But yeah. Had a strange urge to write Aoi/Lion. Why? Because everyone loves Aoi.
So... go read Space Toaster's fanfiction, when you're done with this. Because... I says so. And that is obviously a good enough reason to do anything. Hate Brad/Aoi and write Sega/AM2 nasty emails about why that just doesn't work.
On a more serious note, this doesn't feel quite finished, and I'd like some feedback on how to improve it.
PS: I don't own Virtua Fighter. If I did... um... Brad Burns would be shot/stabbed/set fire to/castrated/mangled, etc. by Goh and Kage for even THINKING that he's good enough for Aoi. He needs to step back, and I dunno, not try to play someone so adorable?
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Adages
A (random) Lion Rafale/Umenokouji Aoi Oneshot by Strike To Incinerate
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It was funny how Lion boasted about being the best at everything, so manly and great, and how everyone else was a 'knucklehead' or an 'old fogey,' but his knees nearly gave out everytime he even thought about asking a girl to simply go to the movies.
Oh, yeah. That's real tough.
But, to give Lion credit, it was really only with one girl, and his intimidation was understandable... a little bit. Although he was a year older, her voluminous clothing made her appear bigger and taller than he, and he had never been able to picture her out of them. He'd also seen her attempt, and almost succeed, at manuevers in the fighting ring that would easily break bones.
Truly, nervousness was understandable when you had a crush on a girl that could break your arm in three or four places.
He wasn't even sure if she spoke English. Or French. Or any language other than her native tongue. He was almost positive that they had nothing in common, and that she swooned every time that womanizing bastard, Brad Burns, smiled at her. Of course, she would be the only one to fall for the 'charms' of the one man in the World Tournament who made him appear humble.
But he couldn't get that innocent, determined smile, and the light behind her dark gray eyes out of his head. The more he thought about it, the more ingrained it became, until he was seeing it in his dreams, and knew that it would be that way as long as he continued to attend the World Tournament without doing something about it.
At least, if she rejected him, he would have an excuse to stop thinking about her.
But what if she DIDN'T. Oh, there was the kicker! Nothing ventured, nothing gained, his father had told him... his father, who was also venturing into the world of illegal arms dealing, and gaining counterfeit riches from an underground cartel. No one was perfect; even wise men were once fools.
"Tomare!" a feminine voice called to him, but it was too late; he'd been too deep in thought to notice the pothole his left sneaker had fallen into, causing him to trip and become soaked from the knees down in puddle-water.
Oh, and if it that wasn't embarrassing even for the proud Lion Rafale, there was only one Japanese young woman that he knew of within 300 hundred miles.
"Aa! Daijobu, desu ka?" she asked him, hurrying over, brushing long strands of dark brown hair out of her pale, heart-shaped face. He realized that he didn't have to worry about his inability to imagine her in non-traditional-Japanese clothing, because she actually did wear some.
"English?" he tried weakly; step one, the language barrier.
She nodded, to his surprise and relief. "I asked if you were alright, Rafale-san," she told him, blinking.
He swallowed, his cheeks heating up. "You can call me Lion..." he replied.
She only nodded again. "Are you alright? You didn't twist an ankle or anything, did you?" she asked him earnestly.
He shook his head, flaxen locks swaying to and fro. "Non. I'm fine, Mademoiselle Umenokouji," he said, flashing her a small smile.
She offered a hand to help him up. "It's Aoi. A-oi, got it?" she teased.
He waved his hand, refusing her assistance. His ego had been bruised, but she wasn't going to tear down his confidence so easily. He could already feel his knees turning to Jell-O; he took a breath, trying to force some structure into them.
"Aoi, oui?" he repeated. "Did I pronounce it right?"
She gave him a grin, and didn't notice how that deepened his blush. "Hai!" she chirped. "Your pronounciation is very good, Lion-san."
"Just Lion," he said.
She looked puzzled about that, but didn't argue. "... Lion."
"Aoi," he responded, in the same firm manner she had.
They both chuckled uncomfortably, as they began walking down the sidewalk. Aoi's hands were clasped behind her back, and Lion's were stuffed into his pockets.
They began speaking again at the same time.
"Do you--"
"Have you--"
They glanced to each other.
"You can go first," she offered.
"No, you can finish what you were going to say," he replied.
She nodded. "Hai... Lion-san... Gomen ne, Lion..." she said, apologizing quickly. "Aa, I was wondering... since we're the same age and all... if you wanted to hang out? Not necessarily alone; I think that Eileen-san and Brad-san are our age, too..."
'No, Brad is pushing thirty, and an asshole. He can hang out with a rabid, territorial ferret in a dark closet with the door locked from the outside,' Lion thought.
She seemed uncertain about this idea, and quickly added, "But we don't have to. Anou, what were you going to say?" She gave him another smile, but it was softer.
"I was going to ask if you had seen the new Pirates of the Carribean movie... because I was thinking of ordering it in my room, actually," he admitted. "Want to?"
She nodded. "I have a copy of Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children..." she said, her hands moving into her pockets. "And popcorn. I could bring them over..."
He smiled at her. "For the love of god, invite Eileen if you MUST, but please do not invite Brad."
She moved one hand to poke him in the side. "Ne, Lion-kun, if you wanted to get me alone, you should have just said so," she teased.
He blinked for a moment, then ventured, "You and Burns aren't, uh..."
She looked shocked, then giggled, and said a bit too loudly, "No! I'm not that naive!"
They both laughed.
"That's good, because he's being manhandled by Mademoiselle Bryant... right over there..." the blond pointed out, indicating just ahead.
Aoi squinted as they approached, trying to muffle her laughter.
The soft groan of, "So worth it..." from the Italian kick boxer proved that he clearly had deserved the dislocated shoulder.
With a proud grin, Lion laced his arm around Aoi's slim shoulders as they passed by his bruised form, which lay half on the sidewalk and half on the grass.
Brad opened his mouth to say something, and then shut it again as he saw Aoi's form lean against Lion's ever so slightly.
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Woot. Lion/Aoi. Random. Leave a review.