DISCLAIMER : Bushiroad and XEBEC own Future Card Buddyfight, not me
WARNING : headcanons, angsty Rouga :v, dialogs from English dubbed version of the anime, no romance, grammar mistakes.
I made this fic partly for Christmas, partly for my friend, who loves Rouga and RouGao friendship (and other kind of relationships regarding them) and who was (and is) upset over the development of Rouga's character and his relationship with Gao and Kyoya.
This fic is set in an alternate turn of event of ep 50 and beyond, where Rouga was kicked out of the Disaster group and lost Cerberus, but did not lose his memories. So I warn you once again, headcanons are everywhere.
NO FLAME please. If you don't like this pairing, don't read this. Simple.
But constructive criticisms are very welcomed. :)
Merry Christmas everyone! :D
snow
Winter this year was cold. No, it wasn't really the way to put it since winter was always cold. Five years ago it was a cold that melted at the start of his scarf, the kind of cold that was not hard and not entirely unpleasant. But it was the only winter that was like that. Since then, winter was always harshly cold.
This year's winter was colder.
It felt strange not to feel the tickle of his hair on the back of his neck now that he'd gotten so used to it, that he felt bare and vulnerable. He walked through the street crowded with pleasantly anxious people and excited kids and felt alone, like how his snow white hair was a stark contrast to the sea of dark ones.
He used to dislike his hair. It made him look and feel like an old man. But when the kid with the same color of hair came, he'd thought that, maybe I'm not alone.
After that, his thick white hair made him feel like a dog, furry, white, stood loyally on its master's side even when the said master turned away. Leashed or un-leashed, it stayed in its place, looking up at the same snow white hair and hoped for the haze that covered it to dissipate soon.
Hoping, and was convinced that he still was not alone.
Then, after long years and craned neck out of looking up and staying with the same master who had forgotten him, the hair was like snow, heavy and cold. More than that, it was bitter and fragile.
He felt like a fool.
alone
He didn't feel like going home (it was such a pretty word, pretty and fragile and false).
So he stopped by the abandoned park. It was abandoned when the land around it was purchased years ago and skyscrapers were built around it. He didn't know why they kept the park as it was instead of running a bulldozer through it, but he didn't complain. It was a nice place to go when the winter was like this. He swept a pile of snow from a flat rock with his hand and sat down. He looked around.
The only things remaining in that park was a swingset with rusty chains and a slide with peeling paint. There was plenty of snow.
There was this kind of numb feeling on his hand, like moving them was awkward, a fake numb sensation. He was wearing gloves, but his hands had lost their feel that day "I don't need you anymore". He hated the fake sensation. So he took off his gloves.
There was plenty of snow.
He made snowballs with his bare hands, white against brown, like his hair on his face.
But he was all by himself in the park.
He made a snowman.
But he was alone.
numb
He went back home when it was dark. His apartment was silent, purple darkness blanketing the empty room. He watched the lights from the bustling city outside twinkling in the distance, creating colorful dots on the opened window which reflected it on the tiled floor. He watched the dots shimmering for a while before going to his bedroom, frozen palms and snow on his hair. He turned the heater on but didn't touch the light switch.
He fell on top of the bed alone, the white sheet and pillows were like a wide clearing of snow. He looked at the faint creases and waited for footprints on the snow, the weight of his partner crashing next to him as always, unheeding of any manner and protest. But there was none came, and he waited until he fell asleep with the dots of light dancing on his window.
out of reach
He stopped by the park on his way home from the convenient store the next day.
He was pretty sure the snowman didn't have eyebrows yesterday.
And he was really sure it didn't wear a red scarf.
He stared at it. But of course, it was silent, even frowning with its eyebrows. He glared back at it before realizing his stupidity. He sighed.
"Good that you got someone, a stranger even, who cares enough about you."
His voice was hoarse from the lack of usage and his tone was bitter. He tugged his own scarf higher and went home.
children
He watched the TV on breakfast today, just so the silence wouldn't ring in his ears. The weatherwoman said that today would be sunny. He thought about what he should do during the day.
Winter break came in a really uncanny timing, but a part of his heart was glad for it. He couldn't go to school with this kind of feeling without picking a fight. And Sengoku Academy or not, fist fight would grant him detention.
There was a pattern of snowflakes on his window. It faded slowly as the morning light hit it, a fleeting existence. Something built of snow never lasted.
He went out after breakfast, without his gloves. The street was bustling like yesterday and the days before, not only with people but also with the ring of Christmas songs playing out from the line of stores. He walked without a particular direction.
He blew warm air into his frozen palms and realized that he'd stopped near the town's park. It was covered with snow, and there were children in there, all younger than him. Small and flushed faces from the cold, all laughing through their mouth or in their eyes. Some were building snowmen, the others were having snowball fights. His eyes fell to two boys on the park bench, bending over a few cards which were out of the plastic wrapper. They grinned, trading playful remarks, and most likely challenged each other.
"You really are a good player. Wanna be my friend?"
The echo persistently stayed there as he watched those boys, transfixed, something stirring violently inside his chest.
"I don't need you anymore."
He turned and ran to the abandoned park, to his lonely snowman.
abandoned
The snowman was still there, but he wasn't sure if it was really 'lonely' anymore. After the scarf, now it had a green knitted hat sitting cheerfully at the top of its round head. He frowned deeply to it, it frowned back.
He let out a sigh. "Who is this stranger who's so stupid to care about a damn snowman anyway?"
The snowman only frowned, but didn't answer. His clenched palms were cold inside his pockets.
a tiny speck
"Aragami senpai?"
He turned around, chin tucked deep into the scarf, and reflexively frowned as he looked down. The first thing he saw was sprinkle of snow on the top of black and red hair.
"It really is you!"
The boy's face broke into a grin and he was suddenly overwhelmed.
Mikado Gao's voice always had too much energy, too much spirit. It rang in his ears and left an unnamed trace. But it also brought back something pleasant, a different kind of stir in his chest.
"Mikado Gao."
"How are you?" Only after he said that that the younger boy realized and looked sheepish guilty. He was in no mood to make it hard for the boy.
"Fine," He shrugged. The coldness stung his palms and he jammed them deeper into his pockets.
Mikado Gao seemed to want to say something else, but after a moment of opening and closing his mouth, he ducked slightly and buried his chin deeper into his scarf.
"If you have nothing more to say, then I'm leaving."
He didn't give the boy any chance to answer.
message
He used to check the answering machine when he came back home. Kyoya used to leave messages there; nothing much, usually about a meeting with the other members or about something he forgot on the main manor. They never really talked much after the first year after you really are a good player wanna be my friend?
Out of habit, his hand found the square telephone and out of memory his finger pressed the button. He froze and stared when he realized what he'd just done.
"There is no message," The answering machine droned.
After dinner, he plucked out the cable and put the telephone inside the drawer. He couldn't bear to hear the echo.
rejection
He woke up with the morning sun hit his face through the window. He'd forgotten to close the curtain. His partner wasn't there to do it.
Blinded, he turned around and threw his pillow over his head.
ripple
He went to Castle, just so he wouldn't have to spend another day wandering aimlessly like a fool. The store was decorated with colorful spheres and santa's hats, red and green and occasionally yellow everywhere.
The kids were bustling around the giant statue of Jacknife Dragon, as usual. He looked at it and felt bitterly angry. But it was dim, crushed by the heavy blanket of snow.
The store manager was as cheerful as ever, trading his usual clothes with santa's attire. The man was always too bubbly and cheerful. He spotted him looking at him and approached. He couldn't move away fast enough.
"Aragami Rouga?"
His frown and his silence seemed to give the answer. The manager's grin didn't fade in the slightest. "Gao was looking for you few days ago. "
Mikado Gao?
"He didn't say what for, though. But hey, I remember you, you're the one who watched Kiri's first Buddyfight. Gotta remember your name now."
He didn't really know what to say, but he was saved from the conversation by a group of kids calling the manager. He quickly walked away.
He'd expected bitter memories resurfacing with his trip to Castle. The store practically had Buddyfight in its soul, humming and pulsing through visitors' voices and the manager's cheerfulness. And indeed it had done so to him, echoing you really are a good player I don't need you anymore a deal between friends you were given mercy at his first step into the store. But as soon as the manager spoke to him, he reminded him without meaning to, of different memories, different echoes. Of the time when he challenged someone to a Buddyfight out of his own enjoyment and selfishness, not of someone's orders and to gain something.
It felt lonely, but it was a different sort of lonely. He didn't know how to describe it.
He stepped out into the familiar crowded street. Mikado Gao was looking for him. What for?
He remembered the droning of the answering machine.
Mikado was looking for him, and what for?
He looked up at the sky and saw the clouds covered the sun from view.
There is one message
"Where are you?"
"I was hoping that it might impress you."
He woke up the next morning with a different echo in his head, although his dream was empty and grey. There was a pattern of snowflakes on his window that disappeared when the morning light touched it. He touched the glass, fingers tight, and was surprised to find that it was warmer than he'd thought.
He spread his fingers slowly, carefully, testing. His palm was cold even in the room but the subtle warmth on the window seemed to return the feeling to his forgotten fingers.
After breakfast, he took out his deck and spread it on the coffee table. He used to do that often, first with someone, then with another sitting on his shoulder, then by himself. Since when did his means of having fun turn into something real and solid and able to touch and harm, he didn't remember.
He packed the cards safely and securely inside a transparent plastic and stored the deck in the deepest part of his drawer. He had considered dumping it into the trash, but it held too much wounds, too much memories.
You really are a good player I was hoping that it might impress you I don't need you anymore Wanna be my- I thought that maybe you've considered to-.
time capsule
Mikado Gao was at the bookstore today. His eyes widened upon seeing him but his grin was wider.
"Hey, senpai,"
He hummed in response and gave the boy his usual frown. There was a line of new books and he was planning to buy several to fill the long holiday.
"I didn't know you read," The boy was on his heels.
"I didn't know you do," He blamed the smell of books and the store's heater for his talkative mood.
"I'm looking for a gift for Kiri," That name triggered another memory, one that was pleasant and smelled of explosive powder. "I got everyone else's except for him."
He took a book just so his hands were occupied. Mikado went on. "We would be having a small gift exchanges, just among us. And then Christmas dinner." He'd never known what it was like, Christmas dinner. Maybe he would buy instant noodle and taste chemical-based ingredients sometime. The occasion just fit.
"I was wondering if…" "Wait! I want to ask you something!" His hand stopped halfway as he was turning the page.
"I heard you were looking for me," He didn't want to think how to answer to whatever came next, so he cut it. Rushed and harsh, just like how he always did things.
Mikado couldn't retaliate as quickly. There were silent seconds ticking as the gear in the boy's head worked to turn the other way. "The manager told you?"
He nodded.
"Oh, I was… just wondering where you are."
"Home," He shrugged, turning the page slowly while his other hand clenched on the spine of the book.
"Oh," A pretty word, 'home' was, when it was owned for something as delicate as the snow. He had home because they had been friends you were given mercy. "You can come join us anytime, you know,"
He'd left no gap, but Mikado still slipped in, with words out of topic and sudden, desperate. "The dinner's on Christmas Eve, at 6. You can come at 5 because most of them will, and-"
"Mikado Gao,"
The boy stopped, he stopped. He ran away from a fight and he was ashamed of it. But he just couldn't.
Not now
run, run, but…
The snowman had a pair of gloves as an addition today. Christmas green gloves. His frown didn't stay for long and his sigh was half-hearted at the sight of it.
He sat on the flat rock next to it and opened a can of coffee.
"Someone really cares a lot about you, huh."
The words weren't as bitter as he'd thought they would be. They even sounded a bit nostalgic.
The snowman frowned at him. Bushy eyebrows, it had.
…have courage
He woke up after a weird dream consisting rock paper scissors. The sun was on his face again, and he stupidly swatted at it as though it was an annoying fly.
He vacuumed the apartment after breakfast, and the dust bag was only filled with dust. He missed the days when it would be filled with Cerberus' white fur.
The apartment was too clean, all of a sudden.
"If you're defeated by a monster like that, we would stop being your buddy.
Just kidding."
He looked out at the snow piling on the window sill and was reminded of his partner.
He saw light dust shimmering in the air like faint smoke and was reminded of the silly monster and its silly explosives.
The corner of his mouth twitched upwards involuntarily and he went to store the vacuum cleaner back into its place.
absence
Cerberus would love gingerbread cookies, he mused. The smell of the fresh bread was thick in the air around the bakery and he was overwhelmed. His pockets felt too light and the ears of his mind too silent. He watched the kids looking at the display bright-eyed and flushed-faced, and again saw two heads bending close together for a closer look of the cookies.
He still saw them everywhere, but the stir inside his chest had receded into a ripple.
reminder
There was someone at the abandoned park, looking at the snowman. Hyoryu Kiri turned around to face him and his breath turned into mist before him. There was a subtle surprise in his visible eye.
"Aragami senpai."
He nodded in acknowledgement and buried his hands deeper into his pockets. Even in this weather, the small boy wore no scarf and no gloves. Blooms of snowflake materialized around him for a short time before dissipating.
"It's a nice snowman," There was something light and childish in his tone and he was reminded of you really are a good player and flecks of snow falling from the sky. Something inside his chest rippled. "You built it, didn't you?"
"Yeah," He looked at the snowman and at the absence of scarf, gloves, and hat on the boy. "Were you… the one who put those on it?" He gestured to the winter attire.
Hyoryu looked at it and back at him and shook his head. "No. It was someone else."
He hummed in response and looked back at the silly-looking snowman. Hyoryu did too for a moment, his hair obscuring his expression. Then he turned halfway around to regard him, the ghost of a smile was on his face.
"I guess I'll see you around, Aragami senpai."
He nodded.
"That snowman looks like you,"
The small boy left the remaining of the words hanging in the air, but there was a faint smile in his tone.
He wondered what it would mean.
He noticed that the snowman now had a lone green button just under its chin.
sharing
He didn't know why he went to Castle again.
Mikado Gao was there.
The kid spun around on the manager's cue and he was too late to escape, stuck in the crowd of kids.
"Aragami senpai!"
"Too often," He groaned under his breath. Then he realized that he hadn't done that for a while. The boy was in front of him in no time, the peak of his stray hair only reached his shoulder. He looked down at him with a frown, the kid looked up at him with a grin. "Looking for something?"
"Nothing in particular," He didn't even know why he was there.
"Looking around then? There's a Christmas promotion for the booster packs."
"I…" Have never and don't have a reason to buy booster anymore. "Am not looking for it."
"Oh," The boy offered to him something, rectangle and wrapped in colorful plastic. "Then you can have this. I got it from 'get two for the prize of one' promo."
"Then you keep it," Nothing should be given for free a deal between friends.
Mikado still held it there. "I don't mind sharing."
"Why?" The only thing Kyoya ever shared was the dark core; never his secrets, the cause of his joy, the source of his change, his insecurities, everything else. Even though they were supposed to be friends I don't need you anymore.
Mikado's eyes widened slightly. His irises were golden and they seemed to shimmer in the colors of the Christmas lights of the store. He seemed thoughtful for a moment.
"No reason," He spelled the answer hesitantly. He could hear no falsehood. "I just want to."
Bullshit reason that was very like Mikado Gao. The kid kept the booster pack outstretched even after a full minute had passed. He might still stay like that for another minute. Some kids were staring. Mikado was undeterred, unmoving, both his hand and his gaze.
He groaned out loud, something he used to do often. Mikado grinned unsurely.
He took it from the kid's hand.
"What's the use of buying this?" The content would be random. The buyer wouldn't be able to know what cards were inside. It was a waste of pocket money.
Mikado's answer was sure. "To feel the thrill. Maybe we got a card we want, or a rare one, or even a buddyrare, like how Kasane got Blade."
Doesn't it make you excited that we might get a strong card from this?
The echo was subtle, soft like the first snow. He'd forgotten that there was a time they did that, before Gremlin joined and boxes of cards weren't really a problem anymore. He looked down at the pack.
"Senpai?" Mikado's voice was, for the lack of a better term, colorful. Emotions were understood through it. He wondered if the kid could actually hide anything. "Is there something wrong?"
He shook his head and pocketed the pack.
Its very subtle weight felt reassuring.
what's inside?
He woke up this morning without being blinded. Clouds were covering the sun, but the window was not entirely cold. He watched the sky for several minutes, unsure of what to expect.
He had the bread he ended up buying yesterday for breakfast. The weatherwoman said tomorrow would be cold and cloudy. He let the TV on while he washed the dishes.
It was still on and the cooking channel was starting when he sat by the coffee table with the booster pack on his hand. He felt stupid for feeling awkward.
He held the edge between his fingers and tore it open with his other hand. There were 5 cards inside. Only one was for Danger World, and as he'd suspected, he'd already had it.
"I knew it," He sighed into the air and felt a bit disappointed. A light kind of disappointment, evaporating as he shuffled the cards in his hand and looked at them all in unison. One card proudly stood out.
Big Surprise Pandora.
He had to suppress a snarl of disdain and a snicker, both at the same time.
frown
The snowman had two more buttons. One yellow and one brown checkered. He stood there laughing at it and chewing on his steamed bun. The warmth of it seeped through his gloves to his palm. The snowman frowned at him with its almost-vanished eyebrows.
He re-drew it and stepped back to admire his work.
The frown seemed as great as it was before.
"The snowman looks like you,"
He frowned back at it.
silence
He woke up at the morning with the sun on his face. He kept his eyes closed and let it warm his face. It was hard to get up of the bed.
At breakfast, he realized it was Christmas Eve and nearly choked on his bread. He let the TV on with loud volume as he washed the dishes. Then he curled up on the couch and stared blankly at his toes sinking into the gap between the couch's cushion.
He thought he'd fallen asleep again for a while and contemplated to spend the rest of the day like that, buried in the couch.
"You can come join us anytime, you know,"
It was just beyond his reach.
"I'm here."
It was afternoon when he managed to drag himself out of his apartment. He went to the convenient store and bought half a dozen of instant noodle just to have something to look forward to.
He went to visit the snowman for maybe the last time.
There was a small plastic packaging dangling on one of its gloved hands. There was some gingerbread cookies inside, with a small yellow paper. A letter.
The dinner is at 6, but you can come at 5. You don't need to bring anything.
If you can't come, you can still come some other time.
Anytime, any day.
Merry Christmas :D
"I've always been here."
He was on his second serving of instant noodle. The TV was on with the news. The curtain was drawn and the colorful dots of light from the city were like Christmas lights on his window. Unopened booster packs scattered on the coffee table next to the gingerbread cookies pack.
The green knitted hat, the green gloves, and the red scarf were on the couch. The Jingle Bell from the TV ad rang through the apartment like a hundred bells.
He went to the fridge to get his milk. The yellow paper was tacked on the fridge's door.
PS : my number is - and my address is -
call or text me anytime :D
That night, he heard no echo.
"You're not alone."