#aragami rouga

[spudbot]

[pilmyeol]

I love how Future Force was completely abandoned, as were buddy skills, the fact that it technically exists within the same world as cfv, the fact that Rouga should really only have long hair while using Disaster Force, Gao’s signature impact cards, Drum, actual game mechanics, the idea that Tasuku would ever be allowed to be a child, th

[hongstoes]

Were they lovers? Worse.

There once was a wolf feared throughout the land for his strength. Anyone who stood against him was sure to be defeated. Just as feared was the sly fox who ruled the forest from the shadows.

When the two met, the forest went silent in anticipation. Who would win? Strength or tact?

In the end, no one won. The two walked the same path, tails entwined. The wolf had fallen in love completely. The fox said he had as well.

Foxes are tricky.  “Rouga?” The voice was sterile. It had been washed clean of all gritty sincerity or rugged emotion. It was unnatural in its cleanliness. Still, it was comforting to Rouga. Like they would for a sick child growing up in a hospital, antiseptic practices became familiar and routine. But he wasn’t that sick child anymore. His immune system was strong enough to handle reality. He was strong enough to turn and face it, the virus cloaked in hand sanitizer. “Kyoya.” Rouga allowed much more resentment into his voice than he expected. The entire situation was aggravating. After years of silence, he wanted to meet up in a random coffee shop? It didn’t make sense. Neither of them drank coffee. Neither of them wanted to talk. And yet, here they were. Rouga was sat in a coffee shop behind a black coffee. Kyoya stood in front of him holding a caffe misto with non-fat milk and two pumps of sugarfree vanilla. At least that was Rouga’s guess. “You look different, Rouga.” Kyoya repeated his name like he was testing out the sound in his mouth. After so long, maybe it didn’t belong there anymore. Rouga glared at him silently. Perhaps he did look different, but Kyoya didn’t. He hadn’t changed at all. His eyes still dissected anyone he glanced at, slicing into them and scanning for weakness and desire. He still styled his hair to both elevate his height and humble himself at the same time. He still wore greys and whites to appear more approachable. He still had that air of false respect that reeked of new-car-smell. Every part of him was calculated. It was clinical. Rouga felt sick. Facing him now felt the same as it had back then—like watching a train hit a car. It sucked any ounce of carefree from his emotion and replaced it with dread. Still, it was magnetic. He strained to pull away from Kyoya’s gaze. “May I sit?” Kyoya smiled with a conscious neutrality, clearly asking himself has Rouga changed? If he had, none of the charm would work on him. Rouga flicked his head toward the chair across from him in reluctant agreement. His eyes drifted to the coffee as Kyoya took his seat. His reflection floated on top, reminding him that this was real. Yes, the man he loved for years truly had returned to surgically open his scars and pour more salt in the wound. But first, Kyoya adjusted his hair and clothes to fall perfectly. He never could focus if he didn’t look just how he wanted. “Do you know why I asked you to meet?” Kyoya smiled softly, dumping sugar into his words. He had a guess, but Kyoya hated guessing and made sure Rouga did too. “I don’t.” It was technically the truth. He didn’t know. He leaned back in his chair and sipped his coffee. It was bitter and unpleasant, a welcome contrast to the artificial sweetener across from him. Kyoya shook his head almost imperceptibly. He had been expecting a guess, Rouga was sure of it. He desperately wanted Rouga to be wrong. “I want you to think on it some more.” Kyoya, too, raised his coffee to his lips without looking. His eyes were busy accusing Rouga of something. He knew he had a guess. And he would sit here in silence until Rouga surrendered. Rouga placed the coffee gently but firmly in front of him. He knew this standoff could last until the shop closed. He had experienced it enough times. “I think you need a goon for your next scheme.” In one way, the statement meant surrender. But Rouga knew never to surrender to Kyoya without laying out his next attack. Kyoya’s lips tightened into a smile before failing to hold back a laugh. And, goddamn it, that laugh woke him up more than any coffee ever could. He squeezed his eyes shut and pushed away the memories of Kyoya laughing in his face a dozen other times. It used to be endearing. Rouga used to absolutely love hearing the practiced chuckle give way to true laughter. He savored watching the corporate composure melt away in a fleeting moment of complete sincerity. Here, now, he hated it. He hated the Kyoya on the outside just as much as the one on the inside. They were equally dangerous. “Forgive me.” Kyoya straightened himself out like a business card he had left in his pocket. “I must have left my manners at home.” Rouga rolled his eyes and bit back an insult. “What are you plotting now, Kyoya?” He growled like he always did. “Plotting? Schemes?” Kyoya tilted his head like a fox rearing to jump at its prey. “You make me sound like a supervillain.” Rouga dipped his head down and crossed his arms in anticipation for his own laugh. All that came was a stifled smile. He shook it away. There was no point in saying what he wanted to say. “My bad,” Rouga muttered as the absurdity of the situation continued to sneak up on him. He had a hard time believing this was real. “I just wanted to catch up.” Kyoya sipped his pretentious coffee with hooded eyes. “That’s why I called you here.” He wasn’t Kyoya’s dog anymore. His eyebrows furrowed in anger. Still, he appeared at his beck and call. “And this has absolutely nothing to do with my recent promotion?” Rouga glared up at Kyoya through his eyebrows. “Right?” Gracefully, Kyoya placed his cup in front of him and rested his face on his hand. A gentle smile crawled across his face but never quite reached his eyes. “What kind of work are you doing these days?” Rouga shook his head in disbelief. Perhaps Kyoya really had changed after all. He couldn’t remember ever getting this pissed at him. He could remember these encrypted interrogations, though, and if he ever called out this faux ignorance, somehow he would be the crazy one. “I’m a detective.” Once again, Rouga surrendered. You know that. He didn’t say, retreating without an attack. The coffee was gritty in his throat. “You’re a cop, now?” Kyoya threatened to point and laugh, but (for once) controlled himself. “No wonder you cut your hair.” Rouga wasn’t expecting him to mention his hair. Part of him wanted a compliment on it. Kyoya knew it, too. That’s why he wouldn’t get one. An attack could come nonverbally, too. Disengage. Rouga looked around the coffee shop. It was a modern yet cozy place. The dark wood floors contrasted with the white counters and tables. Rouga had chosen one of the uncomfortable metal seats near the window. He knew it would satisfy Kyoya. It was isolated enough for a private conversation, but public enough that Rouga wouldn’t try to strangle him. Again. Dozens of people were sat inside chatting, half of them unaware that the Kyoya Gaen was in the same room. The barista was a part of the other half. She was making out like she was restocking the pastry display, but really, she was only moving them around as she stared at Kyoya through the glass. Rouga glanced back at him. He pretended not to notice. “Do you know what I’ve been up to?” Kyoya said before returning eye contact to the barista in the pastries. It was intentional to do it then. The barista nearly slammed her head into the shelf trying to wave at him, but his inspection was over before she could. Rouga could practically hear his thoughts: You don’t hold the power here. If you don’t give me attention, I’ll get it somehow. Rouga’s eyes were narrow. They flicked back and forth as he calculated his response to that question. What sort of test was that? Of course he knew what he had been up to—on the surface, at least. Everyone in this coffee shop and anywhere else did too. It was all over the news. If he was working on something behind the scenes, maybe he was trying to figure out if the cops were onto him. “Not really.” He decided on the sterile non-response. Kyoya’s smile faded. His eyebrows raised away from his lowering eyelids in an expression as bitter as Rouga’s coffee. He was transforming into the Kyoya that threw him out with the trash. Rouga’s heartbeat accelerated. The room was suddenly uncomfortably hot. The reflexes learned from a lifetime in the hospital do not leave easily. The patient does not make himself sterile. The question hadn’t been a test at all. Kyoya was simply asking him, have you been thinking of me? And the answer was so stupidly simple: I never stopped. Not even for a moment. But neither of them wanted to talk. “Is that true?” Kyoya’s red eyes glowed a terrifying yellow as he leaned forward. The action was so covertly threatening, Rouga feared he might lunge at him and rip out his throat with his teeth at any moment. “I mean—” Rouga’s fingers slowly wrapped around the coffee cup like it was a defensive weapon. “I’ve seen you on the news.” Kyoya frowned, expecting more. “Congrats!” Rouga forced a smile, desperate to escape the oppressive atmosphere. “There’s no need for that.” Kyoya smiled and looked out the window just to see his own reflection in the glass. He stared for a little too long. The smile softened and melted away. The silence asked Rouga to say more. He refused. “Rouga,” He returned to match Rouga’s stare before throwing a grenade, “I want you to return to my side.” Kyoya pulled the pin from another. “As my friend.” There were so many things Rouga didn’t say then. He wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. He wanted to take him up on the offer. He wanted to remind him who exactly cut him off to begin with. He wanted to beg him to love him this time. He said nothing. “No games,” Kyoya said, trying his best to project sincerity. That was probably why his leg started bouncing. “I just want my best friend back.” In an instant, Rouga was 8 again. He had no name and, for once, he didn’t care. He was playing with Kyoya Gaen, the heir to the biggest financial corporation in the world, as if he was anyone else. He chased him around the yard that went on further than his hometown did. He caught him. They collapsed to the ground giggling. Together, they were nobody at all. “You’re It.” Rouga had a hard time believing this was real. Just a day before, he was struggling to survive. He never wanted to live like that again. Kyoya had saved him. “You’re my best friend.” Kyoya smiled wide before pulling himself back up and flicking the grass off his expensive pants. Rouga stood and brushed off his back. Then, he took off. There was a smile on his face, too. And he didn’t bother to hide it.   “Kyoya.” Rouga pulled himself back into the present. “I can’t do it again.” “Do what?” His eyes were wide and innocent. For a moment, Rouga believed in their innocence. Then, he remembered. “I loved you.” Rouga winced at the phrase, turning away from it as it entered the room. “I loved you,” he said more confidently this time. “And I can’t do it again.” Maybe he could, he tried to convince himself. “Rouga…” Kyoya pretended to search for what to say. He acted like, for the first time, there was nothing loaded in the chamber. It was all calculated and so transparent. “I’m sorry.” Rouga shook his head. “Don’t say that. It’s fucked up that you can lie like that.” He sucked his lip between his teeth, pushing away the tears hoping to form. “I’m not—” “Don’t.” Rouga shoved away from the table, scraping the metal chair across the floor. The cafe went silent. Everyone knew Kyoya was here, now. “I have to go.” Kyoya stood, too, as patrons brandished their phones for pictures. As Rouga rushed out the door, he followed. “Listen to me.” He grabbed his sleeve. Rouga stopped. He pivoted on his heel to look at Kyoya. He was still too short to be acting so tall. “I don’t have to follow your orders anymore. I won’t,” he spat. Kyoya’s face was unreadable. There was no reason for repentance or self-pity now, so Rouga knew that wasn’t it. “If you don’t want to listen, turn on the TV. I’m always talking to you.” Rouga shook his sleeve free and took off. The fox had tried to eat the wolf so many times, there was nothing he could do but run. The wolf ran and ran until his legs gave out. When the moon came out, he howled. He had no reason why. Then he kept running. Because if he ever stopped, he would return to the fox and be devoured. Wolves are loyal.

[soundlesswind]

Hi, Kennedy! I'm your Secret Santa ^o^)/ Hope you have a great holiday.

[temperamentupgrade]

I don't know how I did it but I somehow thought of a head canon of Rouga being really careful with his hair. Like, he he says otherwise but he secretly spends hours perfecting it and making sure it looks right.

[lyricalmonasterio]

バディファイト | とうげ [pixiv]

[dorkova]

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[flivine]

senpai   .. .