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0zrockbitway · 6 years

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@producktions & @suzunofuusuke here is ibumana first dinner with manabe parents

im dying y’all

It feels as if he can't breathe, the air around him was getting thinner and thinner. Time seemed to be moving at an agonizing slow rate and the sound of the clock ticking seemed to boom with every passing second. Manabe gulps. His mouth feels terribly dry and he fears that he's sweating even in this cool home of his.

The moment the door bell rings, Manabe nearly jumps out of his skin. Eyes immediately dart to the clock, the sound of it going back to its usual volume now. It was five minutes until seven. His guest had arrived perfectly on time, not too early and not too late.

"I'll get it!" He shouts before either of his parents could do the same. He wanted to be the one to answer the door, he had to.

A breath that was held is let out, his hand that had been nervously fiddling with his tie drops to his side. Losing the feeling of something to play with, something to distract himself with, makes him begin to feel even more anxious than before.

His feet feel heavy but he manages to nearly dash to the door. Manabe isn't one to run inside his own home, but he'll make the exception this time. There's a pause as he stand before the door. Another breath is taken. Exhaled. A shaky hand reached for the knob, twisting and pulling it open.

Behind the door stands Ibuki, hands resting on his hips. His eyes had gone straight to Manabe once the barrier between them had opened. Manabe takes in the sight at how different he looks. There was an attempt at slicking his hair back, it hadn't worked that well, he guessed that Ibuki just wasn't used to it. His headband was nowhere to be seen and his casual attire had been replaced with a navy button up and dark slacks.

(Manabe thinks for a quick moment how out of place he looks and wonder if the team would be surprised to see him so dressed up. He wishes he had time to mull over it.)

The defender's mouth opens, attempting at a greeting for the other, but only a small noise escapes. A moment of fear strikes to the thought of losing his voice. He couldn't have. He had just spoken seconds ago (that was beginning to feel like minutes now). It had to be his nerves. That's it.

Before he can try to say hello again, he feels a hand taking his. It's a tight grasp, but gentle, warm. It causes Manabe's gaze to focus on their hands before looking up to Ibuki. He was wearing that serious expression, unfazed by the current event about to unfold. He takes one step forward, hand squeezing Manabe's; there's a gentle look in his eyes.

"It's okay," Ibuki says.

And for a fleeting second, he truly believes it.

Manabe gives him a weak smile, its slightly forced and doesn't last long. He has to clear his throat, fight off those nerves, hope his voice doesn't crack the moment he tries to speak again. If only he could embrace Ibuki right now, that would help more than anything.

"Let's go inside. I need to introduce you…" Manabe says quietly.

With another supportive squeeze from Ibuki, he's able to move from the entrance. He doesn't need to tell Ibuki anything about his home, about his social status. He knew from being on the same team and knew from previous visits. It's nothing to gawk about anymore, but Ibuki still finds his eyes trailing over the expensive paintings set upon display in the hall, the priceless artifacts his parents had gained through their travels in the living room.

He wonders how his parents got their hands on them. He'd never asked, he only liked to look and ask what the hell they were. He could ask tonight, but isn't sure if that would make for a good first impression. Eyes gaze back to Manabe and he has to think if he should be more worried about this to. But everything would be fine, he firmly believed. What could possibly go wrong at this dinner with his parents?

Manabe manages to lead Ibuki into the kitchen. Seated on one side of the table is his father, his mother still working on the final touches for dinner. The moment they step in, his father's gaze settles upon them. Manabe, upon instinct- fear- drops Ibuki's hand as if he had just been caught in an illegal act.

"So," his father, Jinsuke, speaks, easily gaining attention of everyone in the room. "You're Ibuki Munemasa." A pause. He doesn't move from his seat. His eyes scan the taller boy beside his son. "The one Jinichirou is dating?"

"Yeah, that's me." It's an informal response, one that tries to cover pride with the truth.

Kyouko smiles at the two boys, a much different look given to them compared to Jinsuke. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you. Jin-can really enjoys spending time with you, or so we've heard." Ibuki can't help but glance over at his boyfriend who is desperately trying to find a way to cover the blush spreading on his cheeks to that comment. "So, it's nice to finally have a chance to speak with you. Sorry that I can't properly greet you."

"It's okay. Do you need help with the food?" Ibuki asks.

"Oh no, it's alright. Thank you for the offer but I can handle this. You two take a seat and I'll serve you in a moment."

Manabe tugs on Ibuki's sleeve, gaining his attention. He motions to the table with his head. Silently, he leads Ibuki over to their side of the table. Ibuki takes a seat across from Jinsuke.

It's quiet as they wait. The only sounds that can be heard are coming from the clock in the other room and the clashing of pots and utensils. Manabe's eyes are kept low, focusing on how to keep his breath steady and mind out of anything disastrous. He makes an occasional glance at Ibuki and his father. He bites at his lip when he notices his father's hard stare on Ibuki. It makes his hand curl up in his lap.

Ibuki catches the action out of the corner of his eye. Without a thought or fear from Jinsuke, he reaches out to put a hand over his clenched one. Manabe's head shoots up and eyes meet. Ibuki overs a small smile, an attempt to comfort him.

Neither pick up the hardening stare across the table.

"Dinner is ready!"

The sudden outburst from his mother startles him. Ibuki ends up patting his hand, holding back on a chuckle to his reaction. He pulls his hand away as Kyouko comes around to serve them both.

Ibuki has to stare at what's given to him. He feels like he's seen something like this before, but isn't quite to sure. It doesn't smell bad nor does it look burnt. It takes so much willpower not to lick his lips and start digging in as he likes. He's patient, waiting for a sign from Manabe. A single nod is all he needs before he can try this meal.

A fork digs into this mash. He doesn't bother to inspect it and stuffs it right into his mouth. He chews it, lets the taste flow over his tongue.

"This is good!" Ibuki nearly shouts, food still in his mouth.

It makes Kyouko chuckle. "I'm glad you like it. I wasn't to sure what to prepare for dinner. I was in France the other week and decided to try making one of their casseroles. Oh, I'm glad it came out alright."

"Would it be cool if I have seconds?" He asks, forgetting all about being polite and that his plate is still full.

"Of course! Finish up whats on your plate first, dear."

Ibuki nods and goes back to eating excitedly. Manabe is glad that it seems his mother likes him. It's his father he's worried about. He has yet to say a word, only silently eating and watching all this play out. The look on his father's face makes him lose his appetite.

"Ibuki." He states his name, causing the boy to stop in his frenzy of eating.

"Yeah?" His mouth isn't full this time when he speaks.

"I hope you don't mind me asking you some questions, do you?"

Papa, please, don't.

Manabe mentally begs. This was the part of the night he had been dreading. It was worse than his silent, judging gaze being cast across the table. He already knew the questions he was about to ask and how stupid they were. But knowing didn't stop him the tight feeling that was gripping at his chest.

(He really does wish that he could grab Ibuki and run away in this very moment. Eloping comes to mind and for once, that doesn't actually sound like a terrible thing.)

"Sure, go ahead," Ibuki replies calmly.

Jinsuke sets his utensils down on his plate. A moment of silent passes and Manabe swears that his world is about to come to an end.

"Can I trust you to make my son happy?"

"Huh?" Ibuki has to stop himself from responding with 'that's a dumb question'. "Of course you can." He grins, places a hand over his chest. "I'll make sure he's the happiest person with me. I know what he likes and I can make him smile. He's safe with me to- I'll protect him."

Manabe's face heats up. If he was telling this to him, just him while they were alone, he knows that he'd be in heaven. But not here, not now. Now with his father having no reaction.

"I've heard you have an interest in basketball. Are you intent on pursing that career?"

Papa, not this…!

"Well, yeah. I'm good at it. Schools already have interest in me for it. When I'm old enough, I'm going to join a team."

Jinsuke leaves no room for him to boast about his personal achievements.

"You are aware this is a career that will not last forever, don't you? What do you plan to do when the time comes? Professional basketball players do have a short career, those unlucky ones do. You must have some plans if that falls through."

The questions irk Ibuki. Manabe can see it. These were tough questions, ones he wasn't used to thinking about. Manabe was. It had been drilled into him for so many years. Ibuki didn't need to be going through this. Not now. He tries to do what Ibuki had done earlier, reach out and take his hand- his balled fist. But he can't find it in him to do so.

"I know it's not going to last forever," Ibuki replies. "I'll figure something out when the time comes. I don't need to have my whole life planned out."

Jinsuke's eyes narrow.

"You're going to need to if you insist on being with my son."

No, he doesn't. He doesn't need to do anything.

"I need to know that he can be with someone who won't pull him down."

He won't pull me down, he's never let me down before and he won't.

"He needs someone who can pull their own weight."

Papa…please, stop.

"Someone who won't be a liability for his future."

That's it.

"Papa, please! Leave Ibuki alone!" Manabe shouts, even going so far to slam his hands on the table as he gets to his feet. It was an action that had even caught him by surprise. He hadn't noticed until his eyes had opened, met with his father's. His body freezes, tenses up more than it ever had before. He could feel his mother's gaze on him, Ibuki's to. He tries to calm himself, regain his composure. He can't. (He didn't have much this night anyway.)

"This…is just dinner." Somehow he manages to speak, voice still shaky. He tries to keep steady eye contact with his father. He swears that tears are ready to prick and fall from his eyes. "We don't need to worry about all that for now."

Jinsuke crosses his arms and he knows that look already. That disapproving look. He's seen it so many times for not reaching perfection with his work.

"I taught you better than this, Jinichirou. You know not to bark like some dog at your own parents. Don't tell me you've learned this from-"

There's a sudden screeching noise, the sound of a chair being pushed back as Ibuki had gotten to his feet. There's an raging fire in his eyes as he glares to Manabe's father. "You shouldn't say that to him. He was looking out for me."

The worst thing that could happen tonight, happens.

Ibuki had spoken against his father, for him. He had interrupted him, even dared to look as if he were ready to fight this older man. God, if there was anything he wanted to do right now it was hide. Or go back in time and make up some damn lie about Ibuki being unable to attend this dinner. It would have kept him safe from his father.

"Even if you are saying this to look out for him, he's going to live his own life. You can't be in it forever. I can be there to help him. Whether you like it or not."

Munemana…

The room falls dead silent. No one moves. Time seems to go on far too long.

"I think you should go, Ibuki," his father speaks, not a hint of anger in his voice.

Ibuki stares at him before shrugging. He'll take his leave. "Thanks for the dinner."

Manabe, still standing, watches as Ibuki walks past him and out of the kitchen. He hears his father telling him to stay, but it just doesn't register. He's already in trouble, already disappointed him more than once tonight, he thinks. Besides, he needs to go to Ibuki, he needs to speak with him.

"I'm so sorry," Manabe breathes out once they're both at the door. "I- I know you agreed to this, but I shouldn't hav-"

"Jinichirou," Ibuki says softly. Hearing his name uttered in a gentle tone catches him off guard. A hand is placed on his shoulder and Ibuki simply stares. He can still see some lingering frustration in his eyes. He bites at his lip, wanting to just make him happy, to erase those bottled up feelings.

"It's not your fault. It's just. Whatever. You owe me for this," he says with a playful grin. "I'll text you when I'm home."

Ibuki stays for a moment, not wanting to leave Manabe to deal with this but not wanting to end up losing his temper over his old man. He decides to leave Manabe with a parting gift. The goalkeeper leans down, presses his lips against his forehead. He wants to kiss him, have their lips mash, but he's caused enough trouble tonight.

(The thought of kissing him in front of his father to piss him off is a tempting one that's for sure.)

Manabe grabs onto Ibuki after the kiss, hand clutching at the shirt that definitely doesn't suit him. His hand holds tightly onto the fabric and he presses his head against his chest. He feels bad for all this. It wasn't his fault, but it was. That's how he saw it. He feels a little less terrible when Ibuki's arms are around him.

"You should go," Manabe speaks, wishing he never said that. It's so hard to pull away from him. "I'll…I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah."

Parting hurts tonight. It hardly ever did. Manabe waits, watches him leave out the door. Even when it's shut and Ibuki's presence is no longer there, he just can't find it in him to go back to the kitchen. He doesn't have to. He's not even that hungry anymore.

With slow and silent steps, he begins to make his way to his room. The hall seems emptier than before and upon hearing another pair of footsteps, he comes to a halt. When he glances over, he's more than relieved to see his mother.

"Are you alright, Jin-can?" She asks, placing a hand on her son's back, rubbing it. There nothing but concern cast in her gaze.

"I…I'm fine, mama." He's not and it's fairly obvious but he really didn't feel like talking about what just happened right now.

"I don't think your father meant to be so…harsh on him. I think he just needs to warm up to him a little. We do both want whats best for you after all. I think Ibuki is a good person. I hope that your father will see that he is too."

Manabe looks to his mother with hopeful eyes. God, how he wished that he would. Things would be easier then. He wouldn't have to be so nervous, so riddled with anxiety every time he was brought up. If only he could see that Ibuki was a good person instead of forcing his values on him. Maybe one day he would.

"I hope so to, mama."

#producktions #suzunofuusuke #ibumana #dragon writings #TAG U BOTH SINCE TECHNICALLY #YOZA SAID PROMPT #but its for 30 day thing so uhhh #/lies down on this

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0zrockbitway · 6 years

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"Please, just talk to me..." GouenjixFudou?

send a number and a pair for a drabble

“Why did you come here?” It’s a blunt, strict question. Gouenji- Ishido, whatever the hell he wanted to go by these days, remains upon his seat, his throne, unmoving and staring down at the one who dared to enter his domain.

“Just came to see how your new place is,” Fudou responds with a nonchalant shrug. He didn’t like being here, surrounded by Fifth Sector and their stupid peons. Nothing here felt right.

He wasn’t supposed to be here, he knew. He’d been told countless times not to come here on his own, not to waltz in here to meet with him. But, what did he care? They should have known better than to leave him to his own devices.

His gaze rests upon the Holy Emperor, waiting for some type of response back. Fudou missed the little bark backs, but it didn’t seem like the other was interested in doing so. It left a weird feeling in his gut, he wouldn’t let it show.

“I doubt that’s the only reason you came.” Ishido shifts in his seat, crossing one leg over the other, his head resting against his knuckles. “You came for something else. It has to do with what’s going on, correct?”

Fudou clicks his tongue, shoves his hands into his jacket’s pockets. How the hell could he be so damn calm at a time like this? “Yeah, cuz everything is work related, isn’t it?” He spat out, rolled his eyes.

There was a flash of irritation in Ishido’s eyes. His old self was still there, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He knows, they both do.

“If you really have no business, then I suggest you leave.” It’s supposed to sound like a threat. Maybe it is one. A weak one.

Fudou would have laughed any other time the other would have said something like this. As if that was intimidating coming from him. Perhaps it worked on others, but it would never work on him. And to show it, he walks forward, up those steps to stand right before the Holy Emperor himself. He easily drowns out the gasping of his little henchmen, the demands that he should get away from ‘his holiness’.

Ishido doesn’t flinch, head only tilts up so their eyes can meet. Silence fills the air and it’s nauseating. Fudou’s fists clench and he glares at him.

“Please,” that’s silent, a whisper for only the emperor to hear, “just talk to me.” It’s a weak demand and he’s glad that no one else they know is around to hear his faltering voice. “Just tell me what the hell is wrong with you?”

His expression never wavers, but the look in his eyes do. It lasts only for a few seconds, but something is there, something familiar. It gives Fudou hope, hope that he could pull the other back and to his goddamn senses. But, it’s a fleeting light and he looses sight of it once his eyes shut.

“There’s nothing wrong with me. I’m fully aware of what I’m doing.” It’s such a cold, distant response- it pisses him off even more.

“Don’t give me that shit!” He barks and nearly stomps on his resting foot. “I know you and I know you wouldn’t have done this unless something happened to you.”

The room falls silence once again. A heated glare is only met with a cold gaze.

(Maybe they were right, Fudou thinks. Maybe he shouldn’t have come here.)

“Then perhaps you don’t know me that well,” Ishido says, cutting through the silence as he waves a hand. “Get him out of here.”

Hearing that leaves Fudou stunned. Emotions are boiling, swirling inside and he doesn’t know what to do. He’s so close to throwing a punch at the emperor, but is stopped as he feels hands on each of his arms. He instantly pulls himself free, not bothering to look at his little henchmen as he does so. He could see himself out of here.

“Don’t come crying to me when you regret all this.”

#suzunofuusuke #drabbles #Inazuma Eleven #goufu #gouenji shuuya #fudou akio #here you go!! its go verse #I HOPE ITS OKAY #sorry its uhhh angsty??

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