Original Composition Date: April 19, 2007

TITLE: Double-Blind
LENGTH: 1,700 words - Oneshot
STATUS: Complete
GENRE: Gen (NO SLASH)
RATING: PG13
CHARACTERS: Nioh, Yagyuu
SUMMARY: Yagyuu's true self, a challenge from Nioh, and the inception of Rikkai's D1 pair.

They called him 'The Gentleman'.

Yagyuu approved of the appellation, though not because it was particularly flattering or particularly accurate. It appeared to be both, yet in actuality was neither, and therefore he found it suitable.

He embraced the namesake. It tugged at the borders of irony, so subtly incongruous, running so very closely parallel to the pretenses it mocked that most people found themselves deceived almost effortlessly on Yagyuu's part. To him, such subtle irony was an art that, once refined, was both thoroughly gratifying and eminently useful.

Everyone knew 'The Gentleman', but 'Yagyuu' was a close-kept secret.

Yagyuu was a waltz, beautiful and deliberate, each word and action conducted in 'one, two, three' rhythm, bringing him always one step closer taking the lead from a partner entirely unaware they had ever willfully resigned the position.

He was a carefully obscured ambiguity, a sweetly-coated razor-sharp double-entendre, an alternating set of contrasting colors viewed through Gaussian blur.

It was pitifully easy to exploit first impressions. His nickname carried with it a set of stereotypical attributes that most people were more than willing to apply to him at first glance. The fact that he indeed possessed many of the presumed qualities was a point in his favor, making it almost too simple for observers to construct their own false perceptions before Yagyuu had to take any action at all. By the time one realized exactly which of the reputed traits were genuine and which were simply illusory, the damage had already been wrought.

He was polite to a fault, punctual, intelligent, meticulous with his words and precise with his actions. His poker face was perfectly practiced, his carefully concealed mean streak a mile wide below the surface, and his temper a slow, rolling boil.

Like the multilayered and often subtextual plots of the mystery novels he indulged in during his leisure time, there was far more to Yagyuu than he ever revealed in the beginning.

Only two people had ever been able to see through him immediately. The first was Yukimura. The second, of course, was his chosen partner in crime.

Nioh's nickname also brought with it a set of stereotypical adjectives. People called him the 'Trickster', and in many ways, he was. He was bit of a rogue, a prankster that enjoyed galling people whenever he had the opportunity. He could be a clown, or a tease, as the situation required.

Their relationship was symbiotic; each played off the strengths and weaknesses of the other.

The Gentleman was quiet, almost pensive; The Trickster was boisterous. The Gentleman was well-mannered and thoughtful; The Trickster was crude and spontaneous. The Gentleman called no undue attention to himself; The Trickster was happy in the limelight.

Therefore, most people considered Nioh the 'dangerous' one, and therein lay their error. While one was busy being wary of Nioh, Yagyuu would take initiative and, as Nioh gleefully enjoyed putting it, 'fuck their shit up'. Yagyuu preferred more discerning language, but it all meant the same thing, in the end -- humiliation and defeat.

Nioh was more perceptive than usually given credit for. He possessed an uncanny ability to read people, which Yagyuu found exceptionally intriguing. Nioh did not study statistics and plans, he simply had the innate capability to predict people's reactions with startling accuracy, not to mention the ability to spot a bluff a mile away. His prowess at pressing all the right buttons on any given person at any given time was astonishing, and seemed to be almost second nature.

Their doubles play was a ruthless game of cat-and-mouse, highly cooperative, and full of unspoken signals.

Nioh took pleasure in being the first to draw the opponents out, making a show of toying with them in a cocky, almost casual fashion. When they fought back in indignation he got serious, chasing them down and wounding their game, releasing them for a few moments in a cruel display of feigned mercy, allowing them to believe they had a chance.

Allowing them to run straight for Yagyuu, the final threat, lying in wait.

Yagyuu did not toy.

Yagyuu went straight for the kill, in a premeditated act of cynical euthanasia. What better kindness afforded a defeated opponent than simply ending their suffering? His 'Laser Beam' bereaved the opponents of their vitality with ease.

With a sweet, "Adieu," he slit their throats, posthumously wiping the knife on the victim's death shroud.

The first time the two of them had been assigned to play a match against one another was something neither would ever forget.

Yagyuu held out his hand in greeting, coolly analyzing Nioh's face. Nioh sauntered up, leaning in to peer at Yagyuu through his glasses.

"I've seen you play," he mused. "You're not half bad."

"I could say the same for you, Nioh-kun," Yagyuu replied. The words were polite, but Nioh sensed more behind them.

"I think you're full of shit," Nioh shot back, smiling amiably.

"Thank you for your perspicacious assessment, Nioh-kun," Yagyuu replied politely again, as though Nioh had given him a lovely gift. His eyes sparked.

Nioh laughed softly. "You're a real comedian, Yagyuu-kun."

Yagyuu looked unimpressed, and adjusted his glasses. "Unless you would prefer to continue the small-talk, I would like to begin the match now, if you please."

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Nioh swiped the glasses from Yagyuu's face, leaning closer to stare directly into his eyes. Nioh's gaze betrayed the friendliness of his grin. After a moment, he folded the glasses neatly and slipped them into Yagyuu's breast pocket, jabbing his index finger pointedly into Yagyuu's chest.

Yagyuu disliked being touched, especially in such a crude manner. His resolve to not back down from Nioh's gaze, however, was stronger than his desire to grab the boy disdainfully by the wrist and remove the offending finger.

"I want to see your real game," Nioh said, in a volume loud enough for only Yagyuu to hear. His smile widened, but his eyes were sharp.

For an instant, Yagyuu's facade cracked, but he recovered quickly. His carefully constructed mask slid back into place as he took the glasses from his pocket, placing them neatly back on his face.

"It would be my pleasure."

If looks could kill, Nioh was fairly certain he would have dropped dead at that moment.

As they began their game, Yagyuu's face was stoic, but his eyes flashed behind his glasses.

Nioh had two primary methods of attack, on the court. He frequently alternated between the two, depending on the responses and strengths of his opponent. The first method, which was generally most useful for tentative, unsure opponents, was to go straight for the throat. With his extraordinarily sharp insight and intuition, Nioh found it relatively simple to frustrate and confuse an opponent by always being in the perfect spot to return whatever ball they might hit. They often got careless and wild, simply trying to hit any shot they could possibly think of that he could not predetermine.

The method wasn't foolproof, but it was usually enough to cause his opponent to self-destruct quite quickly, leaving him free to toy with them as he wished and win the game with relative ease.

For those privy to Nioh's 'tricks', he was no one-shot wonder. For those opponents a little stronger, a little wiser, a little more cunning... Nioh had something special in store. He could begin with his usual method of attempting to break their focus, and switch mid-game, or he could apply this strategy from the start. Sometimes playing with an opponent only emboldened them, and in doing so, they fell directly into his trap.

Either way it began, when his strategy was in full swing, Nioh carefully 'allowed' himself to be manipulated by the opponent's play, always a step behind, keeping up just enough to stay in the game. Tailoring his shots to the abilities and reactions of his opponent, it wasn't terribly difficult to lull most into a false sense of superiority.

In such circumstances, it rarely failed that his opponent would eventually become too cocky, too self-assured, and too certain of their advantage. Nioh enjoyed plucking the notion from their fingertips like so much ripe fruit, devouring it before their eyes, leaving them dispossessed of the victory they so eagerly and prematurely awarded themselves.

The look in their eyes as they suffered bitter defeat tasted sweeter than anything.

Yagyuu was particularly vulnerable to neither of these strategies, and Nioh found enjoyment in the challenge.

Their play against each other was a veritable tug-of-war, neither side willing to give an inch. They fought for dominance, each aware of the other's tricks, and each waiting for a moment when the other would slip for a mere instant, allowing the opponent to grasp the advantage.

Yagyuu did not play his usual gentleman's game, showing his true colors early on. Not only was he aware that any tricks would be useless against Nioh, he had to begrudgingly afford the other boy a certain degree of respect for having the ability to cut through to the quick and lay bare Yagyuu's inner self.

Yagyuu won out in the end, but he had a feeling that Nioh, in seeing Yagyuu's true form on the court, had gotten exactly what he wanted out of the game and considered further play to be simply boring.

When they shook hands after the match, Nioh's face was again split in a feline grin, but this time his eyes matched. Yagyuu regarded him with little more than cool disinterest, but the pulse throbbing at his throat belied his true feelings.

Afterward, as Yagyuu was putting away his racket, Nioh trotted up behind him.

"Hey, Yagyuu."

Yagyuu did not look up or acknowledge Nioh, simply continued zipping up his racket bag. Nioh slithered around him, slapping a palm down atop Yagyuu's hand on the zipper. He gave a playful smirk, but Yagyuu was not fooled.

"Nioh-kun." There was ice in his voice, but fire in his eyes.

"Play doubles with me." Nioh returned Yagyuu's gaze with one of his own, making it abundantly clear that refusal was not an option.

Yagyuu coolly slid his racket bag from underneath Nioh's hand, hoisting the strap onto his shoulder. Nioh made no movement in protest, nor spoke. His eyes followed Yagyuu to the door, watching and waiting. His jovial expression had become a self-satisfied smirk.

Yagyuu turned at the door, adjusting his eyeglasses with an index finger.

"I look forward to it, Nioh-kun," he finally replied, his lips twitching ever-so-slightly at the corners.

Nioh thought it was the most frightening smile he'd ever seen.

From that moment, they were inseparable.