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Title: running on the high wire (mafia-verse)
Characters: reiko takazuki, izumi suzuki (izuko kataro)
Summary: izuko and reiko have finally snapped and so they disappear along with the rest of the air team to form a rogue assassin's group. this is the beginning of the end, the moment of true tragedy. izuko and reiko have to decide how to get out of this mess they made with their own lineage and the rest of the girl have to choose whose side they really are on.
Warning: if izuko's piano teacher reminds you of a certain german prosecutor from a certain video game, it's because i couldn't stop thinking about him and decided to go with it. also canon verse/mafia verse spoilers.
Rating: PG-13 ; character death
Author's Notes: i was kind of inspired by an ace attorney mafia-au doujin. here there are no holds barred.
Fujiwara Reina merely wanted to adhere to rules and stick with tradition.
Takazuki Reiko wanted only justice, and nothing else.
Suzuki Izumi wanted to break from the system in any way possible.
---
As seven year olds, Reiko and Izumi knew nothing but of each other, of frilly lace and how to step around puddles, of clear blue skies and warm biscuits. It was nice, living the lavish life, but Reiko was the type who was born with a sense of adventure and Izumi was shy. They were an unlikely pair but there would oftentimes be one too many a scolding and a plea to be more ladylike from Takazuki Hanako and one too many urges to speak up from Suzuki Sayoko.
The first day the two girls were separated, Reiko was carted away kicking and screaming by her mother, away to art class. Nowadays, Reiko laughs at the thought. Izumi, on the other hand, started her lavish career as a child prodigy by being put in front of a piano and asked to play. When Suzuki Sayoko was met with blank stares, as if the child was supposed to learn by herself, a piano teacher was called in the next day.
Izuko can’t recall much about him except for blue eyes, blond hair, and that accent. When the demon Ariadne had boasted, all those years ago, that she knew Izuko had fallen in love with a boy from her childhood, everybody had thought the demon meant Watanabe Boriji, Izuko included. Sometimes now, she wonders if Ariadne had truly penetrated the deepest secrets in her emotional sanctity.
“Once a week,” Suzuki Sayoko remarked, “you will receive lessons from this young man. He is the son of our German piano merchant.” Her English was heavily accented; the words fell on Izumi’s ears but somehow they didn’t register.
“I will turn the little darling into a prodigy, don’t you worry,” the young man gave a coy wink and then turned his attention to quiet Izumi, who looked almost too scared to touch the keyboard. Sayoko only huffed and disappeared down the corridor, leaving Izumi and the German piano teacher alone.
Izuko tries to remember his name, but when she tries, she can only remember his voice.
As weeks passed, then months, to almost a whole year, Izumi has certainly made a lot of progress. From little melodies to toccatinas and sonatinas, to concertos and sonatas and fugues, Izumi could only remember a flurry of applause, of black and white, of flowers shoved in her arm and finally those kind blue eyes and sweet smile.
“You did well, schatzi, lovely as always.”
He was always temperamental, always patient. Plus, Sayoko had battered enough rules into Izumi such that she was too scared not to practice a piece to perfection. When she messed up, she would stutter furiously and get so angry with herself, but the piano teacher (goddammit, Izuko thinks, what the hell was his name?) would only smile, pat her hand, and mutter poor, poor, schatzi. Music is not perfection.
The last afternoon a ten year old Izumi saw him alive, it was cold and blustery and the piano was out of tune. He had taught her Chopin’s Revolutionary Etude, which was difficult in technicality but even harder to master in spirit. They had wrapped up early, Izumi shivering beneath a borrowed jacket, drinking tea, staring out the window.
“Schatzi,” Izumi always liked it when he called her by the pet name, and even now Izuko tenses and shudders into Boriji’s gentle touch when he calls her darling. “I want you to know that no matter what happens, you are a genius and you will go far. But please, schatzi, don’t let the fame get to you. Do not become Izumi Suzuki, the pianist. Instead, become Izu – something else, something that you want to be.” At that moment, two of Suzuki Hiroomi’s men barged into the room and dragged the German piano teacher away. Izumi sat there, still in his jacket, frozen and frightened.
“Liebling,” that was a new nickname, she realized, “remember music is not perfection! Remember that music is breaking all the rules, and you must lead the revolution! Finish that Chopin, no matter what happens to me, finish the etude, the revolution, schatzi!” With that, the doors slam shut and within minutes, a gunshot rings through the manor.
Izumi keeps the piano teacher’s jacket folded under her desk. She doesn’t take it out until ten years later, when she has a new name and a renewed spirit. Reiko doesn’t know.
Later that day, Izumi crept towards her father’s office, praying for the best, but expecting the worse. Kurata Jun, the father of Kurata Satoshi, sees the little girl and crouches down, patting her on the head. He was sympathetic, and often quite fond of the girl. Satoshi, on the other hand, was a loner.
“The boy – that pianist, he was a mole, you know? Spying on the yakuza can cost you your life, little flower. I’m sorry that you had to see this.” Izumi had no idea what he meant until he walked away, and she could see glimpses of blood splattered on his dress shirt, golden hair matted with red, and wide, cold blue eyes. He was no longer smiling.
Izumi couldn’t remember screaming, nor passing out, but when she woke up, she was in her own bed with Reiko’s amber eyes staring, worriedly, and her small hand covered by other small, but very much alive ones. Reiko still doesn’t know what had gone on. Izuko doubts she had forgotten, but she never brings it up.
---
Two months later, Watanabe Boriji leaves for Germany. He says his parents want to know how a Steinway works so they can copy the design, but that sounds more like forgery and deceit and suddenly, it all comes rushing back with blood and dirtied blond hair and dead blue eyes and liebling and schatzi, start the revolution. Izumi fears for Boriji’s life, but she also fears for her own sanity and so she cuts off all contact with him and cuts her hair. Reiko does the same but it seems like she’s doing it for fun while Izumi does it because she doesn’t want this life anymore.
Five months later, Suzuki Izumi is a legend while Kataro Izuko is a ghost. If she had to keep up two personas, they couldn’t both be sustained to the fullest. Boriji doesn’t recognize Izuko when he first passes her but he does recognize Reiko immediately, what for all her righteousness and charm. When he first confronts Izuko, she gives him the cold shoulder and turns her back. He calls her “sweetheart,” but it doesn’t work. “Kitty” worked for a short while, but the damn girl loved to play hard to get. He calls her “darling” and she snarls at him. There’s something in her kiss, days later, that tells him she doesn’t actually mean it.
After the situation with the rings and Yagami Ichiro, after all that and graduation, Izuko, Reiko, and the rest of the girls disappear without a word. The second button on Boriji’s blazer does too.
He thinks that she’s never forgiven him for leaving her all those years ago.
She only has lifeless blue eyes, a revolution, and darling, in her head.
Characters: reiko takazuki, izumi suzuki (izuko kataro)
Summary: izuko and reiko have finally snapped and so they disappear along with the rest of the air team to form a rogue assassin's group. this is the beginning of the end, the moment of true tragedy. izuko and reiko have to decide how to get out of this mess they made with their own lineage and the rest of the girl have to choose whose side they really are on.
Warning: if izuko's piano teacher reminds you of a certain german prosecutor from a certain video game, it's because i couldn't stop thinking about him and decided to go with it. also canon verse/mafia verse spoilers.
Rating: PG-13 ; character death
Author's Notes: i was kind of inspired by an ace attorney mafia-au doujin. here there are no holds barred.
Fujiwara Reina merely wanted to adhere to rules and stick with tradition.
Takazuki Reiko wanted only justice, and nothing else.
Suzuki Izumi wanted to break from the system in any way possible.
---
As seven year olds, Reiko and Izumi knew nothing but of each other, of frilly lace and how to step around puddles, of clear blue skies and warm biscuits. It was nice, living the lavish life, but Reiko was the type who was born with a sense of adventure and Izumi was shy. They were an unlikely pair but there would oftentimes be one too many a scolding and a plea to be more ladylike from Takazuki Hanako and one too many urges to speak up from Suzuki Sayoko.
The first day the two girls were separated, Reiko was carted away kicking and screaming by her mother, away to art class. Nowadays, Reiko laughs at the thought. Izumi, on the other hand, started her lavish career as a child prodigy by being put in front of a piano and asked to play. When Suzuki Sayoko was met with blank stares, as if the child was supposed to learn by herself, a piano teacher was called in the next day.
Izuko can’t recall much about him except for blue eyes, blond hair, and that accent. When the demon Ariadne had boasted, all those years ago, that she knew Izuko had fallen in love with a boy from her childhood, everybody had thought the demon meant Watanabe Boriji, Izuko included. Sometimes now, she wonders if Ariadne had truly penetrated the deepest secrets in her emotional sanctity.
“Once a week,” Suzuki Sayoko remarked, “you will receive lessons from this young man. He is the son of our German piano merchant.” Her English was heavily accented; the words fell on Izumi’s ears but somehow they didn’t register.
“I will turn the little darling into a prodigy, don’t you worry,” the young man gave a coy wink and then turned his attention to quiet Izumi, who looked almost too scared to touch the keyboard. Sayoko only huffed and disappeared down the corridor, leaving Izumi and the German piano teacher alone.
Izuko tries to remember his name, but when she tries, she can only remember his voice.
As weeks passed, then months, to almost a whole year, Izumi has certainly made a lot of progress. From little melodies to toccatinas and sonatinas, to concertos and sonatas and fugues, Izumi could only remember a flurry of applause, of black and white, of flowers shoved in her arm and finally those kind blue eyes and sweet smile.
“You did well, schatzi, lovely as always.”
He was always temperamental, always patient. Plus, Sayoko had battered enough rules into Izumi such that she was too scared not to practice a piece to perfection. When she messed up, she would stutter furiously and get so angry with herself, but the piano teacher (goddammit, Izuko thinks, what the hell was his name?) would only smile, pat her hand, and mutter poor, poor, schatzi. Music is not perfection.
The last afternoon a ten year old Izumi saw him alive, it was cold and blustery and the piano was out of tune. He had taught her Chopin’s Revolutionary Etude, which was difficult in technicality but even harder to master in spirit. They had wrapped up early, Izumi shivering beneath a borrowed jacket, drinking tea, staring out the window.
“Schatzi,” Izumi always liked it when he called her by the pet name, and even now Izuko tenses and shudders into Boriji’s gentle touch when he calls her darling. “I want you to know that no matter what happens, you are a genius and you will go far. But please, schatzi, don’t let the fame get to you. Do not become Izumi Suzuki, the pianist. Instead, become Izu – something else, something that you want to be.” At that moment, two of Suzuki Hiroomi’s men barged into the room and dragged the German piano teacher away. Izumi sat there, still in his jacket, frozen and frightened.
“Liebling,” that was a new nickname, she realized, “remember music is not perfection! Remember that music is breaking all the rules, and you must lead the revolution! Finish that Chopin, no matter what happens to me, finish the etude, the revolution, schatzi!” With that, the doors slam shut and within minutes, a gunshot rings through the manor.
Izumi keeps the piano teacher’s jacket folded under her desk. She doesn’t take it out until ten years later, when she has a new name and a renewed spirit. Reiko doesn’t know.
Later that day, Izumi crept towards her father’s office, praying for the best, but expecting the worse. Kurata Jun, the father of Kurata Satoshi, sees the little girl and crouches down, patting her on the head. He was sympathetic, and often quite fond of the girl. Satoshi, on the other hand, was a loner.
“The boy – that pianist, he was a mole, you know? Spying on the yakuza can cost you your life, little flower. I’m sorry that you had to see this.” Izumi had no idea what he meant until he walked away, and she could see glimpses of blood splattered on his dress shirt, golden hair matted with red, and wide, cold blue eyes. He was no longer smiling.
Izumi couldn’t remember screaming, nor passing out, but when she woke up, she was in her own bed with Reiko’s amber eyes staring, worriedly, and her small hand covered by other small, but very much alive ones. Reiko still doesn’t know what had gone on. Izuko doubts she had forgotten, but she never brings it up.
---
Two months later, Watanabe Boriji leaves for Germany. He says his parents want to know how a Steinway works so they can copy the design, but that sounds more like forgery and deceit and suddenly, it all comes rushing back with blood and dirtied blond hair and dead blue eyes and liebling and schatzi, start the revolution. Izumi fears for Boriji’s life, but she also fears for her own sanity and so she cuts off all contact with him and cuts her hair. Reiko does the same but it seems like she’s doing it for fun while Izumi does it because she doesn’t want this life anymore.
Five months later, Suzuki Izumi is a legend while Kataro Izuko is a ghost. If she had to keep up two personas, they couldn’t both be sustained to the fullest. Boriji doesn’t recognize Izuko when he first passes her but he does recognize Reiko immediately, what for all her righteousness and charm. When he first confronts Izuko, she gives him the cold shoulder and turns her back. He calls her “sweetheart,” but it doesn’t work. “Kitty” worked for a short while, but the damn girl loved to play hard to get. He calls her “darling” and she snarls at him. There’s something in her kiss, days later, that tells him she doesn’t actually mean it.
After the situation with the rings and Yagami Ichiro, after all that and graduation, Izuko, Reiko, and the rest of the girls disappear without a word. The second button on Boriji’s blazer does too.
He thinks that she’s never forgiven him for leaving her all those years ago.
She only has lifeless blue eyes, a revolution, and darling, in her head.
Current Mood: bouncy
Current Music: let it go | demi lovato
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