I'm going to hell, probably
Title: Matryoshka
Fandom: Kamen Rider Ryuki (part of the Akiyama Squared crack fanon)
Rated: T
Summary: There's a secret behind Ren's fighting style. A reason behind Knight's grace. And it's something he doesn't want to get out.
There are things about himself Ren has shared with no one, not even Eri. It’s the secret behind his fighting style, why that even though his swordplay is amateurish though efficient, there is a trained grace in the way he moves, why he always seems aware of where he’s put his feet, why a leap for flight is so effortless.
When his mother had grown up in the Soviet Union, attendance at artistic events was strongly encouraged by the government, and ballet was especially popular. That interest remained when she immigrated to Japan, and she passed it down to at least one of her sons. At a young age, Ren was enrolled in an academy specializing in the Vaganova method, training his upper body just as much as his lower. And on top of that, he was very good, frequently being picked in lead roles throughout high school.
But it was something that Ren preferred be kept secret, particularly the more he got into fights toward the end of elementary school and in high school. It was something he was afraid would be used against him. He continued training, but by the time he left home, he’d begun concealing his identity by using his mother’s maiden name, Zakharov. Ryo, his younger brother, had never understood just why Ren wanted to keep his talent a secret, but then, Ryo wouldn’t have had much of a problem dancing on stage in a bulging jock strap and tights, where Ren had noticeably more shame.
He’d joined a small company about a year after he’d settled into his new life, and a few months after that, he’d met Eri. And his secret became a routine. Performing with the company was the steadiest job he’d had in years, and he was careful enough with his money that he could survive off wages from performances when he was between jobs. Even after he’d become a Kamen Rider, he managed to keep up. It was a little challenging now to balance out his time with the company, his latest part-time job, his job at Atori, and his battles as a Rider, but he’d figured it out well enough and knew how to keep anyone from finding out.
Eun-ji Choe was his partner today, as they practiced for a festival. The whole company was performing pieces from various ballets, and theirs was the Black Swan pas de deux from Swan Lake. It was a challenging piece, with a lot of pressure on them to get it right, but Ren and Eun-ji made it through the steps diligently. As the dance ended, Ren supported the twirling Eun-ji before dropping to a knee and holding her hand as she stood in an arabesque. Ren’s focus was on her, but the unexpected sound of clapping broke his concentration, and he glanced to the side to see where it had come from.
And then his carefully constructed divide had been broken, blurring the lines between Rider and dancer as he saw Kitaoka.
“Bravo,” he said. “I didn’t know you were capable of such a thing.”
Ren very nearly dropped Eun-ji, but she’d managed to return to a standing position before he could. She walked over to Kitaoka and bowed in gratitude while Ren forced himself to stand, and she said, “Thank you. You’re the lawyer, Kitaoka, am I right?”
“The one and only,” Kitaoka replied, giving her a charming smile. “I’m an acquaintance of Akiyama’s, and I was surprised to see him here when I came to meet the members of the ballet troupe.”
“Akiyama?” Eun-ji asked, giving Ren an accusatory look. He couldn’t meet her eyes. Instead, he pretended to be busy digging through his duffel bag.
“Oh?” Kitaoka asked, easily picking up on the tension. “So you’ve been using another name? You shouldn’t be so shy. And here, I’m such a lover of the arts, and you never let on that you shared the same interest. You should be proud of your skill.”
Ren tried to ignore him, taking out a bottle of water. But his hands shook slightly as he tried to open it, and his grip was so tight that water spilled over onto the floor. It was enough for Kitaoka to know that he’d gotten to Ren, and he said, “Well, in that case, I’ll enjoy seeing you at the festival.”
As Kitaoka left, confident in how much he’d shaken Ren, Eun-ji flatly said, “If you were using a fake name, you should have picked one that was more convincing, Zakharov.”
Ren took his towel and wiped up the spill, answering, “It’s my mother’s maiden name. Khynika Zakharova Akiyama.” When he stood and made himself look at her, he saw the unconvinced look on her face. “I have reasons for not wanting people to find out who I really am.”
“Clearly,” she answered. “What happened between the two of you back there?”
Aside from the fact that they were both masked warriors fighting for their own desires and had to kill each other in order to obtain their wish? There at least was a ready-made excuse, one that had enough witnesses to support it, and Ren explained, “I had to hire him to help my roommate out of some legal trouble. Kitaoka turned on him, though, and tried to entrap him. At the same time, he was harassing me for payment and started to go after the other people I live with. He’s had a grudge against the both of us since we fired and humiliated him. You can write ORE Journal if you don’t believe me; my roommate is their intern.”
Eun-ji stared at him for a moment, judging his story. Finally, she sighed, “I’ll let the others know to keep an eye out for him, if he’s going to keep harassing you. Anyone else we should know about?”
Ren shrugged. “Nobody I haven’t pissed off in the past year.”
She groaned in annoyance and headed off, leaving him alone and exposed. He didn’t know what to do now that Kitaoka knew about this little secret. He doubted that there was anything Kitaoka could do about it, but he could always let it slip to Ren’s housemates, and that would invite a whole new round of questioning that he really didn’t want to go through. He didn’t like people knowing too much about him. He was used to hiding himself-not so much like wearing a mask as much as like the nesting dolls that his mother had owned. On the very outermost layer was the part of his personality that he let everyone see: calm, collected, with a temper if pushed too far, generally disaffected. Then there was a layer that was Kamen Rider Knight, and there was a part of him that was Eri’s lover, and a part that was part of the Zakharov-Akiyama family, and deeper and deeper it went until it reached the innermost core of who he was. But Ren did all he could to keep himself only at the outermost shells of either human or Rider. He wasn’t sure he himself wanted to know what was at the core.
The days leading up to the festival were torture. Every time there was a battle, Kitaoka was there, just watching Ren smugly and making the occasional comment about his fighting style. Ren constantly had to leave, typically dragging Shinji along with him, and the frequency this was happening was beginning to worry him and Yui. The only times Ren got a reprieve were during his visits to Eri and during practice. At least he was sure that Kitaoka didn’t know about Eri, making it easier for him to break down from the stress. At practice, he had to put everything aside and focus on his dancing, ignoring the semi-suspicious way the others in the company were regarding him.
But the festival finally arrived, and just about everyone forgot about him in the excitement of preparation. There would be other performers, and the director insisted on outshining everybody. The costumes got a few touchups to make them a little flashier than usual. Ren’s tunic had rhinestones set as accents alongside the silver embroidery, and for added contrast, white tights-something that only increased his feeling of self-consciousness, since they made his dance belt all the more conspicuous. Still, he knew, much as every instinct told him to run, that things would only be worse if he didn’t go through with it. If Kitaoka had the satisfaction of knowing that he’d made Ren run scared.
And so, just like he’d done as a kid, he ignored the audience, instead focusing on his dancing and on his partner. They began with their solos, and Ren made it through his expertly, determined not to let himself make a mistake. As they moved into the pas de deux itself, he kept up with Eun-ji’s steps with perfect measure, lifting and supporting her effortlessly. When they took their bows to thunderous applause, he was able to forget everything for the moment, just caught up in the adrenaline rush.
But he noticed in the third row, an onnagata from a kabuki troupe that had performed earlier, clapping almost reluctantly. Though he didn’t have a good look, there was something undeniably familiar about the onnagata. He seemed to notice Ren looking at him and began to leave, so Ren started after him.
“Where are you going?” Eun-ji asked. “We all have to be here for the end!”
“Just a minute,” Ren insisted, taking his leave.
The onnagata had a head start, but his costume was heavy enough to slow him down. Ren caught up to him quickly, calling out, “Looks like I’m not the only one with something to hide.”
The onnagata turned, confirming his suspicions. Despite the heavy makeup and wig, Kitaoka’s attempts to look casual in the face of humiliation were unmistakable.
“I guess the jig is up,” he sighed. “What are the odds that two Riders have a hobby of dressing in garish clothing and performing on stage?”
“You’ve been trying to blackmail me this whole time,” Ren pointed out.
“You don’t have to put it that way,” Kitaoka reasoned. “Let’s make a deal: if you forget that you ever learned about my hobby, I can forget your dancing.”
“You think that’s enough?” Ren shouted.
By now, people were beginning to stare. At the stage, Eun-ji had caught on and alerted the director, who was beginning to make her way over. Ren forced himself to control his temper. If he got angry, then Kitaoka would have the advantage. But Kitaoka was a well-respected attorney with a public image to uphold, and Ren was a nobody. Ren was the one who held all the cards.
“What more do you want?” Kitaoka asked, as eager to get out of the situation as Ren was.
“Keep away from me,” he insisted. “Forget my dancing, forget I hired you to help Kido, forget everything. Unless there’s an emergency, don’t go anywhere near where I live or work. Or I can’t promise that a journalist at ORE won’t learn about this.”
Kitaoka seemed surprised for a moment that Ren was able to turn the tables against him so easily, but with so much attention drawn to them, he didn’t want to fight the inverted blackmail. Finally, he held up his hands in surrender and replied, “All right, you win. Enjoy yourself.”
Kitaoka then unfurled a fan he’d kept hidden in his kimono and used it to help conceal his face as he walked away with as much dignity as he could muster. Ren turned away from him in relief. It was disturbing seeing another layer to someone, if not as disturbing as having your own revealed. Hiding that innermost core was vital to self-preservation, and the closer it came to being exposed, the more dangerous it was.
And yet, though he felt way too close to that hidden core, Ren felt a little more comfortable with himself, more than he’d felt in a while.
Of course, this didn’t mean that Ren was comfortable enough with anybody else finding out. Some things were better left secret.
Standard disclaimers: Kamen Rider Ryuki is owned by Toei and Ishimori Productions, and Swan Lake is public domain, I believe. What little I know about ballet comes from watching Swan Lake, what I learned from my mother, and watching Princess Tutu.
Pas de deux: a duet dance.
Dance belt: a special undergarment worn by male ballet dancers to support their genitals and make them a little less conspicuous under the tights (but it's still pretty noticeable.
Onnagata: in kabuki, a man who plays a woman's part.
Fandom: Kamen Rider Ryuki (part of the Akiyama Squared crack fanon)
Rated: T
Summary: There's a secret behind Ren's fighting style. A reason behind Knight's grace. And it's something he doesn't want to get out.
There are things about himself Ren has shared with no one, not even Eri. It’s the secret behind his fighting style, why that even though his swordplay is amateurish though efficient, there is a trained grace in the way he moves, why he always seems aware of where he’s put his feet, why a leap for flight is so effortless.
When his mother had grown up in the Soviet Union, attendance at artistic events was strongly encouraged by the government, and ballet was especially popular. That interest remained when she immigrated to Japan, and she passed it down to at least one of her sons. At a young age, Ren was enrolled in an academy specializing in the Vaganova method, training his upper body just as much as his lower. And on top of that, he was very good, frequently being picked in lead roles throughout high school.
But it was something that Ren preferred be kept secret, particularly the more he got into fights toward the end of elementary school and in high school. It was something he was afraid would be used against him. He continued training, but by the time he left home, he’d begun concealing his identity by using his mother’s maiden name, Zakharov. Ryo, his younger brother, had never understood just why Ren wanted to keep his talent a secret, but then, Ryo wouldn’t have had much of a problem dancing on stage in a bulging jock strap and tights, where Ren had noticeably more shame.
He’d joined a small company about a year after he’d settled into his new life, and a few months after that, he’d met Eri. And his secret became a routine. Performing with the company was the steadiest job he’d had in years, and he was careful enough with his money that he could survive off wages from performances when he was between jobs. Even after he’d become a Kamen Rider, he managed to keep up. It was a little challenging now to balance out his time with the company, his latest part-time job, his job at Atori, and his battles as a Rider, but he’d figured it out well enough and knew how to keep anyone from finding out.
Eun-ji Choe was his partner today, as they practiced for a festival. The whole company was performing pieces from various ballets, and theirs was the Black Swan pas de deux from Swan Lake. It was a challenging piece, with a lot of pressure on them to get it right, but Ren and Eun-ji made it through the steps diligently. As the dance ended, Ren supported the twirling Eun-ji before dropping to a knee and holding her hand as she stood in an arabesque. Ren’s focus was on her, but the unexpected sound of clapping broke his concentration, and he glanced to the side to see where it had come from.
And then his carefully constructed divide had been broken, blurring the lines between Rider and dancer as he saw Kitaoka.
“Bravo,” he said. “I didn’t know you were capable of such a thing.”
Ren very nearly dropped Eun-ji, but she’d managed to return to a standing position before he could. She walked over to Kitaoka and bowed in gratitude while Ren forced himself to stand, and she said, “Thank you. You’re the lawyer, Kitaoka, am I right?”
“The one and only,” Kitaoka replied, giving her a charming smile. “I’m an acquaintance of Akiyama’s, and I was surprised to see him here when I came to meet the members of the ballet troupe.”
“Akiyama?” Eun-ji asked, giving Ren an accusatory look. He couldn’t meet her eyes. Instead, he pretended to be busy digging through his duffel bag.
“Oh?” Kitaoka asked, easily picking up on the tension. “So you’ve been using another name? You shouldn’t be so shy. And here, I’m such a lover of the arts, and you never let on that you shared the same interest. You should be proud of your skill.”
Ren tried to ignore him, taking out a bottle of water. But his hands shook slightly as he tried to open it, and his grip was so tight that water spilled over onto the floor. It was enough for Kitaoka to know that he’d gotten to Ren, and he said, “Well, in that case, I’ll enjoy seeing you at the festival.”
As Kitaoka left, confident in how much he’d shaken Ren, Eun-ji flatly said, “If you were using a fake name, you should have picked one that was more convincing, Zakharov.”
Ren took his towel and wiped up the spill, answering, “It’s my mother’s maiden name. Khynika Zakharova Akiyama.” When he stood and made himself look at her, he saw the unconvinced look on her face. “I have reasons for not wanting people to find out who I really am.”
“Clearly,” she answered. “What happened between the two of you back there?”
Aside from the fact that they were both masked warriors fighting for their own desires and had to kill each other in order to obtain their wish? There at least was a ready-made excuse, one that had enough witnesses to support it, and Ren explained, “I had to hire him to help my roommate out of some legal trouble. Kitaoka turned on him, though, and tried to entrap him. At the same time, he was harassing me for payment and started to go after the other people I live with. He’s had a grudge against the both of us since we fired and humiliated him. You can write ORE Journal if you don’t believe me; my roommate is their intern.”
Eun-ji stared at him for a moment, judging his story. Finally, she sighed, “I’ll let the others know to keep an eye out for him, if he’s going to keep harassing you. Anyone else we should know about?”
Ren shrugged. “Nobody I haven’t pissed off in the past year.”
She groaned in annoyance and headed off, leaving him alone and exposed. He didn’t know what to do now that Kitaoka knew about this little secret. He doubted that there was anything Kitaoka could do about it, but he could always let it slip to Ren’s housemates, and that would invite a whole new round of questioning that he really didn’t want to go through. He didn’t like people knowing too much about him. He was used to hiding himself-not so much like wearing a mask as much as like the nesting dolls that his mother had owned. On the very outermost layer was the part of his personality that he let everyone see: calm, collected, with a temper if pushed too far, generally disaffected. Then there was a layer that was Kamen Rider Knight, and there was a part of him that was Eri’s lover, and a part that was part of the Zakharov-Akiyama family, and deeper and deeper it went until it reached the innermost core of who he was. But Ren did all he could to keep himself only at the outermost shells of either human or Rider. He wasn’t sure he himself wanted to know what was at the core.
The days leading up to the festival were torture. Every time there was a battle, Kitaoka was there, just watching Ren smugly and making the occasional comment about his fighting style. Ren constantly had to leave, typically dragging Shinji along with him, and the frequency this was happening was beginning to worry him and Yui. The only times Ren got a reprieve were during his visits to Eri and during practice. At least he was sure that Kitaoka didn’t know about Eri, making it easier for him to break down from the stress. At practice, he had to put everything aside and focus on his dancing, ignoring the semi-suspicious way the others in the company were regarding him.
But the festival finally arrived, and just about everyone forgot about him in the excitement of preparation. There would be other performers, and the director insisted on outshining everybody. The costumes got a few touchups to make them a little flashier than usual. Ren’s tunic had rhinestones set as accents alongside the silver embroidery, and for added contrast, white tights-something that only increased his feeling of self-consciousness, since they made his dance belt all the more conspicuous. Still, he knew, much as every instinct told him to run, that things would only be worse if he didn’t go through with it. If Kitaoka had the satisfaction of knowing that he’d made Ren run scared.
And so, just like he’d done as a kid, he ignored the audience, instead focusing on his dancing and on his partner. They began with their solos, and Ren made it through his expertly, determined not to let himself make a mistake. As they moved into the pas de deux itself, he kept up with Eun-ji’s steps with perfect measure, lifting and supporting her effortlessly. When they took their bows to thunderous applause, he was able to forget everything for the moment, just caught up in the adrenaline rush.
But he noticed in the third row, an onnagata from a kabuki troupe that had performed earlier, clapping almost reluctantly. Though he didn’t have a good look, there was something undeniably familiar about the onnagata. He seemed to notice Ren looking at him and began to leave, so Ren started after him.
“Where are you going?” Eun-ji asked. “We all have to be here for the end!”
“Just a minute,” Ren insisted, taking his leave.
The onnagata had a head start, but his costume was heavy enough to slow him down. Ren caught up to him quickly, calling out, “Looks like I’m not the only one with something to hide.”
The onnagata turned, confirming his suspicions. Despite the heavy makeup and wig, Kitaoka’s attempts to look casual in the face of humiliation were unmistakable.
“I guess the jig is up,” he sighed. “What are the odds that two Riders have a hobby of dressing in garish clothing and performing on stage?”
“You’ve been trying to blackmail me this whole time,” Ren pointed out.
“You don’t have to put it that way,” Kitaoka reasoned. “Let’s make a deal: if you forget that you ever learned about my hobby, I can forget your dancing.”
“You think that’s enough?” Ren shouted.
By now, people were beginning to stare. At the stage, Eun-ji had caught on and alerted the director, who was beginning to make her way over. Ren forced himself to control his temper. If he got angry, then Kitaoka would have the advantage. But Kitaoka was a well-respected attorney with a public image to uphold, and Ren was a nobody. Ren was the one who held all the cards.
“What more do you want?” Kitaoka asked, as eager to get out of the situation as Ren was.
“Keep away from me,” he insisted. “Forget my dancing, forget I hired you to help Kido, forget everything. Unless there’s an emergency, don’t go anywhere near where I live or work. Or I can’t promise that a journalist at ORE won’t learn about this.”
Kitaoka seemed surprised for a moment that Ren was able to turn the tables against him so easily, but with so much attention drawn to them, he didn’t want to fight the inverted blackmail. Finally, he held up his hands in surrender and replied, “All right, you win. Enjoy yourself.”
Kitaoka then unfurled a fan he’d kept hidden in his kimono and used it to help conceal his face as he walked away with as much dignity as he could muster. Ren turned away from him in relief. It was disturbing seeing another layer to someone, if not as disturbing as having your own revealed. Hiding that innermost core was vital to self-preservation, and the closer it came to being exposed, the more dangerous it was.
And yet, though he felt way too close to that hidden core, Ren felt a little more comfortable with himself, more than he’d felt in a while.
Of course, this didn’t mean that Ren was comfortable enough with anybody else finding out. Some things were better left secret.
Standard disclaimers: Kamen Rider Ryuki is owned by Toei and Ishimori Productions, and Swan Lake is public domain, I believe. What little I know about ballet comes from watching Swan Lake, what I learned from my mother, and watching Princess Tutu.
Pas de deux: a duet dance.
Dance belt: a special undergarment worn by male ballet dancers to support their genitals and make them a little less conspicuous under the tights (but it's still pretty noticeable.
Onnagata: in kabuki, a man who plays a woman's part.