RP Log: Kouji & Ayato
Backdated: 06/14
Rating: R for language (otherwise PG)
Summary: Ayato is sick of the way Kouji has been treating him recently. See the comments for this post for immediately pre-log context.
Ayato stormed down the hall, glad that it was late enough that there weren’t many people in the hallways. He didn’t care that he’d left his bag in the library, or even that he’d left his Livejournal entry open. All he cared about was getting back to his room. Right now.
He didn’t even pause as he yanked open the door and crossed the short distance from the doorway to his roommate’s desk. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded, fingers curling into a fist as he glared at Takayama-kun, blinking up at him in the glow of his monitor.
Kouji shrugged in response. Terada had been awfully spastic lately … maybe he was getting sick again. It would figure. Geez … what was this that couldn't be said over the journal? He was beginning to like being able to spend time around his own stuff at night, too, and now his roommate had to come back and ruin it. "I dunno," he said, looking over at Terada out of the corner of his eye, but not turning to face him. "What's wrong with you?"
That was it. Ayato was sick of being treated like so much dirt. First Takayama-kun’s friend, and now Takayama himself. He’d been resigned to put up with it - he really was putting his roommate out with this whole mess, but Takayama had seemed so… all right with it at first. And if he was going to be all right with it, then why wouldn’t he just leave Ayato alone?
“You are,” he growled, and the hand that had been itching to hit something found itself slamming into Takayama’s cheek as he knocked his roommate backwards off the chair.
Kouji was even less prepared for the floor meeting his ass than he was for the fist that struck him in the first place. "Holy fuck," he exclaimed. "You fucking hit me. You bitch. What the hell was that for?" He rubbed his cheek absently, as he pulled himself up onto his desk chair, wondering what in hell didn't compel him to strike back.
“I am sick of being treated like some other species,” Ayato told him hotly, wondering if one punch would be enough to get the point across. “I’m still the same person. What the hell is so hard to understand about that?” He really hadn’t thought Takayama would be so stupid about this whole thing. He’d even offered to transfer rooms. But no, Takayama-kun had said he could stay, only to treat him like this… He didn’t even know what to do anymore. If he left, Takayama might make things worse for him. It was indeed possible.
"No, you're not," Kouji said. He didn't elaborate, because he couldn't, exactly, but Terada wasn't what Kouji thought he was, and so couldn't possibly be the same as he was before. He'd changed.
“Great. So stop treating me differently.” Ayato gazed steadily at his roommate, wondering if he actually would. And why things seemed so different now. They weren’t, really - the only thing that had changed was that Takayama was making a big deal out of things. “I didn’t think you were that squeamish.”
"I'm not fucking squeamish!" Kouji exclaimed. "I didn't ask for this, okay? I just want my goddamned life back, and you're not making it any easier for me. Geez!" He sighed - he wanted to hit him back. Terada deserved it just as much as he did, if not moreso, for causing all of this trouble in the first place.
He wanted his life back? Just who did he think he was? “Yeah, well, like I did? You’re the one making this hard - I’m not doing anything. Look, I’m sorry this happened, but I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal out of it. You’re acting squeamish.” Ayato eyed the tape dividing the room in half. “I haven’t done anything to you at all this week.”
"If you're so sorry then why the fuck did you hit me?" Did Terada really think it would actually help anything? Oh, yeah, that'd be a great way to boost his self-image … taking a hit from a stupid scrawny little …
“Because you’re making it awfully hard to be sorry,” Ayato informed him shortly, his fist itching for something to hit again. “Do you want me to do it again? I think I recall you having called me a pushover recently…” Which, normally, was true. Except not now, not anymore that Takayama-kun had been trying so hard to make his life miserable.
"Because you are!" Kouji said. "I don't care if you think you're hot shit now because you're getting away with this, don't forget that you're only getting away with it because I'm letting you." Which was true enough. He could have gone to the authorities and told them what was up and they'd have Terada out of there in two seconds flat.
Kouji just wasn't exactly sure that he wanted that. He knew he shouldn't be putting up with this as easily as he was … he probably shouldn't be putting up with it at all. Any ordinary student would have Terada reported. Whether it was so Kouji could feel less ordinary, or like he was getting away with something, too, or for some other reason he hardly thought to name, he hadn't told anyone what he'd found out. There was speculation, to be sure, now, likely due to Kouji's comments, but ultimately, he'd kept his word.
Ayato blinked at that, face going white for a moment. “Don’t even think about telling anyone.” He sighed; he knew he was really in no position to threaten Takayama-kun. That was Ayato’s problem, really - he was a pushover because he couldn’t really back up anything he said. Not even against Takayama-kun. Not tonight. His temper had cooled all too quickly with the reminder of just what Takayama-kun was doing for him.
“Look,” he said, glancing off to the side. “I know what you’re doing for me, so don’t think I don’t appreciate that. I just don’t appreciate the other stuff.” He sighed again. “Whatever. I left my stuff at the library and I gotta be up early.” He took a few steps to the door, thinking that he should probably just drop this whole thing. It wasn’t worth it. He really did owe Takayama-kun a lot more than he was giving him credit for.
"Fine," was all Kouji said. At least Terada wasn't going to hit him again. That would've just made everything worse. Again. Because nothing ever got better for him … it only got worse. Maybe he really would leave tonight….
“I’ll be back later,” Ayato said shortly, pulling the poor open and leaving, face beginning to flush as he realized just how stupid he really was when he got mad. And he’d gone and done it again. He really would be lucky if Takayama-kun hadn’t turned him in by the end of the week. He resolved, for the second time that week, to just leave his roommate alone and stop responding to whatever Takayama did. Maybe going home this weekend really would be a good idea. He’d have to talk to Hikari-chan. Tomorrow.
As soon as Terada was out the door, Kouji locked it, and went to his closet to pack a bag. He put enough of his stuff in there for a couple of days … he really didn't feel like doing much of anything, especially going to class, so maybe he wouldn't, and if he changed his mind he could always come back. But right now anywhere was a better place to be than in his dorm.
So after turning off the computer, he slung the bag over his shoulder, cursing the strap conflicting with the strap of his tennis bag, and opened the window over Terada's bed, letting himself out. He left the window open on purpose.
The forecast for tonight called for rain, and there was already a slight drizzle falling from the black sky.
Rating: R for language (otherwise PG)
Summary: Ayato is sick of the way Kouji has been treating him recently. See the comments for this post for immediately pre-log context.
Ayato stormed down the hall, glad that it was late enough that there weren’t many people in the hallways. He didn’t care that he’d left his bag in the library, or even that he’d left his Livejournal entry open. All he cared about was getting back to his room. Right now.
He didn’t even pause as he yanked open the door and crossed the short distance from the doorway to his roommate’s desk. “What the hell is wrong with you?” he demanded, fingers curling into a fist as he glared at Takayama-kun, blinking up at him in the glow of his monitor.
Kouji shrugged in response. Terada had been awfully spastic lately … maybe he was getting sick again. It would figure. Geez … what was this that couldn't be said over the journal? He was beginning to like being able to spend time around his own stuff at night, too, and now his roommate had to come back and ruin it. "I dunno," he said, looking over at Terada out of the corner of his eye, but not turning to face him. "What's wrong with you?"
That was it. Ayato was sick of being treated like so much dirt. First Takayama-kun’s friend, and now Takayama himself. He’d been resigned to put up with it - he really was putting his roommate out with this whole mess, but Takayama had seemed so… all right with it at first. And if he was going to be all right with it, then why wouldn’t he just leave Ayato alone?
“You are,” he growled, and the hand that had been itching to hit something found itself slamming into Takayama’s cheek as he knocked his roommate backwards off the chair.
Kouji was even less prepared for the floor meeting his ass than he was for the fist that struck him in the first place. "Holy fuck," he exclaimed. "You fucking hit me. You bitch. What the hell was that for?" He rubbed his cheek absently, as he pulled himself up onto his desk chair, wondering what in hell didn't compel him to strike back.
“I am sick of being treated like some other species,” Ayato told him hotly, wondering if one punch would be enough to get the point across. “I’m still the same person. What the hell is so hard to understand about that?” He really hadn’t thought Takayama would be so stupid about this whole thing. He’d even offered to transfer rooms. But no, Takayama-kun had said he could stay, only to treat him like this… He didn’t even know what to do anymore. If he left, Takayama might make things worse for him. It was indeed possible.
"No, you're not," Kouji said. He didn't elaborate, because he couldn't, exactly, but Terada wasn't what Kouji thought he was, and so couldn't possibly be the same as he was before. He'd changed.
“Great. So stop treating me differently.” Ayato gazed steadily at his roommate, wondering if he actually would. And why things seemed so different now. They weren’t, really - the only thing that had changed was that Takayama was making a big deal out of things. “I didn’t think you were that squeamish.”
"I'm not fucking squeamish!" Kouji exclaimed. "I didn't ask for this, okay? I just want my goddamned life back, and you're not making it any easier for me. Geez!" He sighed - he wanted to hit him back. Terada deserved it just as much as he did, if not moreso, for causing all of this trouble in the first place.
He wanted his life back? Just who did he think he was? “Yeah, well, like I did? You’re the one making this hard - I’m not doing anything. Look, I’m sorry this happened, but I don’t see why you’re making such a big deal out of it. You’re acting squeamish.” Ayato eyed the tape dividing the room in half. “I haven’t done anything to you at all this week.”
"If you're so sorry then why the fuck did you hit me?" Did Terada really think it would actually help anything? Oh, yeah, that'd be a great way to boost his self-image … taking a hit from a stupid scrawny little …
“Because you’re making it awfully hard to be sorry,” Ayato informed him shortly, his fist itching for something to hit again. “Do you want me to do it again? I think I recall you having called me a pushover recently…” Which, normally, was true. Except not now, not anymore that Takayama-kun had been trying so hard to make his life miserable.
"Because you are!" Kouji said. "I don't care if you think you're hot shit now because you're getting away with this, don't forget that you're only getting away with it because I'm letting you." Which was true enough. He could have gone to the authorities and told them what was up and they'd have Terada out of there in two seconds flat.
Kouji just wasn't exactly sure that he wanted that. He knew he shouldn't be putting up with this as easily as he was … he probably shouldn't be putting up with it at all. Any ordinary student would have Terada reported. Whether it was so Kouji could feel less ordinary, or like he was getting away with something, too, or for some other reason he hardly thought to name, he hadn't told anyone what he'd found out. There was speculation, to be sure, now, likely due to Kouji's comments, but ultimately, he'd kept his word.
Ayato blinked at that, face going white for a moment. “Don’t even think about telling anyone.” He sighed; he knew he was really in no position to threaten Takayama-kun. That was Ayato’s problem, really - he was a pushover because he couldn’t really back up anything he said. Not even against Takayama-kun. Not tonight. His temper had cooled all too quickly with the reminder of just what Takayama-kun was doing for him.
“Look,” he said, glancing off to the side. “I know what you’re doing for me, so don’t think I don’t appreciate that. I just don’t appreciate the other stuff.” He sighed again. “Whatever. I left my stuff at the library and I gotta be up early.” He took a few steps to the door, thinking that he should probably just drop this whole thing. It wasn’t worth it. He really did owe Takayama-kun a lot more than he was giving him credit for.
"Fine," was all Kouji said. At least Terada wasn't going to hit him again. That would've just made everything worse. Again. Because nothing ever got better for him … it only got worse. Maybe he really would leave tonight….
“I’ll be back later,” Ayato said shortly, pulling the poor open and leaving, face beginning to flush as he realized just how stupid he really was when he got mad. And he’d gone and done it again. He really would be lucky if Takayama-kun hadn’t turned him in by the end of the week. He resolved, for the second time that week, to just leave his roommate alone and stop responding to whatever Takayama did. Maybe going home this weekend really would be a good idea. He’d have to talk to Hikari-chan. Tomorrow.
As soon as Terada was out the door, Kouji locked it, and went to his closet to pack a bag. He put enough of his stuff in there for a couple of days … he really didn't feel like doing much of anything, especially going to class, so maybe he wouldn't, and if he changed his mind he could always come back. But right now anywhere was a better place to be than in his dorm.
So after turning off the computer, he slung the bag over his shoulder, cursing the strap conflicting with the strap of his tennis bag, and opened the window over Terada's bed, letting himself out. He left the window open on purpose.
The forecast for tonight called for rain, and there was already a slight drizzle falling from the black sky.