( imagined you saw me ) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
imaginedyou) wrote2007-04-22 05:01 pm
imaginedyou) wrote2007-04-22 05:01 pm
Purgatory Ficlets [Yukimura, Tezuka, Niou, Yagyuu, Yuuta, Kirihara, Sanada, Marui, Fuji]
Four 'drabbles', set in ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
clubpurgatory!universe, I suppose. After all, Cyn said it was mostly my idea (I don't remember, to be able to argue!) and so I get to play with the characters in whatever positions I like. I mean PROFESSIONALLY.
Featuring; club manager!Yukimura, assistant manager!Tezuka, singer!Niou, singer!Yagyuu, aspiring dj!Yuuta, waiter!Kirihara, promotor!Sanada, bartender!Marui, and Fujiwho just hangs around and sleeps with people.
Links are the same fics, they just link back to a locked entry where they were originally posted. For my reference I guess.
-
( Niou vs. Yagyuu, Marui 222 Words. )
-
"Your fans wouldn't even notice it wasn't you on the stage." Yagyuu says. It sounds almost like a sneer, except that he would not give into that satisfaction in front of someone like Niou. "You're the kind of person who could be easily replaced. Even I could impersonate you, and nobody would know."
Perhaps he has gone too far and said too much, but Niou is Niou, and that's reason enough. Niou himself looks torn between outright denial, and second thoughts. For once he is the one to consider before he speaks.
"That works both ways you know," Niou says eventually, the lilt of his voice rising higher and mightier. "They might not realise it isn't you, either."
"I'm willing to take that risk in order to prove you wrong." Yagyuu says.
-
The next day, Marui takes the ten thousand yen that Niou slides across the top of the bar in addition to paying for his drinks, slips it silently into his shirt pocket, and lets it nestle alongside the ten thousand yen Yagyuu gave him earlier in the afternoon.
He can't help but think how coordinated they are, but the thought flitters away easily as he leans across the counter-top and watches the stage thoughtfully, wondering what the bet is about this time. And how he will know who has won.
-
( Yuuta, Fuji(/)Yukimura 360 Words. )
-
The more Yuuta learns about the club, the more he seals his lips and insists to himself that he doesn't want to know why his brother started coming in the first place.
Sometimes he sees deals going down in darkened corners, or between customers at the bar. Sometimes he sees hands straying under tables, and people far too inhibited, even with the number of empty glasses in front of them. Men and women alike, he sees.
He ducks his head down and helps himself to another cup of water from out of the machine in the back. He never drinks anything offered to him from the bar, not after the things he finds himself a spectator of every day. He tells everyone that alcohol is bad for his voice, that he can't do his set effectively while drinking it.
His brother has no such issues with it.
-
The more Yuuta learns about the club owner, Yukimura, the less he actually knows. He can't figure out how he could have gotten a job without so much as being glanced at, let alone an interview of some sort. He thinks perhaps his brother got hold of some of Yuuta's mixes for Yukimura to listen to, except, except that Yuuta has never made any discs.
One time, he asks Syuusuke about the third floor, figuring that his brother has been a patron of the club for so long, he must know something.
"You can use the private rooms too, if you just ask nicely," he says, and smiles in a way Yuuta isn't familiar with, and doesn't want to be in the future, either.
One time, he sees his brother and Yukimura sharing drinks, standing at the end of the bar together, talking quietly, and laughing loud. He sees his brother's loose shirt skimming over his stomach, he sees Yukimura's string of keys peeking out from under his jacket, he sees the hand that curls around Yukimura's shoulder when his brother laughs and needs something to hold on to.
Yuuta picks up his headphones with trembling fingers and tests the equipment before his set before his mind can even begin to connect the dots.
-
( Sanada, Yukimura, Akaya 242 Words. )
-
Akaya is something different entirely.
When he enters Yukimura's office, Sanada can't help but glance up disapprovingly at the way Kirihara puts down the tray just a little too hard, enough for it to clatter on the desk. His sullen glare says silently that he shouldn't be there, he shouldn't be the one climbing the stairs over and over again just so Yukimura can have his drink the way he likes it.
Yukimura smiles absently like he has no idea what Kirihara is thinking, picks up his glass with a deceptively casual grip, and waves him away.
"Why do you suffer him?" Sanada asks, tucking his own copies of the prototype flyers away in his briefcase and shutting it firmly.
"Because I know his story," Yukimura replies, presses a button. "Marui, send Akaya up with the same again. And some snacks."
Sanada turns his eyes away from Yukimura's face, from the look that kills all further questions.
"So," he says, clearing his throat and pressing fingertips to the middle flyer, the one in dark blue, "I think this design is effective in giving off the right atmosphere."
Yukimura sinks into the business discussion, and betrays just a hint of a smile when Akaya storms in again minutes later, gripping his tray so hard his knuckles are white.
Sanada says absolutely nothing, not even when Kirihara has almost pulled the door closed behind him and mutters, purposely loudly, "I could do that job.".
-
( Tezuka, Yukimura 225 Words )
-
Yukimura does not make a habit of being late; it gives off a bad impression. He simply enjoys making Tezuka squirm, whether he himself thinks he does or not.
He is sitting at the bar, orange juice in hand, when Niou slips through the doorway looking warm, full, fuzzy, awake, aware and glittering all at the same time.
A moment later, Yukimura steps out of the same doorway, adjusting his sleeve and fiddling with his shirt button.
It doesn't take a scientist, Tezuka thinks to himself sourly. Yukimura sits down opposite him and the boy behind the bar rushes to fix him a drink before he can ask.
He refuses to dignify Yukimura's actions with words, and he definitely does not need to ask questions or enquire any further into events. He just gives his most effective disapproving look. Even that doesn't seem to work on Yukimura. He just shrugs.
"How do you think most of the staff got on the payroll?" He asks pleasantly.
"I didn't," Tezuka replies. He takes a modest sip of his drink.
"Well no," Yukimura agrees easily, "not everyone was directly involved in their own hiring. But you have to wonder, don't you, who slept with me in order for me to bring you here?"
Tezuka can't even begin to entertain the idea that that might not have been a joke.
-
clubpurgatory!universe, I suppose. After all, Cyn said it was mostly my idea (I don't remember, to be able to argue!) and so I get to play with the characters in whatever positions I like. I mean PROFESSIONALLY. Featuring; club manager!Yukimura, assistant manager!Tezuka, singer!Niou, singer!Yagyuu, aspiring dj!Yuuta, waiter!Kirihara, promotor!Sanada, bartender!Marui, and Fuji
Links are the same fics, they just link back to a locked entry where they were originally posted. For my reference I guess.
-
( Niou vs. Yagyuu, Marui 222 Words. )
-
"Your fans wouldn't even notice it wasn't you on the stage." Yagyuu says. It sounds almost like a sneer, except that he would not give into that satisfaction in front of someone like Niou. "You're the kind of person who could be easily replaced. Even I could impersonate you, and nobody would know."
Perhaps he has gone too far and said too much, but Niou is Niou, and that's reason enough. Niou himself looks torn between outright denial, and second thoughts. For once he is the one to consider before he speaks.
"That works both ways you know," Niou says eventually, the lilt of his voice rising higher and mightier. "They might not realise it isn't you, either."
"I'm willing to take that risk in order to prove you wrong." Yagyuu says.
-
The next day, Marui takes the ten thousand yen that Niou slides across the top of the bar in addition to paying for his drinks, slips it silently into his shirt pocket, and lets it nestle alongside the ten thousand yen Yagyuu gave him earlier in the afternoon.
He can't help but think how coordinated they are, but the thought flitters away easily as he leans across the counter-top and watches the stage thoughtfully, wondering what the bet is about this time. And how he will know who has won.
-
( Yuuta, Fuji(/)Yukimura 360 Words. )
-
The more Yuuta learns about the club, the more he seals his lips and insists to himself that he doesn't want to know why his brother started coming in the first place.
Sometimes he sees deals going down in darkened corners, or between customers at the bar. Sometimes he sees hands straying under tables, and people far too inhibited, even with the number of empty glasses in front of them. Men and women alike, he sees.
He ducks his head down and helps himself to another cup of water from out of the machine in the back. He never drinks anything offered to him from the bar, not after the things he finds himself a spectator of every day. He tells everyone that alcohol is bad for his voice, that he can't do his set effectively while drinking it.
His brother has no such issues with it.
-
The more Yuuta learns about the club owner, Yukimura, the less he actually knows. He can't figure out how he could have gotten a job without so much as being glanced at, let alone an interview of some sort. He thinks perhaps his brother got hold of some of Yuuta's mixes for Yukimura to listen to, except, except that Yuuta has never made any discs.
One time, he asks Syuusuke about the third floor, figuring that his brother has been a patron of the club for so long, he must know something.
"You can use the private rooms too, if you just ask nicely," he says, and smiles in a way Yuuta isn't familiar with, and doesn't want to be in the future, either.
One time, he sees his brother and Yukimura sharing drinks, standing at the end of the bar together, talking quietly, and laughing loud. He sees his brother's loose shirt skimming over his stomach, he sees Yukimura's string of keys peeking out from under his jacket, he sees the hand that curls around Yukimura's shoulder when his brother laughs and needs something to hold on to.
Yuuta picks up his headphones with trembling fingers and tests the equipment before his set before his mind can even begin to connect the dots.
-
( Sanada, Yukimura, Akaya 242 Words. )
-
Akaya is something different entirely.
When he enters Yukimura's office, Sanada can't help but glance up disapprovingly at the way Kirihara puts down the tray just a little too hard, enough for it to clatter on the desk. His sullen glare says silently that he shouldn't be there, he shouldn't be the one climbing the stairs over and over again just so Yukimura can have his drink the way he likes it.
Yukimura smiles absently like he has no idea what Kirihara is thinking, picks up his glass with a deceptively casual grip, and waves him away.
"Why do you suffer him?" Sanada asks, tucking his own copies of the prototype flyers away in his briefcase and shutting it firmly.
"Because I know his story," Yukimura replies, presses a button. "Marui, send Akaya up with the same again. And some snacks."
Sanada turns his eyes away from Yukimura's face, from the look that kills all further questions.
"So," he says, clearing his throat and pressing fingertips to the middle flyer, the one in dark blue, "I think this design is effective in giving off the right atmosphere."
Yukimura sinks into the business discussion, and betrays just a hint of a smile when Akaya storms in again minutes later, gripping his tray so hard his knuckles are white.
Sanada says absolutely nothing, not even when Kirihara has almost pulled the door closed behind him and mutters, purposely loudly, "I could do that job.".
-
( Tezuka, Yukimura 225 Words )
-
Yukimura does not make a habit of being late; it gives off a bad impression. He simply enjoys making Tezuka squirm, whether he himself thinks he does or not.
He is sitting at the bar, orange juice in hand, when Niou slips through the doorway looking warm, full, fuzzy, awake, aware and glittering all at the same time.
A moment later, Yukimura steps out of the same doorway, adjusting his sleeve and fiddling with his shirt button.
It doesn't take a scientist, Tezuka thinks to himself sourly. Yukimura sits down opposite him and the boy behind the bar rushes to fix him a drink before he can ask.
He refuses to dignify Yukimura's actions with words, and he definitely does not need to ask questions or enquire any further into events. He just gives his most effective disapproving look. Even that doesn't seem to work on Yukimura. He just shrugs.
"How do you think most of the staff got on the payroll?" He asks pleasantly.
"I didn't," Tezuka replies. He takes a modest sip of his drink.
"Well no," Yukimura agrees easily, "not everyone was directly involved in their own hiring. But you have to wonder, don't you, who slept with me in order for me to bring you here?"
Tezuka can't even begin to entertain the idea that that might not have been a joke.
-