水土火 (Water, Earth, Fire)
Title: 水土火 (Water, Earth, Fire)
Pairing: Koyama/Ryo/Shige
Rating: PG-13
Words: 2,090
Summary: “Shige had seen him first - a lonely figure trudging down the mountain into their little valley. And if he’d only known then what he was… he’d have moved mountains to keep him away. But even knowing that, how could he have known that Koyama would have fallen for him so hard, so fast, so irrevocably?”
Notes: I expected this to be longer, but I didn’t realize just how long it would have to be to fit my idea. So since I already have one really long AU going and another waiting to go, I didn’t want to be stuck with another monster and I’m just giving you this one piece. I would like to write in this ‘verse again in the future, though, so I hope you like it. :) ETA: fail!Tara is fail. Thanks so much to imifumei for going over this for me and offering moral support. :D She puts up with a lot from me, grammatically. XD
Shige had seen him first - a lonely figure trudging down the mountain into their little valley. And if he’d only known then what he was… he’d have moved mountains to keep him away. But even knowing that, how could he have known that Koyama would have fallen for him so hard, so fast, so irrevocably?
Shige worked in the garden, carefully tending to the plants as he watched the man slowly make his way to their home. The man had stopped at the far edge of the plot and watched Shige work until he straightened up and looked at the stranger, rubbing the back of an earth-covered hand over his forehead and nodding.
The man walked carefully between the rows, stopping a fair distance away and bowing slightly and Shige returned it.
“Been traveling long?” he asked, friendly.
The man nodded. “Weeks.”
Shige shifted his feet. “I guess you’re tired.” He looked off toward the setting sun. “Would like a place to stay.”
“If it wouldn’t be asking too much.”
Shige considered him a moment - smoky eyes with ash-colored smudges underneath, coal-black hair, small but wiry. He didn’t look threatening at the moment, just worn out and he knew Koyama would have a shit-fit if he turned the man away.
“All right. Come on in,” he said, and let the man pick up one of the baskets and follow him into his home.
They set the baskets down and Shige added another log to the fire and told the man he was going out to wash up. When he came back, the man was huddled close to the fire, like he couldn’t warm up.
“Cold?” he asked, lips quirked up and the man turned to regard him.
“This valley. Is it always so wet and cold?”
Shige nodded and then heard fumbling at the door. “Shiiiiigeeee,” he heard sing-songed before the door opened and Koyama stepped in.
“I’m home!” he said with a grin before his eyes shifted and he was pursing his lips thoughtfully at the stranger practically in his hearth. “Hello?”
Shige rushed over to take Koyama’s bundle and the man at the fire stood to face Koyama and bow.
“Ah, Koyama, this is… this is…”
“Nishikido Ryo,” the man said politely.
Koyama clucked his tongue. “Shige, didn’t you even ask his name?”
Shige scratched his neck and blushed a little. “I invited him in, isn’t that enough?” he asked defensively and frowned when laughter bubbled up out of Koyama.
“I’m Koyama Keiichiro, and this is Kato Shigeaki, people-person extraordinaire.”
“Hey!”
Koyama kept up a steady flow of chatter while they made dinner, Nishikido staying by the fire after they turned down his offer to help. They could tell the stranger was tired so they didn’t press him for conversation, but Shige couldn’t help but notice the way Nishikido kept watching Koyama’s every movement. Or the way Nishikido looked at the fried fish like it might hurt him.
“I… don’t like fish,” he said, staring at it and leaning back. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh!” Koyama said softly. “I’m sorry. I would have made something else. Let me go get something else to go with your rice.”
“No! No, please. The vegetables are fine. This is delicious. Thank you.”
Koyama eased back down onto the floor with a hesitant smile. “If you’re sure.”
Shige should have known it then. The signs were all there and he missed them. But fate was funny, sometimes, pulling strings to bring two people together that had no right to be forced to it. Shige and fate had a love/hate relationship. The only act of fate Shige was thankful for was Koyama’s finding him and the love they shared.
Nishikido slept on the floor next to the fire and Shige shook him awake in the morning to move him enough to start breakfast. Nishikido was quick to help and when Koyama woke up and took over for Shige, they moved around in the small kitchen like it had always been the two of them. Koyama and Shige had years of time together and they knew each other’s habits and preferences; they moved in tandem because of their past. What he couldn’t get was how Koyama and Nishikido always seemed to know where the other was; they moved together and around each other like water and oil, always almost colliding but managing to slide away smoothly at the last second.
Nishikido stayed with them for a while. They asked once, the first morning, what brought him there and he had looked at Koyama and then away before saying, “I feel like this is where I need to be.” Shige had thought it cryptic and weird but Koyama had looked at Nishikido thoughtfully. They fell into a routine. They would prepare breakfast together, Nishikido’s polite manners slowly falling away to allow him to gently ridicule Shige whenever he dropped a dish or burnt something. He never went out with Koyama to the river or marshland; he seemed content to work with Shige in the garden, after the late morning sun had burned off the thick fog and dried the dew, but he seemed to most like going for firewood. Shige complained about how he managed to find the driest pieces in the entire valley and the man would just smile a bit and pile it next to the fireplace. But he was always waiting, his eyes never far from the door and he had this uncanny knack of looking at it just before Shige heard the familiar shuffle and his name sung aloud and then Koyama would come in and Nishikido would finally leave the fire to stand next to him and help with dinner.
They never touched one another but Shige could see that the interest went both ways. Koyama would stay up late into the night sitting closer to the fire than Shige had ever seen him - he had to be uncomfortable - and talk with Nishikido. Shige, from their bed in the next room, could only hear a few distinct words sparking from Nishikido amongst the low murmur of Koyama’s. Then Koyama would come quietly to bed, wrapping his arms around Shige and nosing his hair until he was comfortable and fell asleep.
Shige hadn’t been jealous. There was nothing to be jealous of. Koyama’s affection for him had never lessened. What he and Koyama had wasn’t something that could be undone. But he really hadn’t been sure how to react to the overwhelming feeling of dread he’d had. He’d felt the tension building in Koyama, like water beyond a dam, and he waited to see how it would work out. The move was Koyama’s.
Nishikido’s laughter rang out when Shige, losing a fight with the ridiculously stubborn weed even he couldn’t get the earth to release, fell back on his ass. Distraction, that was his excuse.
“Shut up,” Shige muttered. “I’d like to see you do it.”
Nishikido marched up with a smirk and bent over the weed obscuring Shige’s view for a moment then straightened, clutching some faded green before he tossed it to the side. Shige frowned and inspected the spot. The ground was warm, he thought, but the weed was definitely gone.
“Thanks,” he said, grudgingly. He really wished he could put a finger on the problem.
When he did, it was too late. He climbed out of bed, unable to sleep, to join Koyama and Nishikido by the fire and he looked at the fire and saw that Ryo’s foot was in it. Suddenly awake, his eyes snapped up to Nishikido’s face, slow fire banking behind the small man’s eyes, just waiting to ignite, just as Koyama leaned slowly in to kiss him and Shige yelled.
“Don’t!”
Koyama snapped his head back, surprised, as Shige launched himself at Nishikido and yanked him back, pulling the man back against his chest from where he’d landed on his knees behind him.
“Shige…” Koyama trailed off, confused.
“Koyama, he’s a fire elemental!”
Koyama’s jaw dropped and he stared at Nishikido and Nishikido looked back and up at Shige.
“Is that a crime?”
He asked it bitterly; the question and tone justified because, Shige knew, sometimes it was.
Memories of flight, clinging to Koyama as they fled, angry townspeople chasing with burning torches and painful words and tears mingling with the rain on Koyama’s cheeks.
Shige looked at Koyama.
“Koyama is a water elemental,” he said quietly, and watched tears well up again in Koyama’s eyes.
He brings the rain.
Shige knew he should have made him leave, then; politely but firmly stood his ground and sent him on. But he had never been able to deny Koyama anything and the plaintive look in his lover’s eyes had shaken his resolve and he had let the man stay though none of them knew what to do.
The atmosphere was subdued, uncertainty tingeing every moment. Shige watched them dance around each other, not bringing up what was obviously between them, the tension thick enough to cut. Days of this and Shige didn’t know how much longer he could take it.
“Why don’t you just leave?” Shige asked him quietly as they worked in the garden, and Nishikido stiffened beside him. “Can’t you see how much you’re hurting him?”
“I can’t,” Nishikido whispered, and Shige looked over to see an agonized expression.
“Daaaaaaamniiiit!” Shige cursed at the sky, clenching his fists and putting the frustration of the last week into it.
Nishikido watched him blankly before turning back to his work.
That night Shige held Koyama hard against his chest as they lay in bed. He pressed kisses to Koyama’s temples and whispered against his hair, “Ask him to leave. He’ll go if you ask him. I can’t stand watching you hurt anymore. I promised you I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again.” Rain-streaked cheeks and sworn promises on mud-soaked knees.
Koyama’s laugh was bitter. “That’s a promise I never expected you to keep, Shige.”
Crushing pain in his chest and frustration welling up as he squeezed tighter.
Koyama broke first, two days later, lunging at Nishikido as they sat before the fire. Koyama didn’t want to touch him because it felt good but because he must, desperately grabbing at his arms and pulling him close, lips frantically seeking Nishikido’s and when he found them the heat was searing, sucking out his moisture and surrounding them with nearly-liquid air so thick it could drown. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t let go. When Nishikido forced him away, he was so parched he couldn’t even cry, racking sobs drawing nothing but red lines across his eyes. Shige stared dumbly on as Nishikido fetched Koyama a glass of water over and over until Koyama held up his hand, covering his mouth to hide the small hiccups that escaped. Nishikido hovered over him, hands clenching at his sides, mouth opening then closing when he realized he had nothing to say.
That’s when Shige broke, looking at their anguished faces and the tears that were only now starting to fill Koyama’s eyes, and he strode to Nishikido and fisted one hand in his shirt, bringing the other up to wrap behind his neck, pulling him abruptly against him and bringing their lips together with a crash. The kiss was bruising, crushing, and Nishikido sank to his knees, pulling Shige down with him. He released him, finally, noting the man’s swollen lips with satisfaction, a tiny act of aggression he could escape with before turning to Koyama. Koyama’s eyes were wide, confused, and Shige pulled him close and let him taste Nishikido on his own lips, Koyama clutching at his shirt and opening his mouth over Shige’s and licking his way inside.
He felt tentative hands on his arm and thigh and he hazily reached out to Nishikido, tearing away from Koyama’s mouth only long enough to have it claimed by Nishikido. He let them touch him, taste each other on him, mimicked their actions and let them feel what the other wanted to do, lost himself in their consuming desire, let them burn him up and wash him away until they were one and he thought that he might forgive fate just this once for filling him up to overflowing with another’s overriding love, one so different from the slow, gentle love he had known thus far. They collapsed onto the bed, a satisfied, boneless heap with Shige in the middle, Koyama whispering his love in Shige’s ear, and Shige felt the weight of a fulfilled promise and kissed them both before falling asleep.
Pairing: Koyama/Ryo/Shige
Rating: PG-13
Words: 2,090
Summary: “Shige had seen him first - a lonely figure trudging down the mountain into their little valley. And if he’d only known then what he was… he’d have moved mountains to keep him away. But even knowing that, how could he have known that Koyama would have fallen for him so hard, so fast, so irrevocably?”
Notes: I expected this to be longer, but I didn’t realize just how long it would have to be to fit my idea. So since I already have one really long AU going and another waiting to go, I didn’t want to be stuck with another monster and I’m just giving you this one piece. I would like to write in this ‘verse again in the future, though, so I hope you like it. :) ETA: fail!Tara is fail. Thanks so much to imifumei for going over this for me and offering moral support. :D She puts up with a lot from me, grammatically. XD
Shige had seen him first - a lonely figure trudging down the mountain into their little valley. And if he’d only known then what he was… he’d have moved mountains to keep him away. But even knowing that, how could he have known that Koyama would have fallen for him so hard, so fast, so irrevocably?
Shige worked in the garden, carefully tending to the plants as he watched the man slowly make his way to their home. The man had stopped at the far edge of the plot and watched Shige work until he straightened up and looked at the stranger, rubbing the back of an earth-covered hand over his forehead and nodding.
The man walked carefully between the rows, stopping a fair distance away and bowing slightly and Shige returned it.
“Been traveling long?” he asked, friendly.
The man nodded. “Weeks.”
Shige shifted his feet. “I guess you’re tired.” He looked off toward the setting sun. “Would like a place to stay.”
“If it wouldn’t be asking too much.”
Shige considered him a moment - smoky eyes with ash-colored smudges underneath, coal-black hair, small but wiry. He didn’t look threatening at the moment, just worn out and he knew Koyama would have a shit-fit if he turned the man away.
“All right. Come on in,” he said, and let the man pick up one of the baskets and follow him into his home.
They set the baskets down and Shige added another log to the fire and told the man he was going out to wash up. When he came back, the man was huddled close to the fire, like he couldn’t warm up.
“Cold?” he asked, lips quirked up and the man turned to regard him.
“This valley. Is it always so wet and cold?”
Shige nodded and then heard fumbling at the door. “Shiiiiigeeee,” he heard sing-songed before the door opened and Koyama stepped in.
“I’m home!” he said with a grin before his eyes shifted and he was pursing his lips thoughtfully at the stranger practically in his hearth. “Hello?”
Shige rushed over to take Koyama’s bundle and the man at the fire stood to face Koyama and bow.
“Ah, Koyama, this is… this is…”
“Nishikido Ryo,” the man said politely.
Koyama clucked his tongue. “Shige, didn’t you even ask his name?”
Shige scratched his neck and blushed a little. “I invited him in, isn’t that enough?” he asked defensively and frowned when laughter bubbled up out of Koyama.
“I’m Koyama Keiichiro, and this is Kato Shigeaki, people-person extraordinaire.”
“Hey!”
Koyama kept up a steady flow of chatter while they made dinner, Nishikido staying by the fire after they turned down his offer to help. They could tell the stranger was tired so they didn’t press him for conversation, but Shige couldn’t help but notice the way Nishikido kept watching Koyama’s every movement. Or the way Nishikido looked at the fried fish like it might hurt him.
“I… don’t like fish,” he said, staring at it and leaning back. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh!” Koyama said softly. “I’m sorry. I would have made something else. Let me go get something else to go with your rice.”
“No! No, please. The vegetables are fine. This is delicious. Thank you.”
Koyama eased back down onto the floor with a hesitant smile. “If you’re sure.”
Shige should have known it then. The signs were all there and he missed them. But fate was funny, sometimes, pulling strings to bring two people together that had no right to be forced to it. Shige and fate had a love/hate relationship. The only act of fate Shige was thankful for was Koyama’s finding him and the love they shared.
Nishikido slept on the floor next to the fire and Shige shook him awake in the morning to move him enough to start breakfast. Nishikido was quick to help and when Koyama woke up and took over for Shige, they moved around in the small kitchen like it had always been the two of them. Koyama and Shige had years of time together and they knew each other’s habits and preferences; they moved in tandem because of their past. What he couldn’t get was how Koyama and Nishikido always seemed to know where the other was; they moved together and around each other like water and oil, always almost colliding but managing to slide away smoothly at the last second.
Nishikido stayed with them for a while. They asked once, the first morning, what brought him there and he had looked at Koyama and then away before saying, “I feel like this is where I need to be.” Shige had thought it cryptic and weird but Koyama had looked at Nishikido thoughtfully. They fell into a routine. They would prepare breakfast together, Nishikido’s polite manners slowly falling away to allow him to gently ridicule Shige whenever he dropped a dish or burnt something. He never went out with Koyama to the river or marshland; he seemed content to work with Shige in the garden, after the late morning sun had burned off the thick fog and dried the dew, but he seemed to most like going for firewood. Shige complained about how he managed to find the driest pieces in the entire valley and the man would just smile a bit and pile it next to the fireplace. But he was always waiting, his eyes never far from the door and he had this uncanny knack of looking at it just before Shige heard the familiar shuffle and his name sung aloud and then Koyama would come in and Nishikido would finally leave the fire to stand next to him and help with dinner.
They never touched one another but Shige could see that the interest went both ways. Koyama would stay up late into the night sitting closer to the fire than Shige had ever seen him - he had to be uncomfortable - and talk with Nishikido. Shige, from their bed in the next room, could only hear a few distinct words sparking from Nishikido amongst the low murmur of Koyama’s. Then Koyama would come quietly to bed, wrapping his arms around Shige and nosing his hair until he was comfortable and fell asleep.
Shige hadn’t been jealous. There was nothing to be jealous of. Koyama’s affection for him had never lessened. What he and Koyama had wasn’t something that could be undone. But he really hadn’t been sure how to react to the overwhelming feeling of dread he’d had. He’d felt the tension building in Koyama, like water beyond a dam, and he waited to see how it would work out. The move was Koyama’s.
Nishikido’s laughter rang out when Shige, losing a fight with the ridiculously stubborn weed even he couldn’t get the earth to release, fell back on his ass. Distraction, that was his excuse.
“Shut up,” Shige muttered. “I’d like to see you do it.”
Nishikido marched up with a smirk and bent over the weed obscuring Shige’s view for a moment then straightened, clutching some faded green before he tossed it to the side. Shige frowned and inspected the spot. The ground was warm, he thought, but the weed was definitely gone.
“Thanks,” he said, grudgingly. He really wished he could put a finger on the problem.
When he did, it was too late. He climbed out of bed, unable to sleep, to join Koyama and Nishikido by the fire and he looked at the fire and saw that Ryo’s foot was in it. Suddenly awake, his eyes snapped up to Nishikido’s face, slow fire banking behind the small man’s eyes, just waiting to ignite, just as Koyama leaned slowly in to kiss him and Shige yelled.
“Don’t!”
Koyama snapped his head back, surprised, as Shige launched himself at Nishikido and yanked him back, pulling the man back against his chest from where he’d landed on his knees behind him.
“Shige…” Koyama trailed off, confused.
“Koyama, he’s a fire elemental!”
Koyama’s jaw dropped and he stared at Nishikido and Nishikido looked back and up at Shige.
“Is that a crime?”
He asked it bitterly; the question and tone justified because, Shige knew, sometimes it was.
Memories of flight, clinging to Koyama as they fled, angry townspeople chasing with burning torches and painful words and tears mingling with the rain on Koyama’s cheeks.
Shige looked at Koyama.
“Koyama is a water elemental,” he said quietly, and watched tears well up again in Koyama’s eyes.
He brings the rain.
Shige knew he should have made him leave, then; politely but firmly stood his ground and sent him on. But he had never been able to deny Koyama anything and the plaintive look in his lover’s eyes had shaken his resolve and he had let the man stay though none of them knew what to do.
The atmosphere was subdued, uncertainty tingeing every moment. Shige watched them dance around each other, not bringing up what was obviously between them, the tension thick enough to cut. Days of this and Shige didn’t know how much longer he could take it.
“Why don’t you just leave?” Shige asked him quietly as they worked in the garden, and Nishikido stiffened beside him. “Can’t you see how much you’re hurting him?”
“I can’t,” Nishikido whispered, and Shige looked over to see an agonized expression.
“Daaaaaaamniiiit!” Shige cursed at the sky, clenching his fists and putting the frustration of the last week into it.
Nishikido watched him blankly before turning back to his work.
That night Shige held Koyama hard against his chest as they lay in bed. He pressed kisses to Koyama’s temples and whispered against his hair, “Ask him to leave. He’ll go if you ask him. I can’t stand watching you hurt anymore. I promised you I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again.” Rain-streaked cheeks and sworn promises on mud-soaked knees.
Koyama’s laugh was bitter. “That’s a promise I never expected you to keep, Shige.”
Crushing pain in his chest and frustration welling up as he squeezed tighter.
Koyama broke first, two days later, lunging at Nishikido as they sat before the fire. Koyama didn’t want to touch him because it felt good but because he must, desperately grabbing at his arms and pulling him close, lips frantically seeking Nishikido’s and when he found them the heat was searing, sucking out his moisture and surrounding them with nearly-liquid air so thick it could drown. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t let go. When Nishikido forced him away, he was so parched he couldn’t even cry, racking sobs drawing nothing but red lines across his eyes. Shige stared dumbly on as Nishikido fetched Koyama a glass of water over and over until Koyama held up his hand, covering his mouth to hide the small hiccups that escaped. Nishikido hovered over him, hands clenching at his sides, mouth opening then closing when he realized he had nothing to say.
That’s when Shige broke, looking at their anguished faces and the tears that were only now starting to fill Koyama’s eyes, and he strode to Nishikido and fisted one hand in his shirt, bringing the other up to wrap behind his neck, pulling him abruptly against him and bringing their lips together with a crash. The kiss was bruising, crushing, and Nishikido sank to his knees, pulling Shige down with him. He released him, finally, noting the man’s swollen lips with satisfaction, a tiny act of aggression he could escape with before turning to Koyama. Koyama’s eyes were wide, confused, and Shige pulled him close and let him taste Nishikido on his own lips, Koyama clutching at his shirt and opening his mouth over Shige’s and licking his way inside.
He felt tentative hands on his arm and thigh and he hazily reached out to Nishikido, tearing away from Koyama’s mouth only long enough to have it claimed by Nishikido. He let them touch him, taste each other on him, mimicked their actions and let them feel what the other wanted to do, lost himself in their consuming desire, let them burn him up and wash him away until they were one and he thought that he might forgive fate just this once for filling him up to overflowing with another’s overriding love, one so different from the slow, gentle love he had known thus far. They collapsed onto the bed, a satisfied, boneless heap with Shige in the middle, Koyama whispering his love in Shige’s ear, and Shige felt the weight of a fulfilled promise and kissed them both before falling asleep.