route_1065 | log ; the rose I kept in a glass cage

Entry tags:

fuji shuusuke | prince of tennis

log ; the rose I kept in a glass cage

Who:

usedlaserbeam
Where: Goldenrod, in a park by the pokemon center
When: 07/30, directly after the text messages
Summary: a discussion about foxes, and the eyes that see them
Rating: PG-13
Log:

[it really is a nice day for the park, isn't it.

he knows that he's there early, for a given value of early, when he doesn't see Yagyuu there-- though really, it couldn't be called early. not since neither he nor the other set on a time. 'now' is so very subjective in the strangest of ways-- what constitutes as 'now' for a world where the land never stops spinning? surely it must've been the moment before that one, just slightly off-kilter...

he finds a nice park bench, and settles down on it, leaning back.

the sun really is so high.]

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They used to say that with time and patience, even stupidity can be cured. But we all know how that goes.

[and Fuji is most certainly listening, and Yagyuu's displeasure, in turn, makes him think. in response, he gives the fox a look of consideration, before moving slow, slow, slowly off the bench and into a crouch on the ground.]

Nothing fixes itself, you know.

[It's slow enough that it doesn't startle the little fox, though she does squeak again as Fuji's new presence on the ground draws her more immediate attention. Yagyuu, for his part, shifts back slightly, watching curiously to see this very odd exchange between two such very odd creatures.]

That's a fair point. Perhaps I should've added the third necessity: time, patience, and effort.

[Fuji, for his part, is more than happy not to make any overt gestures. rather, he seems more than happy not to do anything at all. simply crouches there. conversationally--]

No. Patience, effort and time. There's a difference.

[Which prompts a slight frown out of Yagyuu. Nothing shifted but the order--is he implying an order of importance? Sequential order? Or is it merely another game of Fuji's, and there's really no difference at all?]

Ah. Is that the order to follow?

[he can tell that Yagyuu's making an effort at following-- most people do, especially in the wake of something that sounds vaguely philosophical in nature. that in which lies the flaw, he supposes. sometimes, there's really nothing to follow.]

Not really. It just makes for a better acronym.

[he then flashes a quick, lop-sided grin. his gesture of peace, the facial expression equivalent of the open palm.] If we were to go strictly by the order, it must be something like effort, patience and time-- time being the last resort, in some cases.

[Just another game of Fuji's, after all. And he almost can't help but wonder if Fuji ever finds it tedious after a while, always adopting that role, the way that Yagyuu sometimes reaches the limits of his patience with being a perfect gentleman. He's found his own means of cutting loose when it gets to be too much. Has Fuji?

Or is this just how Fuji is, through and through?]

As a mnemonic for remembering the steps, the acronym would be useful. Though I think the order itself is the most helpful overall.

[Effort, patience, and time. And why does that sound as much like a recipe for dealing with Fuji as it does for training a fox?]

I'm surprised she's not afraid of you.

[the thing about Fuji is that he's not entirely sure how to be anything else, and the only repercussions he has from his own actions are physical in nature-- sleepless nights, poor appetite and a tendency to monopolize the bathroom at odd hours. as of now, he is simply acting the way he knows best, humming under his breath as he crouches there by the bench before the fox, careful to angle his body forty-five degrees away from being head-on and doing a fantastic impression of not paying attention.

he shrugs.]

I'd say both are second to intuition. [and he chuckles, a little, here, murmuring--] And I think I should be the one afraid, really. The most I can do is scare a few years off of her. She, on the other hand, can set me on fire.

It's her nature, at least, though it doesn't seem to be her inclination.

[It's one of Yagyuu's talents as well, to watch something while concealing the direction of his attention, and he's glad for it now--because the fox is somehow, miraculously, beginning to grow curious, and inching forward a step as if to investigate this new, strange creature in her midst.]

Just pointing out that who, in this situation, has the upper hand.

[if he notices her movements, he doesn't show it-- but then again, he's most certainly noticed her movements, and therefore must be taking certain care not to show it. however, he does lower his right hand a notch gently, imperceptibly.]

Actually, that would be you, wouldn't it. Keeper of the magic eight ball; deus ex machina extraordinaire.

[Leave it to Fuji, of all people, to find a way to bring a skittish animal out of its shell. It's an interesting sight, watching the subtle tension balancing on a thread. Will he manage it? Or will one slight misstep undo the whole thing? It's a tableau that's more than managed to ensnare Yagyuu's attention.]

But would that really solve the problem, I wonder? It's not much of a deus ex machina if it doesn't.

At the very least, it would solve the prospect of someone getting caught on fire.

[it's a calculated risk, but it's still there-- the risk, that is, of the small creature taking the slow movements as a gesture of threat. it would undo the good that had been wrought. he is well aware of this, even as his hand slowly descends to touch the ground lightly with his fingertips. it's the reason why he hums, peering up at Yagyuu with a contemplative look, pleasant.]

Unless, of course, you don't consider that to be a problem.

[And that, of all things, earns Fuji the first smile Yagyuu's cracked since the encounter began--and a surprisingly natural one at that. Of course, it's partly from the intended humor and partly because, well, there have been days when he frankly wouldn't have considered Fuji set on fire to be much of a problem, no.]

In that case, I promise to utilize it should that eventuality arise.

[the response is nostalgic. dry humour, pleasant. there are people out there who will claim that Tezuka Kunimitsu isn't capable of irony. Fuji supposes that he knows better. it makes him wonder, just a little, since when did he start finding similarities between Yagyuu Hiroshi and his captain.

a huff, mock-sigh.]

Figures. I suppose I'll just have to muster up the motivation to save myself, if it comes to that.

With a capacity for innovation like yours, Fuji-kun, I wouldn't doubt your ability to escape a roasting for a minute.

[And the Vulpix sneaks closer again, almost close enough to brush her nose against Fuji's hand.]

Though I still doubt you're in any danger from this one.

[ah, delight-- it's in the way his eyes flash discreetly at the closeness of the gesture. but still, he does not move. there's a hum as he tilts his head up at Yagyuu, contemplative.] Mm, I'm afraid of getting burnt.

What's your excuse?

Being that she's currently my responsibility, I suppose I'll have to volunteer to protect you from that possibility, then.

[His eyes are alert, calculating. It's the moment of truth--will she find the courage to take that last step? Is there more to this charge of his than he'd originally thought?]

My excuse?

[the outcome, he thinks, might not be one that he is expecting. with her so close, perhaps it's only the beginning. he holds still with baited breath. lightly, absently--] The reason, of course.

For why you're down there and I'm not?

[His voice is light, too--Fuji's not the only one holding his breath in anticipation.]

For why you're still standing, really.

[precariously still.]

You've come so far already. I'd hate to destroy it by being careless.

[And a small, cold nose nudges against Fuji's hand.]

Well, I think there's something to be said about letting your gu...

[he trails off when he feels contact. there's a pause as a smile slowly crawls across the sides of his face, before he angles his hand slightly to let the vulpix have better access to it.]

...guard down?

[He's surprisingly quiet, watching this. Leave it to Fuji, somehow, to achieve in minutes a breakthrough that's taken Yagyuu a week and potentially more.

Then, carefully, while her attention is on investigating Fuji, he gradually eases himself down to the ground, for once unmindful of his clothes.]

[he smiles, crooked, and watches Yagyuu out of the corner of his eyes as he focuses on the little fox. now that she's crossed the initial gap, he lowers his palm down to the ground completely, and let's her investigate to her heart's content. she's made it this far, after all-- there's no hurry.]

Precisely. But unlike what some people might say, it's not always an earth-shattering thing.

After all, you can't be tamed, otherwise.

[He almost wonders, as he comes to rest on the ground, if he hasn't played into Fuji's hands somehow by doing it, as much as the Vulpix has by letting her curiosity get the better of her. In both cases, it's distance being removed, isn't it?]

Some would say a defeat is always earth-shattering, no matter how small it is.

[Yagyuu's response gives him pause. he tilts his head, even with his eyes riveted on the spot next to the little fox, carefully impersonal.]

That's an interesting definition for defeat.

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