[YC] Solving Puzzles With Sticking Plasters
Title: Solving Puzzles With Sticking Plasters
Series: Yuukan Club
Pairing: Seishiro/Miroku
Rating: PG
Word count: Approx. 2,350
Disclaimer: Not mine, damnit.
Summary: Seishiro may be a genius, but there are some things he just can't figure out.
Author's Note: Based on the drama only, as I have not read the manga. Takes place during episode 10, so don't read if you don't want to be spoiled.
valmora has written a couple of lovely Yukan Club snippets, and as I'm partially responsible for giving her a bad case of YC fever, I felt I should do the honourable thing and write one of my own.
Solving Puzzles With Sticking Plasters
Kikumasamune Seishiro, like his forebears, is a learned man. His life has been spent in the acquisition of knowledge, because knowledge is power and understanding others is the key to controlling them. Nevertheless, Seishiro is wise enough to accept that there are things he simply can't explain - mysteries that defy all known logic. Kinna-san's ghost, for example, or Yuri's appetite.
One such puzzle, which Seishiro would very much like to solve, is why his teenage hormones have decreed that he should develop an attraction to Shochikubai Miroku.
Seishiro prefers neat, organised people with tidy minds and quiet discipline - Noriko, for instance - and Miroku possesses none of these qualities. He's smart (though not in Seishiro's league) but his thought processes result from a combination of gut instinct and fierce emotion, and his actions tend to emanate more from his heart than his head.
So when Miroku agrees to be placed under house arrest, says it's the safest thing to do and that they should leave the investigation up to the police, Seishiro knows it's something more than Miroku admitting that this time, he might be in over his head. On his own account, Miroku is rarely concerned with caution. He may not be rash to the point of utter stupidity but he's no shrinking violet, either.
Naturally, Seishiro doesn't believe for one moment that Miroku will be able to stay home and keep himself out of trouble, which is why he puts a tracker on his bike. There are no arguments from the others. Even Bido, not known for his bravery at the best of times, wants to follow Miroku and help to rescue him from the difficulties in which he will doubtless find himself.
"Difficulties", in this case, being a brawl with the gang responsible for providing Miroku's unwanted Christmas gift. Seishiro appreciates the usefulness of guns, but he also feels that there is no honour in firing one unless it is to protect someone else - a man who relies solely on guns is a man with no strength of his own. Miroku fired at Bido in play only because he believed the gun in his hand to be a toy; therefore Miroku's strength and honour, other attributes that Seishiro prizes, remain indisputable.
His knack for attracting trouble, sadly, is also indisputable. It comes as no surprise to Seishiro that Miroku is on the floor - battered, bleeding, and badly in need of a saviour.
What *does* come as a surprise to Seishiro is the rage that flares white-hot beneath his neatly-pressed shirt and pristine jumper. He expects anger, of course - it is natural to be irate over the beating of a friend - but such urgent, barely-suppressed fury is quite uncommon. It scalds him, searing the edges of his common sense and forcing him to lock his emotions down tightly in order to maintain control.
Training and discipline win out, but only just, and Seishiro's movements are more violent than usual. He shakes and he sneers and when he makes his quiet, remarkably restrained demand that Miroku be returned to him, even his other friends are intimidated. The gang leader is not, and Seishiro takes great pleasure in silencing his laughter.
When the last man falls, Seishiro spends a second working out the kinks and rushes to Miroku's side. He's the practical one, the educated one, yet every scrap of medical knowledge he possesses escapes him as he shakes Miroku desperately, willing him to wake up. He'd been standing there, close enough to watch Miroku pass out, had been able to see for himself that the injuries weren't life-threatening...yet he calls Miroku's name as though he's moments away from death, and Seishiro is the only one who can pull him free of that cold, black abyss.
He might well have done, given how shaken Miroku is when he regains consciousness. Seishiro isn't used to seeing fear in Miroku's eyes. Fear...and uncertainty, a second where Miroku isn't sure where he is, who he is, or what's happened to him. Or worse, what will happen to him now.
But when his eyes uncloud and he knows he's with friends, it's Seishiro he latches onto for an explanation, for reassurance, because Seishiro always has the answers and if Seishiro is his usual calm self, then everything must be all right.
It isn't, of course. They're surrounded by unconscious thugs, with the possibility of more arriving at any second, and no one really wants to have to fight their way to the door. Seishiro twists his hands, clenching and unclenching his fingers less from impatience than from a need to grip Miroku's leather-jacketed shoulder and tell him that he shouldn't go running off by himself. Not that they can't track him, but that's not the point. What if they're too late next time? What if Seishiro makes it to the scene just in time to identify the body?
But Miroku starts talking, asking what they're doing there, so Seishiro does his best to swallow his agitation and give his friend the answers he wants. He can't stop smiling, though; his relief has to come through somehow. He does eventually clasp Miroku's shoulder, cut off his speech about wanting to protect his friends and substitute one of his own. Though he includes the rest of Yukan Club with a look, he rounds off with a personal touch. Miroku probably doesn't appreciate having his injury flicked - the snap sounds painful and he calls Seishiro an idiot - but he manages a weak laugh anyway.
It's difficult to take Miroku down for good, and although he doesn't need to put up a front for his friends, it's plain that he wants to be strong for them. He's the daredevil of Yukan Club...but he's also the heart.
It's with Seishiro's hand on his shoulder and Seishiro's smile in his line of sight that Miroku is able to relax, closing his eyes as if settling down to sleep, but the timing is bad. There are angry voices in the corridor, which means whether Miroku's able to move or not, they're getting out of there. Although Bido helps, it is Seishiro who bears most of the burden. He doesn't begrudge Miroku's weight in the slightest, not when he knows full well that Miroku would drain his strength to the dregs and further besides to carry a friend in need.
They regroup at the Kenbishi residence so Miroku can be treated - Yuri's parents are the least likely to be concerned about them breaking house arrest. More to the point, they trust Seishiro to be in control of the situation, and would not dream of suggesting that he go home and leave the investigation to people who have actually finished high school.
The others leave them alone. Noriko goes to wash her hands multiple times with antibacterial soap, Yuri is having a late midnight snack - for ten people - and Bido and Karen are fixing themselves up. Apparently, Karen broke a nail trying to drag Bido out from the doorway, and Bido's hair was completely ruined during the fight. Or so he says. Even to a man with Seishiro's powers of observation, the difference is unnoticeable.
It is a measure of how Miroku's recent brush with death has affected him that he doesn't protest when Seishiro begins to wipe the blood from his mouth. He winces, hissing sharply as antiseptic meets open wounds, but makes no move to take over the task himself.
It would make Seishiro feel better if Miroku struggled or complained, because at least that would be consistent with his normal behaviour. This subdued, broken state is unnatural. Miroku has been threatened with guns before - has even been shot, though the bullet didn't penetrate the vest - but this is the first time he's been alone. Yukan Club always work as a team, everyone playing their parts, and no matter what risks they take they can always count on the others to back them up.
Not this time. Miroku had no way of knowing that he'd been tracked, no hope of assistance and no friendly faces to witness his final moments.
Seishiro speculates that perhaps this is the reason for Miroku's silence. There's nothing he can say that he hasn't already said, about friendship and protection and how even if Miroku doesn't tell anyone what he's planning, his friends will be there to help him anyway.
So he doesn't try. Miroku's not really paying attention in any case, locked somewhere inside his own head to mull over his thoughts; Seishiro's words would be only so much wasted air. It's easier to keep quiet now that his anger has dissipated, ire mellowed by time and a lack of available targets.
He settles for concentrating on his duty, brushing Miroku's bangs aside to tend the wound underneath. Bleeding begins afresh as he cleans, so Seishiro presses the pad against Miroku's temple to staunch the flow of blood.
The pressure is a wake-up call. Miroku opens pained, dark eyes and bites down on his lip - a mistake, since that, too, is injured. Seishiro passes him a plaster but Miroku keeps missing as he tries to peel it apart. His hands are held rigidly in an effort to stop them shaking, but just when he manages to get a nail under one edge, a tremor forces it away. He hands it back to Seishiro with a disgusted look.
Seishiro's talented but he can only do so many things at once. Bandaging Miroku's head takes precedence. It will look a little strange, he supposes, but Miroku can live with wearing a white band under his bangs for a while. Unlike Bido, Miroku is free from vanity - concerning his appearance, anyway - and Seishiro likes that about him. For one thing, it makes him a much better fighter. It also helps that Miroku is not subject to Bido's - endearing in a pathetic sort of way - cowardice.
But that doesn't mean Miroku's invulnerable. None of them are. Beneath the biker leathers and casual, laid-back attitude Miroku's as mortal as any of them, and when he's bruised and bleeding like this it's obvious that he's doing himself even more damage on the inside. Wondering how he could've slipped up and brought his friends into this mess, because even though he appreciates that they want to protect him as much as he wants to protect them, he feels that somehow, this is his problem and he should be the one to resolve it.
Seishiro understands this, even if he doesn't agree. While Miroku's sense of responsibility occasionally aims him in odd directions, it is more than worthy of respect.
It's still dark outside; sleep might be unattainable but Seishiro plans to insist they try anyway. They'll get nowhere if they're all exhausted. The USB stick Miroku holds in his unbandaged hand guarantees they'll need their faculties in the morning. He's managed to hang onto it till now, so Seishiro doesn't confiscate it for safekeeping.
No matter how overwhelming the odds, at whatever the cost to himself, Miroku always somehow manages to pull off a miracle, coming up trumps at the last minute and making it look completely spontaneous. Of course, sometimes that miracle involves producing his friends at just the right moment.
Because he trusts them. If he didn't, he wouldn't be letting Seishiro place a plaster by his lips, covering the cut with sure, steady hands. Seishiro's touch is always professional, whatever he does, but now he tries to make it gentle too. He skims his fingers lightly over Miroku's skin, feeling the down as he smoothes the strip of fabric into place with his thumb. As a consequence of the beating, the area is markedly tender and that makes the action all the more intimate.
The puffs of warm air against Seishiro's hand cease - Miroku is holding his breath. Seishiro smoothes the plaster one final time, letting his thumb graze the edge of Miroku's lips, then draws back and tells him that they're finished and he should get some rest.
A dazed-looking Miroku nods and starts to breathe again. He mumbles his thanks, then offers Seishiro an awkward half-smile, lopsided where the plaster pulls but sincere nonetheless. Then he thanks him again, and Seishiro knows that this time, it's not his skills as a healer that he's being thanked for.
Seishiro would do as much for any of his friends, but he can't help wondering if he would feel quite the same surge of protective fury if it had been Bido being attacked, for example. Not that he would have gotten himself into such a situation in the first place - that would be far more likely for the impetuous Yuri.
But Noriko... If Noriko had been the one slumped unconscious against the wall, Seishiro could not have guaranteed the lives of her attackers, save for her inevitable reproach. But for all the strength that her delicate beauty conceals, Noriko is simply not able to - and should not have to - deal with such violent matters, while Miroku ordinarily acquits himself well.
He's done so tonight, and that USB stick full of vital evidence is proof. But tonight has also seen Miroku at his most vulnerable. He tries not to show it, tries to protect his friends by not letting them see that he needs their help. It doesn't work, because whether Miroku likes it or not, they *are* involved, and they'll do anything for him.
Because he'll do anything for them.
Miroku is easy to predict; anyone who knows him at all would know where to strike to hurt. He forms attachments easily - falls for people, places, animals and precious memories, and he'll risk himself to protect them with everything he has. It is both a weakness and an incredible strength, this quality, and it makes of Miroku a most devoted and loyal friend.
Perhaps that's why Seishiro likes him so much. One reason out of many. Seishiro considers his list and thinks that perhaps his feelings are not such a puzzle after all.
Series: Yuukan Club
Pairing: Seishiro/Miroku
Rating: PG
Word count: Approx. 2,350
Disclaimer: Not mine, damnit.
Summary: Seishiro may be a genius, but there are some things he just can't figure out.
Author's Note: Based on the drama only, as I have not read the manga. Takes place during episode 10, so don't read if you don't want to be spoiled.
valmora has written a couple of lovely Yukan Club snippets, and as I'm partially responsible for giving her a bad case of YC fever, I felt I should do the honourable thing and write one of my own.
Solving Puzzles With Sticking Plasters
Kikumasamune Seishiro, like his forebears, is a learned man. His life has been spent in the acquisition of knowledge, because knowledge is power and understanding others is the key to controlling them. Nevertheless, Seishiro is wise enough to accept that there are things he simply can't explain - mysteries that defy all known logic. Kinna-san's ghost, for example, or Yuri's appetite.
One such puzzle, which Seishiro would very much like to solve, is why his teenage hormones have decreed that he should develop an attraction to Shochikubai Miroku.
Seishiro prefers neat, organised people with tidy minds and quiet discipline - Noriko, for instance - and Miroku possesses none of these qualities. He's smart (though not in Seishiro's league) but his thought processes result from a combination of gut instinct and fierce emotion, and his actions tend to emanate more from his heart than his head.
So when Miroku agrees to be placed under house arrest, says it's the safest thing to do and that they should leave the investigation up to the police, Seishiro knows it's something more than Miroku admitting that this time, he might be in over his head. On his own account, Miroku is rarely concerned with caution. He may not be rash to the point of utter stupidity but he's no shrinking violet, either.
Naturally, Seishiro doesn't believe for one moment that Miroku will be able to stay home and keep himself out of trouble, which is why he puts a tracker on his bike. There are no arguments from the others. Even Bido, not known for his bravery at the best of times, wants to follow Miroku and help to rescue him from the difficulties in which he will doubtless find himself.
"Difficulties", in this case, being a brawl with the gang responsible for providing Miroku's unwanted Christmas gift. Seishiro appreciates the usefulness of guns, but he also feels that there is no honour in firing one unless it is to protect someone else - a man who relies solely on guns is a man with no strength of his own. Miroku fired at Bido in play only because he believed the gun in his hand to be a toy; therefore Miroku's strength and honour, other attributes that Seishiro prizes, remain indisputable.
His knack for attracting trouble, sadly, is also indisputable. It comes as no surprise to Seishiro that Miroku is on the floor - battered, bleeding, and badly in need of a saviour.
What *does* come as a surprise to Seishiro is the rage that flares white-hot beneath his neatly-pressed shirt and pristine jumper. He expects anger, of course - it is natural to be irate over the beating of a friend - but such urgent, barely-suppressed fury is quite uncommon. It scalds him, searing the edges of his common sense and forcing him to lock his emotions down tightly in order to maintain control.
Training and discipline win out, but only just, and Seishiro's movements are more violent than usual. He shakes and he sneers and when he makes his quiet, remarkably restrained demand that Miroku be returned to him, even his other friends are intimidated. The gang leader is not, and Seishiro takes great pleasure in silencing his laughter.
When the last man falls, Seishiro spends a second working out the kinks and rushes to Miroku's side. He's the practical one, the educated one, yet every scrap of medical knowledge he possesses escapes him as he shakes Miroku desperately, willing him to wake up. He'd been standing there, close enough to watch Miroku pass out, had been able to see for himself that the injuries weren't life-threatening...yet he calls Miroku's name as though he's moments away from death, and Seishiro is the only one who can pull him free of that cold, black abyss.
He might well have done, given how shaken Miroku is when he regains consciousness. Seishiro isn't used to seeing fear in Miroku's eyes. Fear...and uncertainty, a second where Miroku isn't sure where he is, who he is, or what's happened to him. Or worse, what will happen to him now.
But when his eyes uncloud and he knows he's with friends, it's Seishiro he latches onto for an explanation, for reassurance, because Seishiro always has the answers and if Seishiro is his usual calm self, then everything must be all right.
It isn't, of course. They're surrounded by unconscious thugs, with the possibility of more arriving at any second, and no one really wants to have to fight their way to the door. Seishiro twists his hands, clenching and unclenching his fingers less from impatience than from a need to grip Miroku's leather-jacketed shoulder and tell him that he shouldn't go running off by himself. Not that they can't track him, but that's not the point. What if they're too late next time? What if Seishiro makes it to the scene just in time to identify the body?
But Miroku starts talking, asking what they're doing there, so Seishiro does his best to swallow his agitation and give his friend the answers he wants. He can't stop smiling, though; his relief has to come through somehow. He does eventually clasp Miroku's shoulder, cut off his speech about wanting to protect his friends and substitute one of his own. Though he includes the rest of Yukan Club with a look, he rounds off with a personal touch. Miroku probably doesn't appreciate having his injury flicked - the snap sounds painful and he calls Seishiro an idiot - but he manages a weak laugh anyway.
It's difficult to take Miroku down for good, and although he doesn't need to put up a front for his friends, it's plain that he wants to be strong for them. He's the daredevil of Yukan Club...but he's also the heart.
It's with Seishiro's hand on his shoulder and Seishiro's smile in his line of sight that Miroku is able to relax, closing his eyes as if settling down to sleep, but the timing is bad. There are angry voices in the corridor, which means whether Miroku's able to move or not, they're getting out of there. Although Bido helps, it is Seishiro who bears most of the burden. He doesn't begrudge Miroku's weight in the slightest, not when he knows full well that Miroku would drain his strength to the dregs and further besides to carry a friend in need.
They regroup at the Kenbishi residence so Miroku can be treated - Yuri's parents are the least likely to be concerned about them breaking house arrest. More to the point, they trust Seishiro to be in control of the situation, and would not dream of suggesting that he go home and leave the investigation to people who have actually finished high school.
The others leave them alone. Noriko goes to wash her hands multiple times with antibacterial soap, Yuri is having a late midnight snack - for ten people - and Bido and Karen are fixing themselves up. Apparently, Karen broke a nail trying to drag Bido out from the doorway, and Bido's hair was completely ruined during the fight. Or so he says. Even to a man with Seishiro's powers of observation, the difference is unnoticeable.
It is a measure of how Miroku's recent brush with death has affected him that he doesn't protest when Seishiro begins to wipe the blood from his mouth. He winces, hissing sharply as antiseptic meets open wounds, but makes no move to take over the task himself.
It would make Seishiro feel better if Miroku struggled or complained, because at least that would be consistent with his normal behaviour. This subdued, broken state is unnatural. Miroku has been threatened with guns before - has even been shot, though the bullet didn't penetrate the vest - but this is the first time he's been alone. Yukan Club always work as a team, everyone playing their parts, and no matter what risks they take they can always count on the others to back them up.
Not this time. Miroku had no way of knowing that he'd been tracked, no hope of assistance and no friendly faces to witness his final moments.
Seishiro speculates that perhaps this is the reason for Miroku's silence. There's nothing he can say that he hasn't already said, about friendship and protection and how even if Miroku doesn't tell anyone what he's planning, his friends will be there to help him anyway.
So he doesn't try. Miroku's not really paying attention in any case, locked somewhere inside his own head to mull over his thoughts; Seishiro's words would be only so much wasted air. It's easier to keep quiet now that his anger has dissipated, ire mellowed by time and a lack of available targets.
He settles for concentrating on his duty, brushing Miroku's bangs aside to tend the wound underneath. Bleeding begins afresh as he cleans, so Seishiro presses the pad against Miroku's temple to staunch the flow of blood.
The pressure is a wake-up call. Miroku opens pained, dark eyes and bites down on his lip - a mistake, since that, too, is injured. Seishiro passes him a plaster but Miroku keeps missing as he tries to peel it apart. His hands are held rigidly in an effort to stop them shaking, but just when he manages to get a nail under one edge, a tremor forces it away. He hands it back to Seishiro with a disgusted look.
Seishiro's talented but he can only do so many things at once. Bandaging Miroku's head takes precedence. It will look a little strange, he supposes, but Miroku can live with wearing a white band under his bangs for a while. Unlike Bido, Miroku is free from vanity - concerning his appearance, anyway - and Seishiro likes that about him. For one thing, it makes him a much better fighter. It also helps that Miroku is not subject to Bido's - endearing in a pathetic sort of way - cowardice.
But that doesn't mean Miroku's invulnerable. None of them are. Beneath the biker leathers and casual, laid-back attitude Miroku's as mortal as any of them, and when he's bruised and bleeding like this it's obvious that he's doing himself even more damage on the inside. Wondering how he could've slipped up and brought his friends into this mess, because even though he appreciates that they want to protect him as much as he wants to protect them, he feels that somehow, this is his problem and he should be the one to resolve it.
Seishiro understands this, even if he doesn't agree. While Miroku's sense of responsibility occasionally aims him in odd directions, it is more than worthy of respect.
It's still dark outside; sleep might be unattainable but Seishiro plans to insist they try anyway. They'll get nowhere if they're all exhausted. The USB stick Miroku holds in his unbandaged hand guarantees they'll need their faculties in the morning. He's managed to hang onto it till now, so Seishiro doesn't confiscate it for safekeeping.
No matter how overwhelming the odds, at whatever the cost to himself, Miroku always somehow manages to pull off a miracle, coming up trumps at the last minute and making it look completely spontaneous. Of course, sometimes that miracle involves producing his friends at just the right moment.
Because he trusts them. If he didn't, he wouldn't be letting Seishiro place a plaster by his lips, covering the cut with sure, steady hands. Seishiro's touch is always professional, whatever he does, but now he tries to make it gentle too. He skims his fingers lightly over Miroku's skin, feeling the down as he smoothes the strip of fabric into place with his thumb. As a consequence of the beating, the area is markedly tender and that makes the action all the more intimate.
The puffs of warm air against Seishiro's hand cease - Miroku is holding his breath. Seishiro smoothes the plaster one final time, letting his thumb graze the edge of Miroku's lips, then draws back and tells him that they're finished and he should get some rest.
A dazed-looking Miroku nods and starts to breathe again. He mumbles his thanks, then offers Seishiro an awkward half-smile, lopsided where the plaster pulls but sincere nonetheless. Then he thanks him again, and Seishiro knows that this time, it's not his skills as a healer that he's being thanked for.
Seishiro would do as much for any of his friends, but he can't help wondering if he would feel quite the same surge of protective fury if it had been Bido being attacked, for example. Not that he would have gotten himself into such a situation in the first place - that would be far more likely for the impetuous Yuri.
But Noriko... If Noriko had been the one slumped unconscious against the wall, Seishiro could not have guaranteed the lives of her attackers, save for her inevitable reproach. But for all the strength that her delicate beauty conceals, Noriko is simply not able to - and should not have to - deal with such violent matters, while Miroku ordinarily acquits himself well.
He's done so tonight, and that USB stick full of vital evidence is proof. But tonight has also seen Miroku at his most vulnerable. He tries not to show it, tries to protect his friends by not letting them see that he needs their help. It doesn't work, because whether Miroku likes it or not, they *are* involved, and they'll do anything for him.
Because he'll do anything for them.
Miroku is easy to predict; anyone who knows him at all would know where to strike to hurt. He forms attachments easily - falls for people, places, animals and precious memories, and he'll risk himself to protect them with everything he has. It is both a weakness and an incredible strength, this quality, and it makes of Miroku a most devoted and loyal friend.
Perhaps that's why Seishiro likes him so much. One reason out of many. Seishiro considers his list and thinks that perhaps his feelings are not such a puzzle after all.