I wrote this a while ago...Posting it now...
Swoosh. The sharp edge of Tao Ren's kwan-do cuts through the air. The Chinese shaman's hands are white; so tightis heholding the spear. Sweat slides down his face, and his pupils contract in concentration. With another loud yell, he slashes to the right, doing a complex dance of flashing blade and twirling staff.
Usui Horokeu smiled, secretly watching from the door. He made a point of watching Ren train each day. Always in secret though. He arrived after Ren had sunk into his training daze, and left before he towelled off.
Horohoro had never really thought about why he observed Ren. It was, he supposed, a bit like stalking. But he'd never thought of it as an obsession; it was hard not to watch Ren.
After all, everything the Chinese shaman did was beautiful. No matter how much he sometimes disliked Ren himself, he had to admit Ren was beautiful. Beauty was in his very essence. Horohoro didn't know if Ren had been born with it, or if it was bred into him, or taught (he briefly entertained an image of En teaching Beauty 101), all he knew was that Ren had it.
An especially spectacular move brought Horohoro back to the scene in front of him. He smiled wryly; he'd have to watch out for that attack. His eyes trailed over Ren's lithe, graceful form, his long, slender limbs twisting in the air.
Moments like those really made him feel clumsy. Even Yoh's skill with Harusame had nothing on Ren.
Horohoro watched a bit longer, knowing he would soon have to leave. Reluctantly, he pulled away from the door and slipped silently down the hall.
Ren was a man of many talents…
Some were deadly, like his blade.
" I win again!" Ren proclaimed, throwing out his arms.
" Aw, darn!" Yoh pouted. " You always win!"
" I am the Twister King!" Ren slapped the plastic sheet on the floor triumphantly.
Horohoro shook his head. He'd lost early on from staring at Ren and not playing attention to the spinner. Ren was amazing at the game. He was so flexible it was scary. It was another thing he was excellent at.
Horohoro smiled fondly to himself. Ren was like a cat. The Ainu adored cats.
" Horo? Why are you looking at me funny?" Ren blinked his saffron eyes cutely.
Horohoro suppressed a chuckle. Yep, definitely a cat.
Horohoro discovered something new about Ren. He'd come up across the Chinese boy sitting on a riverbank, hunched over a notebook. Ren had shouted and ran off before he could see what the other shaman had been doing, although he did catch a glimpse of light grey lines on the paper…
Horohoro had snuck into Ren's room once when the Chinese boy was out, and looked for that plain black book.
He finally found it, in all places, under Ren's pillow. Horohoro hadn't looked there, thinking Ren too clever to hide it in such an obvious spot. It looked like Ren was one step ahead of him.
He'd thought about what the book could contain. Perhaps it was a diary, or a photo album. Even though he'd seen what looked like a drawing, he passed it off as preposterous. Ren wouldn't do anything so soft.
Horohoro opened the book and flipped through it. His eyebrows rose. He'd been wrong about the Chinese shaman again. Page after page in the book was covered with beautiful sketches. Horohoro had never seen such amazing work before. Every object, place, or person Ren captured on paper seemed real. There was Yoh's lazy smile, Manta's paranoia, Faust's complacency, and even – Horohoro smiled – his own goofy grin.
He paused over one of Ren's self-portraits. It was perfect, down to the very last detail. It even had that cute quirk of the lip Ren did when he was amused. Horohoro realized he desperately wanted that picture. He came back to gaze on it every day, but it still wasn't enough.
Finally, he cut it out of the book, hoping Ren wouldn't notice. But Horohoro supposed the Chinese boy did, for he was grumpy and suspicious for the rest of the week.
It was worth it though. Now he could look at the sketch every time he wanted to, and so, it came to be that Horohoro spent a lot of time in his room.
Ren was a man of many talents…
Some were lovely, like his art.
" Horo." Ren's voice was cold and cutting. The Ainu looked up to see a very deadly expression on the other boy's face.
" Hey, Ren." Horohoro grinned, wondering what could be wrong.
Ren held out a sheet of paper. Horohoro took it, confused…and saw it was the self-portrait he had taken. He suddenly felt very cold. Oh shi…he thought.
" Care to explain why this was in your room?" Ren crossed his arms and tapped his foot. Horohoro thought he bore an uncanny resemblance to the Ainu's mother.
" It was in my room?" Horohoro feigned innocence.
" Yes it was, Horokeu. Under your pillow, in fact." Ren ground through gritted teeth.
Darn! Scrap innocence! Horohoro went on the offensive. " Why were you in my room?"
Ren coolly raised an eyebrow. " I was collecting the laundry hampers, and I saw this sticking out."
"…Oh." Horohoro felt stupid.
" Want to explain yourself?" Ren's voice was still dangerously low.
" …No?" Horohoro ventured.
" I'm not stupid, Horo. What's wrong with you? I know you've been staring at me. And now this? You stalker!" Ren accused.
Horohoro took a deep breath. He decided to tell the truth.
" I'm not a stalker." He said calmly.
" Then what do you call this?" Ren shoved the sheet under the Ainu's nose.
" So you're asking me not to look at you?" Ren nodded slowly. Horohoro shrugged. " I can't do that."
" Why not?" Ren glared, frustrated.
Horohoro took in the angry shaman. His saffron, almost gold, eyes glinted, and his features were sharp with rage. His purple hair fell into his face, contrasting with his porcelain skin. " Because that would be not looking at something divine."
" W – what?" Ren's voice faltered.
" You're beautiful, Ren. Everything you do is too." Horohoro grasped Ren's limp hands, calmly studying the other boy's shocked face.
A warm smile shone on Horohoro's face.
Ren was a man of many talents…
Some were shy, like himself.
Don't know where this came from...
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