Author : kabajirou
Type : Fanfiction (one-shot)
Series : Prince of Tennis
Character/Pair : Niou/Yagyuu (Rikkaidai)
Rating : G [very slight shounen ai]
Disclaimer : A non-profit fanfic venture, no copyright infringement intended. PoT belongs to Konomi Takeshi.
Notes : Inspired by Genius 205 (manga) wibbling, some Rikkai drabbles and an Oblivion Dust song (along with numerous other cobwebs in my head). I don't have their characterization down pat so pardon me for the creative license (as well as the weird writing style). Yes, I do think I write weirdly.
It started out as a joke.
Niou shared the locker room mirror as I was drying my hair. I paid him no mind as he went through the motions with me, imitating everything I did.
He loved doing that, making fun of people by mimicking them. He was good at it. He'd impersonate teachers and strut around comically to everyone's amusement, for instance. He can also imitate voices. In fact, he got Sanada's down to a science - he once fooled Jackal into running a hundred laps when he threw the Captain's voice from behind closed doors. I don't think Niou let on. He's not one to start a fight with a teammate.
Of all people, he liked imitating me the most. I'd find him trailing behind me sometimes in the corridors, walking the way I do, and simply awarding me a smile when I catch him. He'd push invisible glasses up his nose and gaze at me from behind his lashes.
That's how others must see me, I figure. The way he looked at me just then. Did they think me… I search for a word. Devious? Did they believe there was always something going on behind my eyes?
Perhaps it's because we're different and that fascinates him. Niou, the trickster. Niou, the jester, the joker. His energy level is so high, it takes more than an hour to warm him down after practice. They think I, on the other hand, am the perfect gentleman. Charming indeed. Saying nothing, being civil and acting refined constitute breeding, they must believe. Maybe it does work to my advantage. Apparently not to Niou.
I put my glasses on and found him doing the same. And I found myself saying his name.
"Niou-kun," I reprimanded. I wasn't in the mood today. Not even when the trickster was being entertaining. Bespectacled amusement with a prickly ponytail.
"Niou-kun," he repeated softly. In a tone that was mine only seconds ago. I found myself turning my head and looking at a face I knew so well. Or thought I did. It looked much like me sometimes.
"Don't speak like me. Ever again," I warned.
He watched me closely, my reflection on the mirror.
"Ever again," he repeated. He then turned to face me and laid an arm on my shoulder. He reached up, pulled my glass off and wore them. Breath warm and only inches from my face.
Whoever said curiosity killed the cat probably did. Kill the cat, that is.
"The look becomes you… Niou-kun," he began. In a voice that was mine and mine alone. I watched his eyes quiver and his breath turn shallow.
"Say it," he pressed.
When forced, I say the darnest things. Even when it becomes me. Does it excite you, Niou, I wonder. This fear. When I found my voice, it rasped, dirty to my ears.
"Does the look become me... Yagyuu?"
He rewarded me a smile. "It most certainly does… Niou-kun."
I had forgotten the punchline to the joke by the time his eyes fell to my lips. Then without warning, he disentangled himself from my shoulder and walked away. With my glasses.
I may have to do without them for a while. Or I could get him a new pair.
Either way, the joke's on me.