route_1065 | it's not that i like you or anything.

Entry tags:

it's not that i like you or anything.

Who:

deadfreesia
Where: Cherrygrove, or nearby
When: Before the bugs.
Summary: Youji is secretly a big softy. Youji thinks Mamoru needs to get in better touch with his secret inner big softy.
Rating: Youji's jokes verge anywhere from G to PG13.
Log:

It was moving.

He remembered this from when Momoe hatched. He frowned at it--you can afford to take a little more time--and sighed. He'd not meant the egg as a gift, per se; just a little token he happened to see before Mamoru did. Just expediting something Mamoru himself was about to do, no more than setting a flowerpot slightly more within reach...

Except Mamoru, the new Omi, just seemed so less receptive to such gestures. Something he'd done without thinking had turned into something he wasn't sure how to approach, and so, the solution was clearly to stop thinking.

He called Mamoru.

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By all appearances, Togepi was in the middle of his own private aerobics program when Mamoru carried him into the Youji's room to answer his call. And as usual, he looked far more happy and energetic than a creature in Mamoru's arms had any right to do.

Mamoru, for his part, was doing his best to simply pretend he didn't have a dancing egg monster tucked to his stomach. He set Togepi down and allowed him to waddle over towards Darling. Satisfied that Togepi would be able to stay relatively safe within the hotel room, he turned his attention fully to Youji. Although he wasn't smiling, Mamoru's eyes and voice remained gentle.

"What's wrong? Youji-kun..."

"What makes you think something's wrong all of a sudden?"

Genuine question. Didn't expect an answer, but the question was genuine.

"I don't even have anyone else in the room with me," he drawled, looking at Mamoru over his sunglasses. "Not much that can go wrong here..."

Still, he reached for his bag and slid the egg out. Still shaking ever so slightly.

Playing the odds.

Mamoru didn't say it aloud. He had two guesses as to why Youji would want to talk to him-- particularly when they were alone. One: to needle and probe in an attempt for more clues about a future everyone had agreed he was better off not knowing. Two: to pick a bone with him over his return to the name Takatori. Their resident detective, here with two delicious, impossible mysteries, taunting him like grapes over the fox's head.

What was wrong? Plenty. How could it not be for Youji right now? Youji knew it and Mamoru knew it. But Youji didn't want to admit that anything was wrong, and what place did Mamoru have calling attention to the wrongness of that denial?

So he said nothing. At least until the egg came out. That, Mamoru had to admit, was something of a surprise. Not just that Youji had an egg-- when had he gotten it, and what Pokémon was it?-- but that the egg was moving.

"...It's hatching."

Edited 2011-04-14 09:55 (UTC)

"Good to know something in that head is still working," Youji said dryly. Mamoru could see; too bad his thinking was flawed and his tongue stayed still.

"Want to hold it?"

It was true that the aforementioned resident detective was dying for answers.
It was true that his frustration with the other three knew no bounds. Hell, it was beginning to worry him; it was one thing for one or two of them to agree on something, but all three of them was pushing it. He'd expect at least one dissenting voice, but alas; it seemed he was meant to be the odd one out here.

Mamoru blinked slowly. "Hold it?"

Mamoru knew that Youji could be whimsical at times, but even granted that quality, it seemed altogether too random. What was he getting at?

"Hold it or drop it, isn't really my place to care one way or the other," he answered slowly, deliberately playing for time. Directly stating his intentions wasn't a strong suit of Youji's; maybe things would have been different if it were, but indirect hints and obfuscation were more a force of habit than anything else by now.

He was still holding the egg out.

"I heard you muttering to yourself." He smirked. "Call it eavesdropping if you like, I simply consider it good policy to be aware of my surroundings. Especially where metallic birds are concerned."

Mamoru's eyes widened. In that moment, he understood.

It was a gift: a Skarmory egg. Youji had heard him planning to acquire one-- and further gone to the trouble of remembering and acting on it. This kind of thoughtfulness was entirely expected from Youji when it came to ladies. Towards men, it was a much more rare display. And towards estranged teammates, it was so beyond prediction that Mamoru found himself struggling for words. The unexpectedness of it, though, and the message of acceptance the gesture brought with it-- a gift in its own right-- was perhaps what made it all the more poignant.

"Youji-kun..."

His gaze settled again on the trembling egg. After one final moment of hesitation, he carefully picked it up. The energy within the egg seemed to transcend the shell that contained it, permeating his skin and shooting through the nerves in his arms. He felt an instant connection to the creature inside; that surprised him. He supposed it was one thing to hold an object which created movement but did not live. It was quite another to to hold life itself on the cusp of its arrival.

Youji had called him here at this particular moment for a reason. He hadn't just wanted him to have a Skarmony. He'd wanted him to experience this. Gift #3: the chance, for a change, to be a part of a life's beginning, rather than a life's end.

In that moment, Mamoru lifted his gaze back to Youji. He smiled with a warmth and appreciation that was as rare as the occasion that inspired it.

"Thank you."

Edited 2011-04-18 11:13 (UTC)

Youji shook his head, leaning back against the wall. No thanks necessary, nor were any desired. Not because Youji was modest, or the type to give freely from the goodness of his heart; he just didn't want a scene.

"Ken gave me Momoe," he said, by way of explanation. "I couldn't tell you why; never asked. I'm assuming he didn't think too much about it; maybe that's changed about him, but I'll never believe it if it has."

Upon hearing her name, Momoe sauntered over, spiral tail straight in the air, and planted herself at Youji's right hand, clearly demanding to be petted. Youji obediently scratched behind her ears both without thinking and without missing a beat.

Ken never had been a cat person.

"Well, anyway," he drawled, "that's taken care of. You owe me a favor and Ken can't call me a selfish bastard for the next week. Think I've won this round, hm?"

Leave it to Youji to be unable to accept a touching moment between two men. Not even one he'd invited through his own choices. Still, it was nice to have that extension of friendship. For now, at least, a different name did not have to mean anything more.

He didn't answer Youji with more than a small smile. His attention turned to the jiggling egg. A few moments later, there was a faint cracking sound-- and the appearance of a short, jagged line on the shell.

In spite of himself, Youji crouched to be at eye level with the little thing.

"I remember Momoe just... randomly hatched as we were walking to meet you in New Bark Town. Kind of an odd moment. Not something I'm used to."

As Mamoru had already observed... they'd taken so many lives. Dropping them into this environment---sure, they could train these creatures to fight. To fight and even kill. Probably could do it well, but actually caring for and nurturing them? Bit more to ask, from four damaged men who lacked the same kind of thing in different ways.

"Did she? I didn't realize she was so newly hatched at the time."

Mamoru kept his eyes on the line in the shell. A little strange and a little touching to see Youji so captivated with the hatching as well. Youji had never struck Mamoru as someone to particularly marvel over the miracle of new life.

The crack split a little more.

"Yeah. You get the concept intellectually, but it's something that has to be seen." He smiled wryly. "And Momoe is entirely unlike her namesake. I sometimes think she's out to get me. Ken's thrilled, I'm sure, but let's hope you have some better luck."

"Yeah. Let's hope."

Mamoru didn't have time to get another word in. The egg glowed bright white. The light flooded the room so that it was nearly impossible to see. Mamoru cried out, something crashed, and when the light cleared, a very large bird indeed sat before Youji. She cocked her head, taking in the sight of the young man. She didn't seem to notice she was sitting on Mamoru.

"What you said about luck..." He wheezed from the floor.

"You have none," Youji observed, not bothering to conceal his amusement. "Had no idea how large those things were."

He reached out gingerly, stopping just short of petting the Skarmory. Let her get used to him first; a metal beak-bite surely would hurt.

"Probably heavy, too, huh? Poor Omi." That he used the old name didn't seem to register in Youji's mind; pure force of habit. "You're only supposed to get pinned down by human girls."

The Skarmory initially drew her head back a bit, but on noticing the hand stopping, she fluffed her wings and leaned back in until the tip of her beak touched Youji's hand. She nudged at it a couple of times and nibbled, the press of her beak as gentle as it was curious.

Mamoru could not find it in him to be bothered over the teasing or the wrong name. "Youji-kun..."

Stated in tone were the words Help me up.

Did Youji hear this silent plea? Yes. Yes, he did. He heard. He even listened. Understood. Agreed.

Did nothing.

He paused another moment, and gently stroked the Skarmory's head.

"You are friendly," he said with great relief. "Sweet-tempered, too."

Mamoru would grant Youji's perception the benefit of the doubt that the Skarmory really was friendly and sweet-tempered when she wasn't sitting on you. When she was, however, it became rather more difficult to properly appreciate those qualities.

"Youji-kun...!"

The Skarmory cooed and finally seemed to realize there was someone else in the room. She craned her neck in search of a better view, but found only a pair of legs.

Youji followed her gaze, and tsked.

"Next time, we hold the egg away from our bodies, right?"

He scratched Skarmory's head. "Why don't you come with me for a minute? He needs to breathe."

"Right..." Mamoru groaned. Youji could rest assured this was one lesson he would not soon forget.

Skarmory clicked her beak and eased herself to her feet, following Youji's lead away from that ill-fated spot of floor. Mamoru winced and sat up; he needed a moment before he could take in the sight of Skarmory properly. Even without that more thorough assessment, however, one point was already clear.

"She seems to like you."

"Women like to be treated a certain way," said Youji, modesty clearly as false as it was overblown. "Sometimes that means getting walked on. Me, I like assertive women who know what they want and get it anyway."

He patted Skarmory's head again. "Not that you and I will be picking out curtains any time soon, but we'll certainly get along. Almost reminds me of someone."

Or sat on, as the case may be. Mamoru climbed to his feet and made use of Skarmory's preoccupation with Youji to get a better look at her. Even from underneath her, he hadn't been able to fully appreciate her size; she would easily be able to carry a passenger in flight. Good. That left the only question whether she would allow him on her back.

"I think she's confused which of us is her trainer."

"Maybe I imprinted on the egg when I received it?" Youji wondered. He grinned. "Or maybe I just look more like a figure of authority."

Momoe and Darling would not agree with this assessment, but Youji wasn't about to admit that.

No doubt Youji did look more like a figure of authority so long as he'd been stuck serving as a floor cushion. That didn't necessarily mean much. It was also possible Youji simply still had the Skarmory's attention because he'd been the first thing she'd seen.

The Pokémon, meanwhile, cocked her head to one side in a silent chorus of Momoe's and Darling's sentiments. She moved in closer, her nose picking up on something. Something that smelled like food. And it was coming from Youji-- more specifically, his lower half.

With no regard for the concepts of ownership or personal space, she began to insistently nudge and prod at his pocket in an effort to get her beak into it.

Mamoru hid his amusement behind one hand. "You were saying, Youji-kun?"

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