http://thesecretdoor.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
thesecretdoor.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
writetomyheart2019-06-03 12:24 am
thesecretdoor.livejournal.com) wrote in writetomyheart2019-06-03 12:24 am
Entry tags:
[team three] three, two, one
This is a continuation of an AU I posted here at my LJ ageeees ago - think thieves and assassins. Purely because I have so many KyoYasu feels right now
“Promise me.” Taiga orders, it’s the first thing he’s said to Yasui in weeks. The disappointment is still written all over his face but it’s a different emotion shining in his eyes. “Promise me you won’t lie, ever, not to me.”
The words are right there on the tip of his tongue, the ones Taiga wants to hear. He could utter them effortlessly and Taiga would believe them – he’s always been a good liar. He holds them back though, exactly because it’s Taiga, because there’s something about the way Taiga has always trusted him, something about the way that warms his insides in weird ways. Yasui doesn’t want to lie to him.
“I won’t” he says seriously, once he’s thought about it, once he’s sure he means it. “I promise, I won’t lie to you.”
He didn’t lie, his conscience reminds him as he rouses from a restless sleep, the dream – the memory – still lingering in the back of his mind. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. Yasui has learnt to walk the fine line between the two – how to not quite be honest while not being dishonest either. It’s all part of his infiltration training, a vital skill for a thief. It’s a vital skill for an assassin too, and he can’t help but wonder if Taiga walks that line as well as he does now. Taiga never was such a god liar, his heart worn always, if not on his sleeve, then shining from his eyes.
A noise startles him, it was probably that same noise that woke him, one he’s always had a healthy deference for. A motorcycle. That certainly wasn’t part of infiltration training, Fujigaya always was rather on the showy side though. The Masked assassin they call him, it’s really more of a motorcycle helmet than a mask but it serves the same function. The story goes that the mask only comes off right before he deals the finishing blow – nobody has seen his face and lived to tell of it.
Yasui knows the real reason behind the mask of course – a safety precaution. Fujigaya’s forte is physical combat, an unusual speciality for an assassin and yet it makes him the ideal choice for gang attacks and group hits. But group hits come with high risks, aside from the high risk of being overpowered, there’s always the chance that one will escape – Fujigaya can’t have anyone that sees his face left alive out there.
Taiga said it wasn’t Fujigaya that was coming after them though. Their fate is much worse. Kamenashi – The Tortoise. Japan’s number one assassin has taken out more hits than both Taiga and Fujigaya combined. Contrary to his name, Kamenashi is anything but slow, his style is speed, precision and efficiency – no questions, no emotional involvement, just a name or a face and a single bullet.
The fact that Taiga has been gone almost two weeks doesn’t fill Yasui with hope, Kamenashi doesn’t take that long, and yet the fact that Yasui is still alive, after almost two weeks, has him holding on to the few shreds of hope he still has. If Taiga had been dispatched, Kamenashi would come for him next.
Yasui strains his ears to listen, the sound of the motorcycle is long gone, there’s something else though, something that only ears expertly trained in stealth would be able to pick up. A soft shuffle, muffled breath.
He inhales slowly, holds on to the breath and stays motionless, it’s all he can do. His leg is still less than useless, swollen and leaking strange fluid from the point Taiga’s dart pierced, he can’t run, can’t hide, definitely can’t fight. All he can do is listen.
There’s something else, deafening silence pierced by a quiet, barely momentary, whistle and then his held breath is knocked out of him at the sudden sound of shattering glass.
“Son of a bitch.” he makes out, hushed and muffled, and then the bedroom door swings open, banging loudly against the wall behind it as a figure charges inside, pausing only long enough to tug off a motorcycle helmet, before panting. “Can you move?”
Captain![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
su_jin is travelling and is going to skip so defiancebyfire it's your turn!!
“Promise me.” Taiga orders, it’s the first thing he’s said to Yasui in weeks. The disappointment is still written all over his face but it’s a different emotion shining in his eyes. “Promise me you won’t lie, ever, not to me.”
The words are right there on the tip of his tongue, the ones Taiga wants to hear. He could utter them effortlessly and Taiga would believe them – he’s always been a good liar. He holds them back though, exactly because it’s Taiga, because there’s something about the way Taiga has always trusted him, something about the way that warms his insides in weird ways. Yasui doesn’t want to lie to him.
“I won’t” he says seriously, once he’s thought about it, once he’s sure he means it. “I promise, I won’t lie to you.”
He didn’t lie, his conscience reminds him as he rouses from a restless sleep, the dream – the memory – still lingering in the back of his mind. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. Yasui has learnt to walk the fine line between the two – how to not quite be honest while not being dishonest either. It’s all part of his infiltration training, a vital skill for a thief. It’s a vital skill for an assassin too, and he can’t help but wonder if Taiga walks that line as well as he does now. Taiga never was such a god liar, his heart worn always, if not on his sleeve, then shining from his eyes.
A noise startles him, it was probably that same noise that woke him, one he’s always had a healthy deference for. A motorcycle. That certainly wasn’t part of infiltration training, Fujigaya always was rather on the showy side though. The Masked assassin they call him, it’s really more of a motorcycle helmet than a mask but it serves the same function. The story goes that the mask only comes off right before he deals the finishing blow – nobody has seen his face and lived to tell of it.
Yasui knows the real reason behind the mask of course – a safety precaution. Fujigaya’s forte is physical combat, an unusual speciality for an assassin and yet it makes him the ideal choice for gang attacks and group hits. But group hits come with high risks, aside from the high risk of being overpowered, there’s always the chance that one will escape – Fujigaya can’t have anyone that sees his face left alive out there.
Taiga said it wasn’t Fujigaya that was coming after them though. Their fate is much worse. Kamenashi – The Tortoise. Japan’s number one assassin has taken out more hits than both Taiga and Fujigaya combined. Contrary to his name, Kamenashi is anything but slow, his style is speed, precision and efficiency – no questions, no emotional involvement, just a name or a face and a single bullet.
The fact that Taiga has been gone almost two weeks doesn’t fill Yasui with hope, Kamenashi doesn’t take that long, and yet the fact that Yasui is still alive, after almost two weeks, has him holding on to the few shreds of hope he still has. If Taiga had been dispatched, Kamenashi would come for him next.
Yasui strains his ears to listen, the sound of the motorcycle is long gone, there’s something else though, something that only ears expertly trained in stealth would be able to pick up. A soft shuffle, muffled breath.
He inhales slowly, holds on to the breath and stays motionless, it’s all he can do. His leg is still less than useless, swollen and leaking strange fluid from the point Taiga’s dart pierced, he can’t run, can’t hide, definitely can’t fight. All he can do is listen.
There’s something else, deafening silence pierced by a quiet, barely momentary, whistle and then his held breath is knocked out of him at the sudden sound of shattering glass.
“Son of a bitch.” he makes out, hushed and muffled, and then the bedroom door swings open, banging loudly against the wall behind it as a figure charges inside, pausing only long enough to tug off a motorcycle helmet, before panting. “Can you move?”
Captain
su_jin is travelling and is going to skip so defiancebyfire it's your turn!!