Mizuki's PoV comes up... eventually.
Dec. 30th, 2007 04:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kat8chaAkzawa twitched at Mizuki’s shriek.
He didn’t understand why Mizuki got to assign things like extra training, or doubles matches, or talk to you about your form, and all Akazawa got to do was order people to run laps. Though, occasionally, Akazawa would get called to Mizuki’s room for late night talks about the team. And then the late night talks would dissolve into…
“Akazawa!” Mizuki poked him hard in the side. Snapping to attention Akazawa ignored the amused snickers of the non-regulars and looked straight at the waiting Atsushi.
“Atsushi! 20 laps!”
Mizuki ground his heel into Akazawa’s toes, the taller teenager wincing. “25!”
Mizuki huffed, curling a strand of hair around his finger. Akazawa looked down at him, staring at that glorious pale expanse of skin hidden under the high collar of St. Rudolph’s jackets. “Stop staring, Akazawa. You’ll make the freshman nervous.”
The freshmen were already nervous around him, tall and orange opposing their small, scrawny, Tokyo pale bodies. Mizuki had created a short tempered figurehead to send out and wreak havoc among the team so he could trail behind and clean up Akazawa’s mess. The team belonged to Mizuki, no one doubted that.
“The freshman can go fuck themselves.” Akazawa muttered, shifting his grip on his racket before heading off to find Kaneda. Akazawa felt like dealing with someone nice and cowering right now.
As much as Mizuki owned everyone around him, Akazawa wished he owned Mizuki.
“Akazawa!” Mizuki poked him hard in the side. Snapping to attention Akazawa ignored the amused snickers of the non-regulars and looked straight at the waiting Atsushi.
“Atsushi! 20 laps!”
Mizuki ground his heel into Akazawa’s toes, the taller teenager wincing. “25!”
Mizuki huffed, curling a strand of hair around his finger. Akazawa looked down at him, staring at that glorious pale expanse of skin hidden under the high collar of St. Rudolph’s jackets. “Stop staring, Akazawa. You’ll make the freshman nervous.”
The freshmen were already nervous around him, tall and orange opposing their small, scrawny, Tokyo pale bodies. Mizuki had created a short tempered figurehead to send out and wreak havoc among the team so he could trail behind and clean up Akazawa’s mess. The team belonged to Mizuki, no one doubted that.
“The freshman can go fuck themselves.” Akazawa muttered, shifting his grip on his racket before heading off to find Kaneda. Akazawa felt like dealing with someone nice and cowering right now.
As much as Mizuki owned everyone around him, Akazawa wished he owned Mizuki.
