(no subject)
Title: Unintentional
Fandom: Street Fighter
Characters/Pairing: Ken/Ryu
Genre: Romance, General
Rating: G
I don't think it was what he looked like that made me think it. Granted, I hadn't seen a lot of people when he came along, but he looked so very different that I couldn't help staring. His eyes, their color and shape, were much like all the other Japanese I'd seen in the town at the foot of the mountain, but his hair wasn't. It was bright blonde and looked very...different from all the black and brown hair I'd seen my entire life. Of course, Gouken-sensei let me know that I was staring and I was being rude, but Ken just smiled at me. I fumbled over an English greeting Sensei had taught me, trying to accomodate, but he had just laughed and waved his hand at me. And then, in Japanese with a heavy American accent, he said to me, "I can speak Japanese. It'll sound funny until I get used to it, but I think it's a little better than your English."
I didn't know whether to be insulted or relieved, so I just nodded and paid strict attention to Gouken-sensei as he explained that this was Masters Ken and that he would be joining us in our training. Half of me was excited; there was an opponent I could test myself against at last. The other half was disappointed and angry; it had been just Sensei and I for so long, I was reluctant to welcome this foreign intruder. I made up my mind to keep him my rival in two ways; one in a contest of skill, and another for Sensei's attention and praise.
I apparently did not have a choice in the matter. I did my best to keep our relationship entirely professional, but little by little, Ken patiently and charmingly nudged his way into my acceptance, and then into my friendship. I had never had another to talk to up on this mountain, much less a boy my age, so somewhere deep down I had actually longed for a friend such as he. Ken's arrival did more for my heart than anything could have ever done for my fists.
The first time I realized that Ken was not going to allow me to get by with my cold disposition was when Sensei was instructing us on our katas in the morning. Sensei had retreated into the dojo for a moment and Ken used that oppertunity to turn to me and pull the most serious face I had ever seen, an exact replica of Sensei's expression. He then told me firmly exactly what Sensei had said in the most ridiculous voice I had ever heard in my entire life. I couldn't help it; his face and voice combined struck me as humorous and, for the first time in my life, I laughed because I had found something amusing.
We were both punished for goofing around with an assignment of chores, and Ken let his brilliant character shine through again by taking some of my load as his own, claiming loudly that he was a man and as a man, it was his duty to pay for his actions. A warm feeling took over me then, and inwardly I hoped that tomorrow Ken would say something funny again, so that I could laugh.
Ken didn't disappoint me. He was always inventing knew and utterly ludicrous ways of making me crack a smile or even burst out in loud chuckles, despite the fact that I had been rather rude to him for the first few weeks. Then again, it wasn't only his sociable side that Ken allowed me to see, and I think that was what brought us closer in the end.
After a few months of training, on a dark and cold night, I awoke very abruptly. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes and looking around, I searched for the noise or motion that had startled me. Next to me, Ken had his face tucked into his pillow and it took me a moment to recognize the shuddering of his shoulders as crying. I debated leaving him alone, as I knew that if I were crying into my pillow I would most certainly not want him to see me, but before I could even roll over and go back to sleep I found that my hand had already made its way to his back and pressed itself between his shoulder blades.
Ken jumped and quickly rubbed his face against his pillow, rolling over and sitting up, keeping his head hung and turned away from me so I could not see his undoubtedly bloodshot eyes. "S-sorry, Ryu. Did I wake you?" he asked in slightly broken Japanese; he was upset.
"Are you hurt?" It was my experience that if someone was hurt, they cried. I could think of no other feasible explanation. "Should I go get Gouken-sensei?"
"No...no, I'm not hurt. I..." Ken had pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his chin atop his knees. "I miss my parents."
And suddenly I was awash with the most horrible guilt I had ever felt in my entire life. I didn't have parents, but I did have Gouken-sensei, so I could imagine myself sent across the world in a strange new place, away from him, surrounded by strangers and unable to even speak with him. I hadn't done anything to help his situation either, with my selfish and chilly reception. I perhaps made him feel even more alienated than before, and all out of my desire to have Sensei to myself.
From Ken's stories, people in America were very physical, and Ken was no exclusion. I could tell he was trying to keep a respectful distance, but a clap on the shoulder and an arm slung around the neck every so often displayed his craving for touch. I decided that I would have to try and meet him halfway, and scooted over to him, taking my blanket with me and awkwardly draped an arm across his back, fingers clenching his sleeve. I took my blanket and put it over our shoulders and a flash of pity -or perhaps insight- made me rest my head against Ken's, our hair mixing between us. I couldn't think of anything to say, but Ken told me later that just sitting with me had been the best medicine for him.
Of course, somewhere along the line we had fallen asleep and woke the next morning curled up and hugging each other, but we vowed to never speak of it again.
Years passed, and our friendship strengthened.
He grew his hair out when I told him one day that I liked the color; by the time we were sixteen, it had reached the middle of his back and was tied back with a red strip of cloth. He was faster than I was, but I was stronger and we balanced each other out nicely, although we always had better fights working together against Gouken-sensei than we did sparring each other. He grew, as did I, but I was strangely disappointed when I discovered that he was several centimeters taller than myself. His face lost the last traces of baby fat and grew defined, although its boyish roundness never left, despite the strengthening of his chin. He could eat almost as much as I could, and always marveled at the speed I could put away our meals. It was a bit of a ritual to him, to slowly eat and watch as I inhaled several bowls of rice, two fish and a kettle of green tea by myself in the time it took him to finish one bowl of rice and half a fish. He confided in me that he was jealous that I could eat so much, and so quickly at that. I laughed then, unprovoked for once. What a strange thing to be jealous over, but Ken was just like that sometimes.
When the time came for Ken to leave, I could hardly believe it; his presence had become so natural to me. It was like the sunlight leaving, it was such a foreign idea. The night before his scheduled flight, after he had finished packing his few things -Sensei had stressed to him the importance of not having many material attachments- he sat down with me on the roof outside, watching the stars peek out from the darkening sky. He asked me when I wanted to visit him in the States.
I had looked at him in suprise then, and asked what he meant by that.
"...You're my best friend," he had told me matter-of-factly, giving me his patented, 'You Are A Damn Idiot' look before continuing. "I would hope you'd visit me. Of course, if you never want to see me again I won't ever understand, so don't worry about it."
"No!" I'd blushed then, embarassed, and tried again, ignoring his smirk. "I mean, I'd like to visit you, but...I don't have any money, I mean..."
"That's not a problem. Just write me, and I'll have Dad hook you up with tickets, or maybe he'll send his jet over to get you to avoid the whole thing."
A feeling crashed over me then, and it wasn't until I felt my eyes sting that I understood that I was going to cry. I took a deep, shuddering breath, and then another, somehow pushing the urge to cry down far enough so that I could later that night, without Ken seeing. The aching sensation that I had felt in my chest the entire day finally gave itself a name.
Loneliness. I didn't want Ken to go; I wanted him to stay so badly that I was on the verge of hiding his plane ticket, just so that he'd have to stay only a moment longer.
Ken must have seen my face, because he reached over and hooked my head under his arm, digging his knuckles into the top of my head in what he said was called a 'noogie,' an action I had clearly identified to him as something I hated. "Come on, man, it's not like I won't ever write! I'll write you every day, if you want me to; and I'll send you pictures, because I know you'll be missing my gorgeous face."
I'd kissed him then.
It was sudden, and it was strange and I don't know why I did it or how I knew to do it, but I'd just slipped my head from under his arm and kissed him, very quickly and on the lips before pulling back and looking back up at the sky, propping myself up on my hands behind me.
Ken sat stunned for a second before assuming a more relaxed position, looking at the sky as well. "...this is a bit of a different situation now," he said after a while, voice low and uncertain. "...Ryu, I don't think..."
"It's fine," I interrupted him, not wanting to hear him say it. I understood without he saying it anyways. "It was rude of me to do that anyways."
"Well...I didn't say I didn't like it."
That made me look up. Ken was still watching the sky, but his cheeks were pink and his lips hinted at a small smile. "...I'm still leaving tomorrow, but...I think we should look into it. Maybe when you visit, okay?"
My stomach twisted happily and, if I were the type, I would have giggled to myself. "Okay."
Ken looked at me and pulled his long hair over his shoulder, untying it. A light breeze, the same one blowing the entire night caught his hair and sent it behind him, like a bundle of flashing golden streamers, and he held out his red tie to me. "Here."
"But you love this thing," I protested, even though my fingers were already lingering in his palm, taking it from him. My other hand reached behind my head to remove the knot of my white headband.
"A keepsake. And a promise...for, y'know." Ken offered me his crooked grin.
I accepted the smile and the cloth fully, removing my headband fully and cinching the red one into place. "I won't be forgetting, now."
"Heaven forbid."
Fandom: Street Fighter
Characters/Pairing: Ken/Ryu
Genre: Romance, General
Rating: G
I don't think it was what he looked like that made me think it. Granted, I hadn't seen a lot of people when he came along, but he looked so very different that I couldn't help staring. His eyes, their color and shape, were much like all the other Japanese I'd seen in the town at the foot of the mountain, but his hair wasn't. It was bright blonde and looked very...different from all the black and brown hair I'd seen my entire life. Of course, Gouken-sensei let me know that I was staring and I was being rude, but Ken just smiled at me. I fumbled over an English greeting Sensei had taught me, trying to accomodate, but he had just laughed and waved his hand at me. And then, in Japanese with a heavy American accent, he said to me, "I can speak Japanese. It'll sound funny until I get used to it, but I think it's a little better than your English."
I didn't know whether to be insulted or relieved, so I just nodded and paid strict attention to Gouken-sensei as he explained that this was Masters Ken and that he would be joining us in our training. Half of me was excited; there was an opponent I could test myself against at last. The other half was disappointed and angry; it had been just Sensei and I for so long, I was reluctant to welcome this foreign intruder. I made up my mind to keep him my rival in two ways; one in a contest of skill, and another for Sensei's attention and praise.
I apparently did not have a choice in the matter. I did my best to keep our relationship entirely professional, but little by little, Ken patiently and charmingly nudged his way into my acceptance, and then into my friendship. I had never had another to talk to up on this mountain, much less a boy my age, so somewhere deep down I had actually longed for a friend such as he. Ken's arrival did more for my heart than anything could have ever done for my fists.
The first time I realized that Ken was not going to allow me to get by with my cold disposition was when Sensei was instructing us on our katas in the morning. Sensei had retreated into the dojo for a moment and Ken used that oppertunity to turn to me and pull the most serious face I had ever seen, an exact replica of Sensei's expression. He then told me firmly exactly what Sensei had said in the most ridiculous voice I had ever heard in my entire life. I couldn't help it; his face and voice combined struck me as humorous and, for the first time in my life, I laughed because I had found something amusing.
We were both punished for goofing around with an assignment of chores, and Ken let his brilliant character shine through again by taking some of my load as his own, claiming loudly that he was a man and as a man, it was his duty to pay for his actions. A warm feeling took over me then, and inwardly I hoped that tomorrow Ken would say something funny again, so that I could laugh.
Ken didn't disappoint me. He was always inventing knew and utterly ludicrous ways of making me crack a smile or even burst out in loud chuckles, despite the fact that I had been rather rude to him for the first few weeks. Then again, it wasn't only his sociable side that Ken allowed me to see, and I think that was what brought us closer in the end.
After a few months of training, on a dark and cold night, I awoke very abruptly. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes and looking around, I searched for the noise or motion that had startled me. Next to me, Ken had his face tucked into his pillow and it took me a moment to recognize the shuddering of his shoulders as crying. I debated leaving him alone, as I knew that if I were crying into my pillow I would most certainly not want him to see me, but before I could even roll over and go back to sleep I found that my hand had already made its way to his back and pressed itself between his shoulder blades.
Ken jumped and quickly rubbed his face against his pillow, rolling over and sitting up, keeping his head hung and turned away from me so I could not see his undoubtedly bloodshot eyes. "S-sorry, Ryu. Did I wake you?" he asked in slightly broken Japanese; he was upset.
"Are you hurt?" It was my experience that if someone was hurt, they cried. I could think of no other feasible explanation. "Should I go get Gouken-sensei?"
"No...no, I'm not hurt. I..." Ken had pulled his legs up to his chest and rested his chin atop his knees. "I miss my parents."
And suddenly I was awash with the most horrible guilt I had ever felt in my entire life. I didn't have parents, but I did have Gouken-sensei, so I could imagine myself sent across the world in a strange new place, away from him, surrounded by strangers and unable to even speak with him. I hadn't done anything to help his situation either, with my selfish and chilly reception. I perhaps made him feel even more alienated than before, and all out of my desire to have Sensei to myself.
From Ken's stories, people in America were very physical, and Ken was no exclusion. I could tell he was trying to keep a respectful distance, but a clap on the shoulder and an arm slung around the neck every so often displayed his craving for touch. I decided that I would have to try and meet him halfway, and scooted over to him, taking my blanket with me and awkwardly draped an arm across his back, fingers clenching his sleeve. I took my blanket and put it over our shoulders and a flash of pity -or perhaps insight- made me rest my head against Ken's, our hair mixing between us. I couldn't think of anything to say, but Ken told me later that just sitting with me had been the best medicine for him.
Of course, somewhere along the line we had fallen asleep and woke the next morning curled up and hugging each other, but we vowed to never speak of it again.
Years passed, and our friendship strengthened.
He grew his hair out when I told him one day that I liked the color; by the time we were sixteen, it had reached the middle of his back and was tied back with a red strip of cloth. He was faster than I was, but I was stronger and we balanced each other out nicely, although we always had better fights working together against Gouken-sensei than we did sparring each other. He grew, as did I, but I was strangely disappointed when I discovered that he was several centimeters taller than myself. His face lost the last traces of baby fat and grew defined, although its boyish roundness never left, despite the strengthening of his chin. He could eat almost as much as I could, and always marveled at the speed I could put away our meals. It was a bit of a ritual to him, to slowly eat and watch as I inhaled several bowls of rice, two fish and a kettle of green tea by myself in the time it took him to finish one bowl of rice and half a fish. He confided in me that he was jealous that I could eat so much, and so quickly at that. I laughed then, unprovoked for once. What a strange thing to be jealous over, but Ken was just like that sometimes.
When the time came for Ken to leave, I could hardly believe it; his presence had become so natural to me. It was like the sunlight leaving, it was such a foreign idea. The night before his scheduled flight, after he had finished packing his few things -Sensei had stressed to him the importance of not having many material attachments- he sat down with me on the roof outside, watching the stars peek out from the darkening sky. He asked me when I wanted to visit him in the States.
I had looked at him in suprise then, and asked what he meant by that.
"...You're my best friend," he had told me matter-of-factly, giving me his patented, 'You Are A Damn Idiot' look before continuing. "I would hope you'd visit me. Of course, if you never want to see me again I won't ever understand, so don't worry about it."
"No!" I'd blushed then, embarassed, and tried again, ignoring his smirk. "I mean, I'd like to visit you, but...I don't have any money, I mean..."
"That's not a problem. Just write me, and I'll have Dad hook you up with tickets, or maybe he'll send his jet over to get you to avoid the whole thing."
A feeling crashed over me then, and it wasn't until I felt my eyes sting that I understood that I was going to cry. I took a deep, shuddering breath, and then another, somehow pushing the urge to cry down far enough so that I could later that night, without Ken seeing. The aching sensation that I had felt in my chest the entire day finally gave itself a name.
Loneliness. I didn't want Ken to go; I wanted him to stay so badly that I was on the verge of hiding his plane ticket, just so that he'd have to stay only a moment longer.
Ken must have seen my face, because he reached over and hooked my head under his arm, digging his knuckles into the top of my head in what he said was called a 'noogie,' an action I had clearly identified to him as something I hated. "Come on, man, it's not like I won't ever write! I'll write you every day, if you want me to; and I'll send you pictures, because I know you'll be missing my gorgeous face."
I'd kissed him then.
It was sudden, and it was strange and I don't know why I did it or how I knew to do it, but I'd just slipped my head from under his arm and kissed him, very quickly and on the lips before pulling back and looking back up at the sky, propping myself up on my hands behind me.
Ken sat stunned for a second before assuming a more relaxed position, looking at the sky as well. "...this is a bit of a different situation now," he said after a while, voice low and uncertain. "...Ryu, I don't think..."
"It's fine," I interrupted him, not wanting to hear him say it. I understood without he saying it anyways. "It was rude of me to do that anyways."
"Well...I didn't say I didn't like it."
That made me look up. Ken was still watching the sky, but his cheeks were pink and his lips hinted at a small smile. "...I'm still leaving tomorrow, but...I think we should look into it. Maybe when you visit, okay?"
My stomach twisted happily and, if I were the type, I would have giggled to myself. "Okay."
Ken looked at me and pulled his long hair over his shoulder, untying it. A light breeze, the same one blowing the entire night caught his hair and sent it behind him, like a bundle of flashing golden streamers, and he held out his red tie to me. "Here."
"But you love this thing," I protested, even though my fingers were already lingering in his palm, taking it from him. My other hand reached behind my head to remove the knot of my white headband.
"A keepsake. And a promise...for, y'know." Ken offered me his crooked grin.
I accepted the smile and the cloth fully, removing my headband fully and cinching the red one into place. "I won't be forgetting, now."
"Heaven forbid."