griglewood: (This may hurt)
In some families, it's hard to stand out...

Shinji, to his own great displeasure, was the last member of the bunch to complete his undergraduate degree.

Admittedly, Shige had graduated in Home Economics…

Keigo and Kunimitsu had both achieved firsts at Oxford last year. Keigo had moved to Cambridge to write his postgraduate thesis. Kunimitsu was working towards an MBA at Harvard. Kaoru, the little shit, was also on his second degree, having achieved a double first in mathematics and physics, when he was 16, in Chinese. They’d all trooped over to Beijing last summer for the ceremony at Shinghua University. Ken had cried (naturally) and Shinji couldn’t help thinking about the time when people called him a prodigy, in tennis.

“I think the standards were low,” Shige chipped in. (Shinji still did all his thinking aloud.)

“You would certainly be the one to know,” Kunimitsu observed from his seat by the window.

“Just ignore him,” Keigo added supportively.

I’m ignoring all of you,” Ken growled, as he finished removing the pins from the hem of Shinji’s robe. But to Shinji, who was standing on the dining table, he continued, “You’re done at last. Wanna give us a twirl?”

“Don’t fall off!” Fuwa said quickly, holding his hands out to help Shinji get back to the ground.

At least Shinji had a boyfriend.

“I dunno,” Ken said, when they’d all finished admiring the view. “I’ve never heard of anyone graduating in a jedi cosplay before. Fuck knows what your dad’s gonna say.”

“They’re art students,” Keigo reminded him. “Half the room will probably be dressed as a cardboard box.”

“Shinji’s outfit almost looks traditional though,” Shige remarked, scrolling through the photographs he’d just taken. He glanced towards Ken, grinning toothily. “Tell Brad it’s that! He’s American, he’ll never know.”

Kaoru... pointed silently towards Kabaji.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” Kabaji said, breathing heavily through his mask.

griglewood: (This may hurt)

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” Crawford remarked when the boys ran inside to collect their fishing nets.

Ken had been expecting the moment but his stomach performed an interesting gymnastic manoeuvre all the same.  “This is Reiko,” he started, trying not to sound apologetic, although he wasn’t entirely sure who he’d be apologising to.

“His wife,” Reiko added, putting her arm around Ken’s waist.

“Kaoru’s mother,” Ken finished.

“How interesting,” Crawford replied, after the very briefest of pauses.  And then to Ken, in a distressingly familiar, measured cool tone.  ”That sounds like a conversation we haven’t had yet.”


Meanwhile, down on the beach.

“I thought your mother was dead,” Shinji said bluntly, when the situation was explained.

“It’s been an interesting week,” Keigo grumbled, while Kaoru pretended to be deaf.



Crawford was upset but naturally he couldn’t admit it, so he just made everyone else’s life miserable instead.

“What the fuck was that for?” Schuldig asked, when Shinji fled crying upstairs.  Kunimitsu, being more like his father, had silently stomped off to the tennis court, where the rhythmic slap of a ball being slammed around would shortly be grinding on everyone’s nerves.  From his refuge in the kitchen, Nagi fleetingly contemplated inviting Keigo over to finish the job.

“You’ve never mentioned Hidaka’s wife,” Crawford said accusingly.

No situation in the world existed which the American couldn’t blame on someone else.  

“No really,” Nagi said on the phone to Mamoru later.  “It’s been the absolutely worst trip ever.  Schuldig and Brad aren’t speaking.  The kids have run away from home.  Hidaka’s a wreck.”

He broke off to have a swig of diet coke.    Junk food was bad for him but he was celebrating after all. 

“I like Reiko, though, she’s a total queen bitch. Who knew that Ken had it in him?” 

Mamoru murmured a mild protest.  Nagi switched to speakerphone while he helped himself to pizza.  “All right, yes, Kritiker’s intelligence isn’t that bad. But you still haven’t met her.”



Ken took Shige to the burger bar after football practice.  It was their weekly routine.  A reward to Shige for actually practising and the only time, generally, which they just spent with each other.  Generally, Ken quite liked it. 

This week was possibly the exception.

“Reiko’s very bossy,” Shige was observing, around a mouthful of burger.  “But Kaoru isn’t and you’re not, really, so that’s sort of interesting.”

“If you say so.”  Ken passed Shige a napkin to wipe ketchup from his fingers.  

And Brad’s bossy too,” Shige added, assuming an air of naiveté which would never have fooled anyone.



“You do know where babies come from?” 

With the house to themselves, Schwarz were picnicking on the rug in front of the fire.  It was just like old times, except for the absence of Farfarello dismembering targets behind the sofa.

“Some of them come from a large vat in a Rosenkreuz facility,” Crawford reminded Schuldig scathingly.

“Very good, I correct myself.  You know where other people’s babies come from?”

“Yes Schuldig.”  Crawford leaned back against the sofa, sighing deeply.  “I realise that Ken sleeps with women.  I preferred them to stay out of sight.”

“In the past.” Nagi nodded sagely.






"What are you doing?” Ken asked, when Reiko stepped out of the house wearing one of his shirts and a pair of denim cutoffs.

“We’re building a den,” Reiko replied, brushing her hair behind her ears.  “It’ll be fun. Remember that?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Ken muttered to himself.  The boys had been collecting debris for days now and there had been lots of excited talk about pirates and tree houses. 

Ken leaned on his workbench, watching until they’d all disappeared into the forest. Reiko was fun when she wanted to be.  But she never wanted to stick around.

griglewood: (Default)



“Hang on,” Ken said, checking the shuttle boarding passes for the umpteenth time. “These seats aren’t all together.”

“Well, we are a large party,” Mamoru replied blithely, apparently unperturbed by Ken’s look of utter disbelief. Travelling with a wealthy precognitive usually had its advantages.

“The boys are going to sit with Wufei,“ Nagi intoned.


“It will be absolutely fine,” Crawford assured him. “We will enjoy a quiet and restful flight and Chang will enjoy being a man of honour and restraint.  I’m assuming you have brought the ropes,” he added to his neighbour.

“Preventer issue,” Wufei replied sombrely.


As it turned out, travelling with a wealthy precognitive, and his even wealthier boyfriend, did confer some advantages. All three boys were invited to the flight deck and Ken lived his dream, of watching Kaoru see space for the first time. With a whole new galaxy of stars behind him, the captain explained the mission controls and course trajectory.  At least, that’s what Ken thought he was explaining.

“I thought you’d enjoy this,” Crawford murmured beside him.

“I can fix a bike,” Ken grumbled.

Crawford laughed, not unkindly. “They’ll throw him out in a minute.”

“He’ll be back,” Ken replied.


Of course, after the excitement of take-off, and the amazement at seeing Planet Earth from afar, came the reality that space travel (as a passenger) was actually quite dull.

“It’s just a posh bus,” Shige complained. “Except you can get off a bus.”

“You can get off a shuttle,” Wufei growled, “with help.”


“Hey dude,” a familiar voice boomed through Arrivals. “How was the trip?”

“Maxwell,” Wufei nodded curtly, already the epitome of calm and dignity while Ken, feeling as harried as he looked, struggled with the hand luggage.

Duo bounded over to them, offering his hand to Crawford and Mamoru and slinging his arm around Ken Junior’s shoulders. “Looks like someone hit the duty free.” He eyed the pile of bags.

 “Our resident shopaholic,” Mamoru grinned.

“I do have a credit card,” Keigo acknowledged demurely.

“Well, that's cool.”

“And probably unnecessary, once Quatre gets hold of him.” Trowa had joined them more quietly.


A small army of Winner retainers turned up to convey the visitors, and their increasing luggage, to the house which had been provided for them, just south of the colony’s thriving capital.

“Everything looks so old,” Shige remarked, as they drove through town. “But shiny.”

“It does have that newly polished gleam,” Trowa conceded, turning in the front passenger seat to talk to them. “Relena wanted to create a brave new kind of colony but Quatre’s sentimental, so we’ve ended up with Sanc.”

“In spaaace!” three boys chorused.

“Yes,” Trowa replied. As if he hadn’t heard it fifty times already.

griglewood: (Default)

Ken didn’t plan on teaching Kaoru before school.   He’d never been an attentive student himself and was morbidly fearful of passing on bad habits.  However, Kaoru seemed to be a bright child and was ready to move on from simple shapes and colours.  Abe took the initiative on a shopping trip to Beppu, leaving a paintbox and flash cards on the kitchen table, with a primer to remind Ken how he was supposed to write.

As an afterthought, next day, he obtained a plastic sheet for the table from the village store.

And eventually kicked them both onto the porch.

Ken had never been big but he had good arms and a strong back.  He was popular in the shiitake depot whenever there was manual  lifting to be done and his father regularly farmed him out to the town’s old folks on his days off.    Sometimes they took Kaoru and his friend Hiro along, so they could ride in a van.

Fuyumi-san looked about as old as the Oka castle but had been, in Abe’s words, a bit of a girl, in her day.  Her house was stuffed to overflowing with books, cats and other paraphenalia she wouldn’t be taking to her daughter’s small city apartment.  Ken had cleared half the living room out before they even noticed the piano.  Kaoru naturally wanted to play.

Ken lifted Kaoru over the boxes and sat him awkwardly on one knee, helping him pick out his favourite song on the rickety keys with one hand, harmonising somewhat eratically with the other.

“You’d break your mother’s heart,” Abe said from the doorway, little Hiro gawking beside him.   “All those lessons.”

Mama had insisted he did something as well as football.  Ken shrugged, remembering.    He’d been better with flowers.

“Wanna sing along?” he asked the kids, mainly to wind his dad up.

“God help us,” Abe muttered, disappearing outside.

Of course, after that, they wanted to eat dango.

Abe moved their portable television into the corner of the kitchen and Ken turned it on for Oka-san to Issho while he cooked.   Hiro and Kaoru occupied themselves at the new formica-topped table, drawing crayon cartoons, arguing over which dumpling was coolest and wistfully dreaming of life in a family with three brothers.

Ken sang along noisily (and without much tune) as he kneaded the rice flour, and skewered his dango balls with a flourish.  Abe muttered something about grown men with no dignity, and retrieved a beer from the fridge.

Ken's Dumpling Song

griglewood: (Default)

"Is he completely fucking insane?" Schuldig was still ranting. "Even Farf knew not to do this shit at home."

"There were exceptional circumstances," Crawford placated.

"Bullshit. And another thing, my kid's here, he's probably been traumatised for life-"

"He's right," Ken murmured, when Schuldig had slammed outside.

Crawford sighed impatiently. "You know, Ken, the one thing that makes this orgy of guilt tolerable is your touching faith that Schuldig is motivated by parental concern." He reached for the tv remote.

"It doesn't matter that he means it," Ken exclaimed bitterly. "It matters that it's true."


Crawford insisted on normality. They took the boys to the park next morning. Ken rounded them up to play ball while Crawford sat on his usual bench, skimming through papers.

Ken joined him, half an hour later, looking harassed and out of breath.

"Shige's acting really wild today."

"Shige's always wild."

"Yeah but-"

Crawford folded his papers away and removed his glasses. "He ate like a pig at breakfast and managed to irritate Kunimitsu at least three times. He seems healthy and unaffected."

He'd also been bragging to the others, but Ken would prefer not to know.


“Is that where he stabbed you?” Shige was all ghoulish curiosity as he poked at the bandaged area. Shinji and Kaoru leaned forward beside him, eyes round.

“I didn’t stab him,” Ken lied, slapping the blond boy’s hand away. “It was a kitchen accident.”

“Which is you should never play with knives,” Crawford intoned from the doorway.

Yohji made an odd grunting sound and reached for the morphine dispenser. "I'd tell you not to make me laugh," he grumbled. "But it's not actually funny - oh bugger." He'd exceeded the maximum dosage.

"Yohji," Ken protested, looking pained. "Language..."


Apr. 5th, 2010 06:59 pm
griglewood: (Default)

Hidaka wasn't there.

The young English woman next door chewed gum and shruggged her shoulders when he asked. He's probably at work. Ran gritted his teeth silently over foreign manners.

The apartment was unlocked and nobody objected when he pushed the door open and went inside.

Ken had tidied. And cleaned, judging by the lemony smell about the place. His mattress had been put away, his clothes folded neatly into a case in one corner. His dishes were dried and stacked on the table.

A child's picture was pinned to the wall. Perhaps he was coaching again.


The mission in Rome went smoothly. Kyo seemed capable, Sena needed managing. He had Omi's sharp eyes and Ken's impetuous temper but lacked the raw instinct for killing. He was also young.

They didn't need to go back to Japan straight away. Ran wasn't much for sightseeing but it would pass time. He avoided the churches (which were many) and found himself outside the Colosseum on a white hot afternoon. A gaggle of American tourists thronged around an elderly trumpet vendor. Ran had been wanting to kill the man slowly for several minutes.

Ken would have helped.


Crawford had been in the same hospital as Yohji, until Yohji was moved away for more specialist care. Mamoru didn't tell him where. The young Takatori was busy stepping into the shoes of his dead father and brothers.

Ran encountered Schuldig in the carpark, one arm in a sling, smoking a cigarette he'd been denied indoors.

"How is he?"

"Alive. More of a bastard than ever." Schuldig said something in German which was probably obscene. "Are you really planning to visit?"

"You should know," Ran replied.

Schuldig blinked. "Ja, I did. Just seemed too funny to be true."


Ran went to America, and then to England. England was always raining.

They had a mission which involved football. Ran was glad that Ken had missed it, especially when he read the player profiles. In summer, Yohji surprised him by turning up with his wife. Not that he knew he was Yohji.

Schwarz's arrival was completely expected.

Chloe and Schuldig shared a mild contempt for the Welsh but a healthy respect for the Irish. Crawford looked older, and well. He was a businesslike associate but spent a lot of time on the phone.

He also had pictures in his wallet.


Mamoru called him at 2am, apologising.

"What's wrong?" Ran had been asleep.

"Yohji-kun is missing." Mamoru sounded oddly young over the phone, and hesitant, like he thought he was in trouble.

"Missing from what?"

"From home. Asuka was here. She says he went on a business trip three nights ago and hasn't returned."

The heating was off and Ran's room was cold. "Did she say where?"

"Osaka, somewhere, but there's no evidence he actually left Tokyo."

"Did he take his watch?" Ran asked slowly.

"No, Aya-kun."

They sat in baffled silence, miles apart.


Apr. 3rd, 2010 06:58 pm
griglewood: (Default)

Somewhat random.

"Actually," Crawford replied. "I have something that belongs to you. "

Presumably he'd judged that Ken had calmed down sufficiently because he put the gun back in his desk drawer and locked it.  "Would you like to see?"

"See what?" Ken asked, tiredly.


The nursery school was in the suburbs.  It had a tree lined lawn and a plastic paddling pool, currently unfilled.  The older children were playing on a jungle gym.

"I don't get it," Ken said, eyes fixed on the child by the sandpit. "Are you threatening me?"

"Not at all." Crawford smiled blandly.  "I thought you'd be pleased."


Crawford drove them back to his house, Ken sitting silent in the car while he worried about the morning's revelations.  He didn't like to think of Yuriko walking away like that, although she was young and he knew she didn't have family.

Ken couldn't have raised a child alone either, not that he was any more suitable.

The boy had looked healthy, Ken thought, even if he didn't seem to play much with the other children.  Admittedly, the other children were all Schwarz.

"Come on."  Crawford was holding the door open for him.  Ken hadn't even noticed that they'd stopped.


"You said it was a reward for good behaviour," Ken reminded him hesitantly.  "I haven't - "

"Behaved yet?" Crawford supplied, leaning back in his chair.  Ken felt like a fool for mentioning it but he wanted to get to the point.

Crawford was in less of a rush, apparently, only giving half his attention to Ken as he scrolled through the files on screen.

Nonetheless, he reached out, sliding his hand under the hem of Ken's teeshirt as he drew him closer.  Ken's mouth was dry.

"Don't worry," Crawford told him, pressing cool fingers to Ken's warm skin.  "You will."


Crawford wasn't in the bed when Ken awoke.  He could hear him talking in the next room.   Ken pushed the quilts aside, mentally reviewing the places that hurt.  Crawford had hard hands.

The shower felt good.  A robe had been left on the bed but Ken preferred his own clothes.  He padded barefoot into the lounge, where Crawford was already back at work with a pile of books and papers.  He was fully dressed, his jacket draped over the back of his chair.

The welcome aroma of coffee drifted through from the kitchen.

"Help yourself," Crawford said, without looking up.


Ken hadn't thought about staying the night, although he didn't have any other place to be. Besides which-

"In the morning," Crawford said, correctly divining his thoughts. "You can take him out for the day."

"Thanks," Ken murmured. Crawford ruffled his hair, unexpectedly.

"You can do me a favour and take them both out. Rumour has it-"

"That I'm good with kids. Yeah, I know." Ken moved into Crawford's embrace, starting to like this set up much more than he'd imagined. "I could take them to the park and-"

"Really," Crawford cut in. "You don't need to finish that sentence."


"I didn't really know why you wanted me," Ken confessed.

It was spring and they'd taken the boys south for the holidays. They were lined along the river bank wih the tourists, pretending to fish.

"They've noticed the buckets being emptied into the water upstream," Crawford observed, watching them. "As for you," -he glanced sideways at Ken- "You could always try using a mirror."

"People don't usually mean that in a good way," Ken protested.

Crawford eyed his crumpled teeshirt significantly.

"But Shige says I make you feel young," Ken finished, grinnng. He'd had years to find Crawford's weak spot.


A school night in summer.  Crawford retired to the office.  Ken dealt with the fights over the television and the late homework.  At bedtime, he took the trash out.

"Well, you look well on it," a familiar voice said from the shadows.

Ken stilled.

"I heard you'd become a mafia wife."

"I heard you'd lost your memory."  Ken couldn't see clearly in the darkness but he'd smelled the cigarette smoke when he opened the door.

"I got it back." Yohji stepped into the light, cradling a freshly lit marlboro in one gloved hand.

Ken exhaled heavily.


Mar. 20th, 2010 06:56 pm
griglewood: (Default)


It started when Takatori died.

Ken wasn't sorry to leave Weiß.  He couldn't get his old life back but that had turned out to be a great big lie anyway.  He liked kids, he liked coaching and he liked not killing.  The new life was okay.

Crawford, it turned out, used the same bloody jogging track.

And Ken was a sucker.

It was bound to end badly. Schreient turned up and his boyfriend kidnapped Aya-chan. "We were on a break" sounded lame in his own ears.  Aya would slice him in half.

Ken stayed quiet.

The museum fell.

Crawford ran him down first in Osaka.  Ken had decided privately that the man must use radar, not precognition.

"Ken-seeking radar?" Crawford laughed loudly, shaking the bed, when Ken made the mistake of confiding.  "Because you're so hot perhaps?"

"Oh shut up," Ken grumbled, rolling to the edge of the mattress.

Crawford was still chuckling when he pulled him back.

"If you stopped running, I wouldn't have to keep finding you.  It would be a lot less effort."

"But I don't want you to find me," Ken argued.

"Ken." Crawford sounded just like his father sometimes.  "You're a terrible liar."


Crawford made another surprise appearance in Hikone, strolling right up to the trailer.  "Do you sell gentians?"

"That's corny," Ken snapped at him, peering anxiously down the street.  Ken naturally hadn't mentioned to the rest of Weiß that he had acquired a shadow.

"You're safe for an hour," Crawford assured him.  "And I am your only customer. Close for lunch."

Ken never needed persuading to not sell flowers.

He'd thought they would go to a hotel as usual but Crawford was short of time too. They drove down to Biwa Lake and just walked.

Ken didn't get that at all.


Yokohama was a washout. Their last mission had gone badly and Crawford was tired from travel. He'd also changed something about his appearance which Ken just couldn't get used to.

"It's ash," Crawford said, before he even had the chance to ask.

"It looks grey to me," Ken persisted unwisely.

"Well look harder." Crawford brushed the hair from his brow. "Are you going to the opening tomorrow?"

"At the tower? Hell no." Ken had seen enough of the new Landmark this week. He'd nearly fallen off it twice.

Crawford looked perplexed and annoyed. "I reserved us a table for dinner."


Ken wasn't sure what the others had noticed.

Omi didn't talk to him much these days.  Tonight he was sitting up front, quietly reviewing their latest directions from Kritiker while Aya drove in stoic silence.

Yohji was still wearing his mission clothes, stretched out along the top bunk, pretending to read but covertly watching Ken.

Ken had showered and changed - a necessity in his case - and occupied the narrow strip of floor in the trailer, doing warm downs.  He was restless from the mission, and restless from other things too.

There'd been no news of Crawford for months.


Kyoto was nothing but silence.

It was a cold autumn night. Ken had left Reiko alone in the rain.

In the apartment, he found money and jewelry that could be sold.  Ken packed them away with his bugnucks at the bottom of a borrowed bag.  On second thoughts, he took one of the photos from the wall.  It had been taken in the summer when Reiko was still pregnant.  She looked natural and happy.

Kaoru didn't protest when he settled him into the sling.  Ken could walk to the bus station.  If he hurried, they'd both be free by morning.

griglewood: (Default)

“So how is he,” Schuldig leaned against the wall, killing time while Ken loaded himself up with supplies, “your little genetically-modified organism?”

“Don’t talk about him like that.” Ken’s voice was less certain than his words, resentment warring with sheer relief. This food could last them for a month and there was water too, the filtered stuff. Schuldig grinned as he put a cigarette between his teeth, knowing he could talk how he liked.

Ken hated asking but it wasn’t for himself…

“No soylent.” Schuldig lit up. “Trust me, you wouldn’t like it.”


Jul. 18th, 2008 06:27 pm
griglewood: (Default)

The couple downstairs were fighting again, the screaming of profanities carrying loud and clear through the concrete floor. Somewhere in the building a baby was crying. A door slammed in the hall outside.

Kaoru turned restlessly on the bed. The heat was already unbearable. His hair was damp with sweat and his teeshirt stuck to his skin when he moved.

Ken reached over silently. Kaoru lifted himself up so the shirt could be tugged free before settling back down with his arms wrapped around the pillow. After a moment, Ken shifted back across the mattress, putting a little space between them.


Jun. 18th, 2008 06:28 pm
griglewood: (Default)

Ken shuffled forward again, switching the containers he was carrying to one hand so he could wipe his sweaty face on his sleeve. The police had moved the water point into the main square and constructed barricades to marshall the crowd through. There was no shelter here and once you were in the line you were stuck.

Back at the apartment, Kaoru was busy placing pans and bowls out on the window ledge. The bucket they used at night he attached to the window frame using a pulley system. When the rain fell, Kaoru was going to catch every drop.

Market Day

Jun. 18th, 2008 06:26 pm
griglewood: (Default)

The crowd mobbed the delivery truck before it even began unloading, people screaming and shouting as they surged past the empty food stalls. Ken was dragged along in the crush, stumbling against an overturned trestle, feeling something soft and human turn beneath his boot when he scrambled to his feet. The stench and the heat and the noise were overwhelming. Panic clawed at his chest.

And then – silence! A warning shot fired, a thousand hands reaching skywards. Someone had given the order to throw the food sacks into the square.

On top of the truck, Schuldig lowered his gun, smiling.


Nov. 10th, 2007 06:37 pm
griglewood: (Default)

The three boys regarded the vehicle in their driveway with considerable apprehension. Keigo was the first to speak.

“But it’s orange.”

“I know it’s orange.” Ken patted the car on the roof, relieved that nothing actually fell off when he touched it. “What’s important is that it goes.”

“Will it?” asked Shige curiously.

“It will when I’ve fixed it,” Ken struggled to keep the enthusiasm in his voice. The boys exchanged glances.

“Dad fixed his motorbike,” Kaoru said cautiously.

Snow Day

Oct. 29th, 2007 06:36 pm
griglewood: (Default)

The boys enjoyed winter nights in the ‘tower’ a lot more than Ken did. While he struggled to keep the stove alight, they curled up together on the futon and under a pile of quilts. This didn’t necessarily need to sleep as there was a fair amount of fighting for space and bedding and Keigo complaining that he couldn’t breathe but they would go off eventually and the novelty was still a distraction.

Not as distracting as the snow which came flurrying down one morning. Ken sighed when the school confirmed that classes were closed for the day but the kids bundled themselves into coats and mittens and went flying through the front door. The snow was already ankle deep and they ploughed crazy trails through it before taking turns to throw themselves onto their backs and make snow angels.

Ken watched from the doorway for a minute or two before brushing the snowflakes from his hair and stepping back inside. Soon, they’d just be cold and wet and they’d need dry clothes and something warm to drink.

The End

Jul. 29th, 2007 06:34 pm
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They had watched the city destroying itself from above, safe for the while in Crawford’s penthouse, but Crawford knew as it happened that security couldn’t hold them and there was nowhere to run. Vision bled into reality, the afterimage all too clear.

They were at the gate. They were on the stairs.

The screaming was outside the door.

“They should have let me raise the demon,” Crawford said, lifting his revolver. The two boys beside him stared, disbelieving, Kunimitsu the first to back away.


Crawford shot him in the head. Then himself.

Fuji could manage his own escape.

griglewood: (Default)

Aya finished securing the building downstairs and climbed up to the next floor. Ken was keeping watch from the main bedroom window. A rifle lay across his knees, one of the weapons they’d taken from the abandoned checkpoint, and ammo was stacked in open crates against the wall. There was no Weiß now, no Kryptonbrand, and certainly no need to explain why he wouldn’t be fighting with bugnucks.

“Anything to see?”

“Not yet.” Ken cricked his neck loudly before settling back into position. “There will be.”

Aya didn’t doubt it. His narrowed gaze followed Ken’s out across the empty fields.

Side B

Jun. 4th, 2007 06:32 pm
griglewood: (Default)

It was almost a moment of grand comedy. Aya stepping forward, his katana cutting its lethal swathe through the human monsters, blood spraying in a fine arc as Chloe and Free followed him into the room.

What followed wasn’t funny.

Ken dragged him outside, Yuki running at his heels. Michel was shouting something but he was behind them and there was no time to look. There were more at the end of the alley. They piled into the car and Ken just drove.

They stopped when they were clear of town, Ken stripping the gloves from his hands and swearing.

griglewood: (Default)
"Do you want a drink?” Mamoru asked the question casually, slipping his jacket off and draping it across the back of a sofa before moving to the bar. They hadn’t had much to say to one another during the drive over.

Crawford approached Mamoru from behind and slid his arms around his waist. The younger man was slender enough but he didn’t work out as rigorously as Crawford himself did. Years of corporate lunches were starting to tell. In truth, he’d had a tendency to run to fat since boyhood.

Crawford didn’t find the softness alluring but it was… comfortable.

Tin Man

Jul. 22nd, 2006 06:37 pm
griglewood: (Default)

Ken stopped by the boys’ bedroom on his way downstairs, switching on the night light and remembering to tuck in each of them including Keigo who resisted, of course, even in his sleep. Ken patted the shoulder that was turned to him and pulled the quilt up to the boy’s chin. He tousled Kaoru’s hair one more time before leaving, taking a second to kick a cushion into place in the doorway. He might not have fancy monitors but he had good hearing and liked to leave the door just slightly open.

The lounge when he walked in was a sea of clutter. He stacked the cups and plates to take down later, piled the homework books on the desk in the corner. He ought to check them over but it was late and they only had another day until the weekend. He wasn’t working Saturday and if the kids wanted to go out, they’d have to show their assignments were all done. Ken slumped back on the sofa, pulling the cordless phone from behind one of the cushions and sweeping it, and the jumble of clothing, books and toys to one side as he dug out the remote and pressed for the late night channel.

Sometimes, parenthood was exactly what it said on the tin.


Jul. 22nd, 2006 06:36 pm
griglewood: (Default)

“I’m not wearing those!” Little Keigo resisted Ken’s attempts to wrestle him into his winter jacket. “They look stupid.”

“They’re not stupid,” Ken replied patiently. “They’re practical.”

“Ore-sama can take care of his mittens.” Keigo folded his arms across his chest, waiting for Ken to pull the cord from his coat sleeves. Ken sat back on his heels and tried not to look irritated.

“You know, the others don’t mind.” He pointed towards the window. Kaoru and Shige were having an energetic mitten-swatting fight in the front garden.

“That’s ’cause they’re idiots,” Keigo sniffed. Then amended. “Well Shige is.”


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September 2017


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