Drabble no. 1
May. 5th, 2004 08:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tarigwaemirAd Mundo Exteriore,
Well, it's a little rough, but here's the Tenipuri drabble for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tryogeru. Sorry, Tryo-chan, it ended up being more of a Kamio drabble than a Shinji one, but...I really don't know how to write Shinji. Actually, uh, I can't write Tenipuri, period, so this is all pretty rough. >_> Takes place in pre-Tachibana era at Fudoumine (when the boys are all ichinensei).
The Fast Way, fortryogeru
"Well, don't just stand there. Clean up the courts."
They were holding the racquets like clubs, arms swinging in dangerous sweeps as they swaggered past him. He watched them leave out of the corner of his eye as he silently started to pick up tennis balls.
"Hurry up. The court better be clean by the time we're out of the showers or the coach's going to kick you out of the club," warned one of the second-years. Someone who hadn't quite gotten into the rhythm of the traditional bullying yet--there were still a few of those left, although they hissed their warning as threats.
"Man, I thought we were going to join the tennis club to play /tennis/," muttered Kamio, quickly jogging across the court, his arms already full of equipment.
"They could let us warm up at least, instead of standing and watching them play so badly. It was so hot today, and I didn't even have my water bottle with me because one of the /senpai/ took it. Why did he take it when he has his own water bottle? It's--"
"--not fair, yeah," Kamio interrupted Shinji's half-murmured soliloquy.
They continued picking up tennis balls.
"Hey, Shinji."
"Yeah?"
"How long does it usually take them to shower?"
"I don't know. How am I supposed to know that? I lost my watch last week; I never know what time it is anymore. I should go check the lost and found again. Maybe someone found it."
"Never mind," Kamio said impatiently, "they're not going to be out for a while, right? Why don't we do this the /fast/ way?"
"What's the fast way?"
The other boy grinned and tossed him a racquet. "Service goes to Kamio Akira," he announced as he hit a perfect backhand serve. The ball landed in the basket with a dull smack.
Shinji looked at the racquet in his hand and smiled slightly. Soon, balls were flying through the air--Kamio dancing back and forth across the courts at top speed, humming that annoying song of his, Shinji silently matching him, serve for serve, in flawless form. They never missed, of course.
The basket was nearly full. Shinji picked up the last ball on the court, tossed it up in the air, and leapt up to meet it, his body arching back to swing the racquet with maximum force. Kamio stopped humming. The ball cut through the air, flying on its parabolic trajectory, to its inevitable destination--
"Ouch! What the /hell/?! You little punks!"
Shinji looked nervously at Kamio, who shrugged, grabbed their unopened tennis bags, and sang out, "Now's the time to get in the rhythm!"
They ran for it.
END
Next up...Hot-Blooded Woman. Oh dear. >_<
I also wrote a really short Hikaru no Go drabble for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
temps_mort yesterday. You may find it here.
Oh, and while I'm at it...last week, I started a differenttemps_mort challenge (the postscript one), but I ran out of time. Well that, and also I realized that what I really wanted to write was a fic for that challenge (I forgot who came up with it, but I read about it on someone's journal and I've been haunted by the idea ever since) where Touya Kouyo continually replays his game with Sai until he starts building up an image of Sai, with each move. I don't know if I actually am going to write it, but I really, really want to read a fic that meets this challenge. Anyway, my unfinished Hikaru no Go fragment number three:
Touya--
Well, isn't this awkward? Uh, I'm no good at writing letters, you know, so I hope you weren't expecting anything much. What kind of weirdo asks me to send him letters when he's away? Oi, it's the twenty-first century, Touya, and I know you know how to use a computer better than I do...it's called e-mail. Yeah, e-mail, that thing that's fast, quick and doesn't require me to remember the grammar classes I slept through in primary.
What should I write? Huh. Let's start over again.
Hi, Touya. How's your grand tour of China going? Is Touya-sensei enjoying himself? Played any good opponents lately? (That reminds me, I'm sending you copies of the kifu that you requested, so you better return the favor. Especially since I have no way of seeing any of Touya-sensei's league games, while you can look up all the stuff I'm sending you online.) What's Beijing like? From what Isumi-san says, it's pretty competitive over there. Plus, a lot more players around our age.
Look, I told you I wasn't good at this sort of thing.
--Shindou
P.S. Hey, I hope you're coming back soon. It's getting boring, playing Waya and Isumi and Nase all the time. I mean, not that go ever gets boring, but...you know. The board looks kind of, well, empty when you're not around. I guess that awful temper of yours keeps it interesting.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Shindou,
The reason I expressly asked you not to use email is because you can't type and I don't want to suffer through your typos on top of your rather creative interpretation of spelling. And my awful temper? May I remind you who started the argument last time? I'm amazed that selective memory of yours hasn't affected your game yet.
Father is fine, though he's caught a bit of a cold. His doctors are telling him to take it easy, but you know how much he pays attention to their advice. Mother's not worried, I think, so it's probably not too serious. He plays constantly, these days. Even when he's alone, I see him replaying games over and over. I don't know how he's done it, but every room in the apartment has a goban in it somewhere. No wonder he's getting sick.
(Any comments along the lines of "Like father, like son" here will be met with swift retribution, Shindou.)
I've enclosed copies of all the kifu I have of the league games, plus a few of the ones I managed to jot down from the unofficial ones I got to watch at the Institute. I hope you appreciate it--God knows you need the incentive to study something else other than Shuusaku. Thanks for the kifu, by the way; I'm amazed you actually remembered. By the way, what was Kurata-san doing there with that move during yose? If his opponent was more observant, it could have been a pretty dangerous situation.
Beijing is very noisy and colorful, even more so than Tokyo. I have to keep ducking about to make sure there aren't any bicycles about to run me over. Naturally, I spend most of my time at the Institute. And yes, most of the players are young. I've met Yang-san, who asks me to ask you to relay his greetings to Isumi-san. I've learned so much in the past week alone--the Chinese style of playing is rather different from our own. I don't know if we are more traditional or if I'm just not used to it, but it's certainly forced me to think. I can see why Father's so bent on innovating. Go is such a flexible game, with infinitely more possibilities than the human mind is capable of contemplating. Yang-san believes that go can be computerized but I have my doubts. Computers are a human creation, after all.
Now look, I've started a treatise on go. Well, I should probably end this letter before you fall asleep on me, Shindou.
Sincerely,
Touya
2003-06-18
Beijing, China
PS: I didn't intend to write about this, but...Mother doesn't know anything about the Sai incident, and no one else knows enough--in fact, I don't even know enough, but you do, so tell you I shall. Wake up, Shindou, because I don't know whether I should be worried about Father or not, and although you're the last person I would normally ask for advice, there's really no one else to consult.
Father's completely fixated on that last game with Sai. When I said he's been replaying games, I should have made that singular--he doesn't play any other game but that one or at least variations on it. I did the same thing for about a year after that second game with you when you completely crushed me, but that wasn't like this. I suppose I should admit it was more from hurt pride than anything else, but why would Father be dissatisfied with that game? Other than the fact that the opponent has disappeared...you never explained to me about Sai, you know. I've been trying to respect your privacy but it isn't just a matter of curiosity anymore--I'm getting worried about Father. He stares off into space in between placing stones on the board, and sometimes his lips move, as if he's talking to himself. Father never talks when he's playing, not even when he's just reviewing a game. He's always silent, and...oh. I have to go. Write back.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Touya--
Why are your letters so long? Thanks for the kifu, am sending you this week's batch, as promised. The things I do for my rival. Hey, come to think of it, that makes no sense. Why am I sending you all this stuff? I should be thinking of ways to defeat you not help you! (On the other hand, you're doing the same for me...fine, I'll stop complaining. See, Touya, I can be mature.)
Kurata-san has been whining about the new komi and how it's been throwing off his yose calculations. I think he's just getting old and nervous--Isumi, Kadowaki and I have all beaten him successively this month, and I'm sure he's feeling the heat. Yeah, we're finally starting to make the upper dan really sweat. Once Kuwabara topples off his throne, it's going to get pretty vicious around here.
I don't follow where you were going with that computer go business, but whatever. Figure out that Chinese style, so we can beat them at next year's Hokuto Cup. I'm really tired of third place.
--Shindou
P.S. This better not be a ruse to make me tell you about Sai. Because if you're trying to make me pity Touya-sensei, you're failing.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Shindou,
Third place is entirely your fault. Kifu enclosed. I have no comments on your maturity.
Sincerely,
Touya
2003-06-30
Beijing, China
PS: Your letter annoyed me sufficiently that I wasn't going to write more than that, but I figured it was a waste of postage and paper to let it go. So I might as well be honest with you. (Since when have I made ploys for pity? Oh, I could just throttle you for that...but I'll settle for beating you completely in our next game. I predict you'll resign after sixty moves.)
Father's been rather odd lately.
TBC
>_< Ugh, the characterizations are just the slightest bit off. I need to go read the manga again.
...Tari
Well, it's a little rough, but here's the Tenipuri drabble for
tryogeru. Sorry, Tryo-chan, it ended up being more of a Kamio drabble than a Shinji one, but...I really don't know how to write Shinji. Actually, uh, I can't write Tenipuri, period, so this is all pretty rough. >_> Takes place in pre-Tachibana era at Fudoumine (when the boys are all ichinensei).The Fast Way, for
tryogeru"Well, don't just stand there. Clean up the courts."
They were holding the racquets like clubs, arms swinging in dangerous sweeps as they swaggered past him. He watched them leave out of the corner of his eye as he silently started to pick up tennis balls.
"Hurry up. The court better be clean by the time we're out of the showers or the coach's going to kick you out of the club," warned one of the second-years. Someone who hadn't quite gotten into the rhythm of the traditional bullying yet--there were still a few of those left, although they hissed their warning as threats.
"Man, I thought we were going to join the tennis club to play /tennis/," muttered Kamio, quickly jogging across the court, his arms already full of equipment.
"They could let us warm up at least, instead of standing and watching them play so badly. It was so hot today, and I didn't even have my water bottle with me because one of the /senpai/ took it. Why did he take it when he has his own water bottle? It's--"
"--not fair, yeah," Kamio interrupted Shinji's half-murmured soliloquy.
They continued picking up tennis balls.
"Hey, Shinji."
"Yeah?"
"How long does it usually take them to shower?"
"I don't know. How am I supposed to know that? I lost my watch last week; I never know what time it is anymore. I should go check the lost and found again. Maybe someone found it."
"Never mind," Kamio said impatiently, "they're not going to be out for a while, right? Why don't we do this the /fast/ way?"
"What's the fast way?"
The other boy grinned and tossed him a racquet. "Service goes to Kamio Akira," he announced as he hit a perfect backhand serve. The ball landed in the basket with a dull smack.
Shinji looked at the racquet in his hand and smiled slightly. Soon, balls were flying through the air--Kamio dancing back and forth across the courts at top speed, humming that annoying song of his, Shinji silently matching him, serve for serve, in flawless form. They never missed, of course.
The basket was nearly full. Shinji picked up the last ball on the court, tossed it up in the air, and leapt up to meet it, his body arching back to swing the racquet with maximum force. Kamio stopped humming. The ball cut through the air, flying on its parabolic trajectory, to its inevitable destination--
"Ouch! What the /hell/?! You little punks!"
Shinji looked nervously at Kamio, who shrugged, grabbed their unopened tennis bags, and sang out, "Now's the time to get in the rhythm!"
They ran for it.
END
Next up...Hot-Blooded Woman. Oh dear. >_<
I also wrote a really short Hikaru no Go drabble for
temps_mort yesterday. You may find it here.Oh, and while I'm at it...last week, I started a different
temps_mort challenge (the postscript one), but I ran out of time. Well that, and also I realized that what I really wanted to write was a fic for that challenge (I forgot who came up with it, but I read about it on someone's journal and I've been haunted by the idea ever since) where Touya Kouyo continually replays his game with Sai until he starts building up an image of Sai, with each move. I don't know if I actually am going to write it, but I really, really want to read a fic that meets this challenge. Anyway, my unfinished Hikaru no Go fragment number three:Touya--
Well, isn't this awkward? Uh, I'm no good at writing letters, you know, so I hope you weren't expecting anything much. What kind of weirdo asks me to send him letters when he's away? Oi, it's the twenty-first century, Touya, and I know you know how to use a computer better than I do...it's called e-mail. Yeah, e-mail, that thing that's fast, quick and doesn't require me to remember the grammar classes I slept through in primary.
What should I write? Huh. Let's start over again.
Hi, Touya. How's your grand tour of China going? Is Touya-sensei enjoying himself? Played any good opponents lately? (That reminds me, I'm sending you copies of the kifu that you requested, so you better return the favor. Especially since I have no way of seeing any of Touya-sensei's league games, while you can look up all the stuff I'm sending you online.) What's Beijing like? From what Isumi-san says, it's pretty competitive over there. Plus, a lot more players around our age.
Look, I told you I wasn't good at this sort of thing.
--Shindou
P.S. Hey, I hope you're coming back soon. It's getting boring, playing Waya and Isumi and Nase all the time. I mean, not that go ever gets boring, but...you know. The board looks kind of, well, empty when you're not around. I guess that awful temper of yours keeps it interesting.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Shindou,
The reason I expressly asked you not to use email is because you can't type and I don't want to suffer through your typos on top of your rather creative interpretation of spelling. And my awful temper? May I remind you who started the argument last time? I'm amazed that selective memory of yours hasn't affected your game yet.
Father is fine, though he's caught a bit of a cold. His doctors are telling him to take it easy, but you know how much he pays attention to their advice. Mother's not worried, I think, so it's probably not too serious. He plays constantly, these days. Even when he's alone, I see him replaying games over and over. I don't know how he's done it, but every room in the apartment has a goban in it somewhere. No wonder he's getting sick.
(Any comments along the lines of "Like father, like son" here will be met with swift retribution, Shindou.)
I've enclosed copies of all the kifu I have of the league games, plus a few of the ones I managed to jot down from the unofficial ones I got to watch at the Institute. I hope you appreciate it--God knows you need the incentive to study something else other than Shuusaku. Thanks for the kifu, by the way; I'm amazed you actually remembered. By the way, what was Kurata-san doing there with that move during yose? If his opponent was more observant, it could have been a pretty dangerous situation.
Beijing is very noisy and colorful, even more so than Tokyo. I have to keep ducking about to make sure there aren't any bicycles about to run me over. Naturally, I spend most of my time at the Institute. And yes, most of the players are young. I've met Yang-san, who asks me to ask you to relay his greetings to Isumi-san. I've learned so much in the past week alone--the Chinese style of playing is rather different from our own. I don't know if we are more traditional or if I'm just not used to it, but it's certainly forced me to think. I can see why Father's so bent on innovating. Go is such a flexible game, with infinitely more possibilities than the human mind is capable of contemplating. Yang-san believes that go can be computerized but I have my doubts. Computers are a human creation, after all.
Now look, I've started a treatise on go. Well, I should probably end this letter before you fall asleep on me, Shindou.
Sincerely,
Touya
2003-06-18
Beijing, China
PS: I didn't intend to write about this, but...Mother doesn't know anything about the Sai incident, and no one else knows enough--in fact, I don't even know enough, but you do, so tell you I shall. Wake up, Shindou, because I don't know whether I should be worried about Father or not, and although you're the last person I would normally ask for advice, there's really no one else to consult.
Father's completely fixated on that last game with Sai. When I said he's been replaying games, I should have made that singular--he doesn't play any other game but that one or at least variations on it. I did the same thing for about a year after that second game with you when you completely crushed me, but that wasn't like this. I suppose I should admit it was more from hurt pride than anything else, but why would Father be dissatisfied with that game? Other than the fact that the opponent has disappeared...you never explained to me about Sai, you know. I've been trying to respect your privacy but it isn't just a matter of curiosity anymore--I'm getting worried about Father. He stares off into space in between placing stones on the board, and sometimes his lips move, as if he's talking to himself. Father never talks when he's playing, not even when he's just reviewing a game. He's always silent, and...oh. I have to go. Write back.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Touya--
Why are your letters so long? Thanks for the kifu, am sending you this week's batch, as promised. The things I do for my rival. Hey, come to think of it, that makes no sense. Why am I sending you all this stuff? I should be thinking of ways to defeat you not help you! (On the other hand, you're doing the same for me...fine, I'll stop complaining. See, Touya, I can be mature.)
Kurata-san has been whining about the new komi and how it's been throwing off his yose calculations. I think he's just getting old and nervous--Isumi, Kadowaki and I have all beaten him successively this month, and I'm sure he's feeling the heat. Yeah, we're finally starting to make the upper dan really sweat. Once Kuwabara topples off his throne, it's going to get pretty vicious around here.
I don't follow where you were going with that computer go business, but whatever. Figure out that Chinese style, so we can beat them at next year's Hokuto Cup. I'm really tired of third place.
--Shindou
P.S. This better not be a ruse to make me tell you about Sai. Because if you're trying to make me pity Touya-sensei, you're failing.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear Shindou,
Third place is entirely your fault. Kifu enclosed. I have no comments on your maturity.
Sincerely,
Touya
2003-06-30
Beijing, China
PS: Your letter annoyed me sufficiently that I wasn't going to write more than that, but I figured it was a waste of postage and paper to let it go. So I might as well be honest with you. (Since when have I made ploys for pity? Oh, I could just throttle you for that...but I'll settle for beating you completely in our next game. I predict you'll resign after sixty moves.)
Father's been rather odd lately.
TBC
>_< Ugh, the characterizations are just the slightest bit off. I need to go read the manga again.
...Tari
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 07:17 pm (UTC)Yay! Happiness! :::HUUUUUG:::
KamioShinjiKamioShinjiKamioShinjiKamioShinjiKamioShinji!
About your Hikago ficlet:
- doesn't require me to remember the grammar classes I slept through in primary.
More like Kanji lessons. Kanji is the difficult part of writing Japanese. The grammar isn't that hard for native speakers, I mean, as far as conversational emails go, but kanji is where most people facevault. Chinese emails too. Most funny is when the language program packs aren't compatable, and the characters get mixed up, and a perfectly normal name could be changed into "Kitty Poop Eater" or something. Seriously. Many a collapse into laughter have I undergone because of the messed up characters. Anyway...just a little nihongo lesson....
- Oh gosh, about those bikes in Beijing. Did I tell you the time where this guy on a bike tried to run us over? You'd think he wouldn't, since we were in a taxicab. Though I think they try to have different lanes for bikes and cars, at intersections, it still gets interesting.
O.o
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 07:24 pm (UTC)And yeah, the bikes in Beijing part sort of, um, came from your anecdotes. ^_^;; (Hey, do I look I've ever been in Beijing?)
...Tari
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 09:41 pm (UTC)O.o
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 07:30 pm (UTC)Kamio's slightly easier, although I still feel like I'm going out on a limb.
...Tari
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-05 09:37 pm (UTC)Read this:
http://www.livejournal.com/users/petronia/170654.html
CanonCrack!!
O.o
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-07 09:07 pm (UTC)Watched more FMA.
What is me and screwing myself over in a fandom by adoring either really minor characters, or ones that die like halfway through the series?!
>_<# ::hiss::
I <3 Hughes/Roy. I got a really funny idea for a fic. You know how Hughes keeps calling Roy? Well....heh heh..what if one time he wasn't talking about his daughter? Heh. I need to find myself a ficwriter!Slave.
Oh, and FMA is just chock full of brothercest. I mean, beyond the whole Ed/Al thing, it seems like everyone and their dog has a brother that they have to protect/revenge/etc. Heeh.
O.o
(no subject)
Date: 2004-05-07 10:12 pm (UTC)::eyes Tryogeru warily and starts backing away::
And as for brothercest--eh, I'm not an incest fan. The incestuous overtones in Korean drama are enough to squick me out. >_> But Hughes/Roy is cute, I have to admit.
...Tari