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1.
If it were anybody else, the Raven’s nest would have undeniably been a death sentence. For Nathaniel it meant freedom. Death lurked in the shadows of his Baltimore bedroom. More tellingly, it was hidden six feet under in his father’s basement. He could make do with three hundred miles.
Nathaniel wasn’t stupid, despite what most people said about the boy. He knew when to be quiet, when to speak, how to speak, and most importantly, how to get what he needed without drawing attention to himself. The scars that riddled his body were sure to multiply if he stayed home even another year. He wasn’t sure he’d survive another year.
No, he wasn’t an investment like Kevin was. Property or pet. He didn’t know which he hated more. At least now he knew that he would reach adulthood. His father’s deal got him into this mess but Ichirou’s promise to him would get him through it. If the Lord needed his butcher then butcher Neil could be.
The older Moriyama brother had gotten Neil farther than he thought possible. Had gifted him with nights tucked safely behind closed doors, the only weapon around being pillows they’d smacked each other with if they had shitty opinions on movie snacks. Riko’s animosity was palpable from the start. Nathaniel learned not to take shit from him. There would always inevitably be consequences. Might as well earn them.
Walking through the dark halls between his father and his men kept him on edge, however. Something was alive and burning beneath his skin. Waiting for its moment to be unleashed after ten long years buried deep under complacency and neutrality. Try as the little Moriyama might- he was no Nathan. Nathaniel had his chance to figure out who he would be. He could be scary if he wanted to. Scarier than Riko ever could.
Or maybe, just a pain in his ass.
He had put up with enough taunting in prior years. Jealousy never really captured what he had felt for Kevin and Riko. Growing up in the spotlight and getting to play the game he loved so much, while Nathaniel only got to play occasionally–if he was lucky.
It was always, “ You’ll never be good enough .” Or, “ There is no place for you on the court .”
He simmered in silence while Nathan and Tetsuji met. Accepted Riko’s kicks under the table with no more than a pleasant smile and neatly folded hands. He was quiet while they put on the trademark Edgar Allen Raven’s uniform (nevermind how awfully strange it was that they had something in his size at all yet). Motionless while the adults laid out the plans for the future. Adults did that often. Talking and always assuming their secrets were safe in front of Nathaniel. Listening. Always listening. Learning. Adapting.
He swung his racquet experimentally as he waited for his turn on the court. It was heavier than his little league stick. Could probably cause a lot of damage if he felt like it. One good swing to the gut would get a man on the floor no matter how fast he was running.
His eyes drifted over to the other boys with the sharpie numbers on their faces. Riko had Kevin draw a “3” on his cheekbone in the locker room. It was supposed to be everything he could ever dream of. The incessant whine that Riko had off camera had Nathaniel a single button push away from biting both boys’ fingers off.
Riko seemed to like testing his luck on court as much as he did off court. The fast paced Japanese didn’t do anything to hide his few thoughts from Nathaniel. “Punishment” was a word he knew in every language.
That being said, exy came with its fair share of body checks, legal or otherwise. Fights were an expected part of the game. He wasn’t sure why Riko was so surprised when Nathaniel slammed into him full speed.
“My, oh my,” Nathaniel said as he snatched the ball out of the air, “I thought you’d be lighter on your feet after all the practicing you do.”
He counted his ten steps carefully, whipping around last second and shooting the ball at Kevin as he neared the goal. There wasn’t time to watch him score. Nathaniel was bright enough to know that knocking Riko to the ground wasn’t the best idea.
Apparently not bright enough to not coolly say, “No wonder Ichi doesn’t play with you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean,” Riko hissed through gritted teeth. He got up, leaning menacingly over his racquet, hand out to pause the game around them.
Nathaniel stopped in his tracks, tilting his head innocently. “Oh. You know.”
“I know what ?”
“You’re not as good as you think you are.” He knocked on his helmet. “A thirteen year old should be able to handle a ten year old as a mark.”
Riko crossed the court to reach him, curling his hand tightly around Nathaniel’s throat. In return, Nathaniel stepped on his toes to lessen the gap between them. He was immediately and forcefully pushed back. “You will learn respect. You will learn to obey me.”
“Why are you so obsessed with me?” Nathaniel’s face broke into a familiar grin. One he had learned and inherited from his father. He laughed, something akin to manic. “I can take a hit. You’re going to do whatever you want anyway. Will I get used to you or will you get used to me?”
He jumped away when Riko approached again. The game’s standstill was shattered by the shrill sound of a whistle. Tetsuji’s face remained impassive and Nathan was currently nowhere to be seen. Good. He could handle this. They’d get used to him being insufferable and they’d lower their standards for his behavior. And if that doesn’t work then maybe he could give scary a try. Who trusts elementary schoolers with knives anyway?
2.
Perhaps Nathaniel was as stupid as they said. In his defense, if there was anything kids were good at doing, it was being fucking annoying. His life had made a complete 180 without his father breathing down his neck every second of his life.
For all that he was, Riko wasn’t able to be in two places at once. He had duties to fulfill as the self proclaimed king and future captain of the Ravens. Kevin, bless his heart, divided his attention between the two the best he could.
There was always at least an hour or two per day where Nathaniel was relatively free to do whatever the hell he wanted. The longer he stayed, the longer the hours became. Riko had attempted to torture Nathaniel. Kicking and screaming and the whole nine yards. Unfortunately Nathaniel didn’t do that anymore. Reacting to Nathan was just bound to bring upon more pain. It seemed his screams would spurr Riko on the same.
It became apparent early on that Riko liked monologuing like the little villain he was. He spoke like he wanted everyone to stop and listen and be enthralled with his performance. Not that he ever had anything of substance to say. Nathaniel only really paid enough attention to be able to parrot back the general gist of his rambles.
Thus he had to find some other way to entertain himself. His favorite activity, as the youngest and smallest member of Castle Evermore, was asking people to bend down to talk to him. Nathaniel always said it's because he couldn’t hear them otherwise. If Riko didn’t stoop then Nathaniel didn’t listen.
It had originally been untying Riko’s shoes when he was forced to kneel that riled him up. Then it was hard body checks to retaliate for all the aforementioned torture. He always lost that privilege faster than the others. Never for long though. Riko was always sure he could take it after a week. He couldn’t.
Now Nathaniel was extremely dedicated to his craft. He was raised with a blade in both hands and he knew how to fight. So, when Riko decided it was time to lecture Nathaniel- to remind him that he wasn’t his own person- well what was Nathaniel to do other than correct him? How could Riko ever live up to his evil villain agenda if he couldn’t do it right?
“Keep your thumb out of your fist,” he laughed, “if you don’t, you might break it.” Nathaniel stumbled back into the wall. He gently cupped his cheek and tried to ignore the stinging sensation that came from the hit. “Not that you could hit me hard enough for it to matter.”
“Nathaniel,” Kevin hissed from his position by the door.
“You never shut up, do you?” Riko wound up his arm for another swing, only to end up ramming his shoulder into Nathaniel when his fist was caught in his hand.
“Did you learn this from me too? It reminds me of my checks.”
“You and your bony fucking shoulders could never teach me anything.”
“Maybe if you fucking gave me a break I wouldn’t be so bony, dumbass. I’m a growing boy.”
“You’re a dying boy,” Riko said as he pulled Nathaniel off the wall and forced him onto the floor.
Nathaniel tutted. “That is not your call to make. I don’t belong to you. I belong to Ichi.” He wheezed and held onto his side when Riko kicked him. “Not that you’d know. He doesn’t talk to you, does he?”
Riko paused. That wasn’t good. Nathaniel watched as Riko slowly dragged his eyes towards Kevin. “You are property. Are you a visual learner Nathaniel? Because there is somebody else we could practice on in the meantime if it would help to watch.”
Nathaniel acted on instinct. His hand was in Riko’s hair and his fist was colliding with his jaw before he even realized what he was doing. “Hey hey hey! That wasn’t part of the game. Pay attention.” He rocked side to side violently to make sure that Riko wouldn’t be able to get a stable grasp on his body. “If you’re hitting someone then hit me. Otherwise you’re leaving yourself vulnerable to someone who knows what they’re doing.”
As much as Nathaniel groaned and moaned and complained he was never going to let Riko lay a hand on Kevin. He would protect him with all he had. His stupidity was his own deal to manage and putting him in danger was never going to be part of the plan.
Riko managed to slam his head onto Nathaniel’s, watching him crumple to the floor beneath him. “Fine, if you want to be tortured so badly then so be it. Let Kevin count your screams, I don’t care.”
Nathaniel groaned when his foot collided with his ribs. “Try hitting with your toes, the side of the foot makes me think of soccer.”
Kevin swore under his breath. “Stop making things worse for yourself.”
“It would hurt more if he didn’t listen to my advice.” Nathaniel smirked as he grabbed his foot. Riko almost toppled over onto him. When his rough hands wrapped around his shoulders, Nathaniel smiled. “Goin’ down!”
Nathaniel was only eleven years old when Jean Moreau got enlisted to be the fourth member of the Raven’s perfect court. Yet, the only thing he could think was: You poor motherfucker .
Although he was the fourth to join, he was going to be the new Official Third. As he was older, he’d be part of the team first. Demoting Nathaniel himself to fourth. Not that Nathaniel minded. He was in no rush to join the team like that. Plus, being the spooky Japanese death number was cool. At least that’s what Ichirou told him. If he was being honest–which he rarely was–he wasn’t listening. He didn’t want to talk about Riko with Ichirou. He just wanted to play.
Unless it was Riko who wanted to play. That was less fun. Nathaniel wasn’t sure it even counted as play time, but what did he know?
Jean Moreau, from the looks of it, was scared shitless. It wasn’t supposed to be funny. It was a little funny. He was only thirteen and already nearing 6’. Long and gangly and undeniably French . It was Nathaniel’s birthright to hate him automatically for it.
He wondered if he could be the type to be swayed to Nathaniel’s side. Jean seemed to be the brooding type. Soft, pouty lips and stormy grey eyes. Ichirou had shown him enough movies for Nathaniel to have already compiled an entire list of things to tease him about. If he could push and pull enough he might be able to find out what edgy deep thoughts lurked in his mind. If he pulled harder he might be able to get him to say them out loud. Preferably angrily. To Riko. Or to Nathaniel. Starting arguments could be fun if you did it correctly. He’d say no hard feelings but emo boy beat him to it.
So Nathaniel sat and looked pretty beside the three older boys while the adults did their negotiations. Kevin already had his fingers entangled with Jean under the table, lightly brushing against his hand to let him know he was safe. An ally of sorts. Nathaniel did not wish pain on most people. Did not want Jean to be hurt. Had resigned himself to taking a beating for him too. Was still going to harass him. Lovingly. Like friends do.
He had to introduce him to Ichirou. For safety purposes. Not for taunting. A little bit for taunting. But mostly for safety!
Things quickly spiraled out of control when the children were made to take their leave. Riko had dragged them off to his makeshift dungeon. Makeshift only because they technically already lived in a dungeon, and more so because Nathaniel had been in a proper dungeon (with ventilation and everything).
Riko wanted to sink his claws into Jean as early as possible. “To show him who was boss”. Nathaniel wondered who that was because it certainly wasn’t Riko. It was difficult to keep his laughter from bubbling out of him. Worse because Riko was never funny on purpose. How the press considered him charismatic, Nathaniel would never know.
Nathaniel thought he had been good that day. Barely complained about the change in routine or jersey numbers and even let them draw a number 4 on his cheek without snapping his teeth. What was the point in being good if he still got punished? Nothing.
Nathaniel stood solidly in front of Jean- which in his mind was quite the sight as he was a foot shorter than he was- and let Riko go at him.
“Remember Nathaniel, you’re replaceable. Nobody will miss you when you’re gone. You’re nothing. You always have been and always will be nothing. You are only here because of me. Ichirou can’t bring dead people back to life and you’re a dead brat walking.”
He tapped his foot impatiently. More interested in watching his shoe charms jingle than listening to his speech. “Okay.”
“ Okay?” Jean asked slowly.
“What? He’s right.”
“I never thought I’d hear those words coming out of your mouth,” Kevin muttered.
“If I’m already dead- then he can’t kill me.” Nathaniel unsheathed a blade from under his uniform in one quick motion. He stepped forward to Riko and pointed it directly at his throat. “I could kill him right now then. And nobody would do anything about it. We can test that theory? Right?”
“When you go down, you’re taking these whores with you.” Riko gripped Nathaniel’s wrist, pointing the blade stiffly towards Kevin behind him. “You are a one man army, Wesninski. I have a million and one. Don’t think I won’t get daddy involved.”
Nathaniel shoved him hard. “You and what voice box?”
Jean pulled him back abruptly, causing Nathaniel to stumble. “You are not replaceable nor are you bartering off your life for pride.” His accent was thick and his words came out stilted. Awkwardly. Riko had already chastised him for speaking French and the damn bastard seemed to have the desire to follow the rules to the letter. What wasn’t specified can’t be held against him. Nathaniel was proud. A little bit of rebellion goes a long way.
“Just wait, young Moreau. Soon enough I’ll be jumping into your arms. A camera in my face and I’ll be recounting our beautiful weekend of eating shit and not doing my homework. Ichirou will send for us and you will learn he’s an amazing goalie. That I am great with a knife and I am indeed needed on this bitch of an earth. We’ll learn that Riko is also replaceable because what is the perfect court if not a bunch of replacements for him that get better and better? And! Most importantly. You’ll find out why I’m destined to be the fastest player in Class I exy!”
Nathaniel squirmed out of his hold and booked it down the hall. Laughing all the way.
Andrew Minyard was bored. This was a common state of being for him, even (perhaps especially) when playing Exy. As he listlessly guarded the goal, his mind and eyes wandered: this team wasn’t even getting close to the goal. Thank you, Aaron , he thought. His brother still resented him for his mother’s death and Andrew’s subsequent DIY rehab.
As he glanced around, he saw a strange and unusual sight. The game was packed with people in the two schools’ colors, green and white for Andrew’s team and blue and gold for the rivals. And yet, standing as close to the court as they could get without walking through the plexiglass wall, were four figures dressed in all-black. Two were rather tall, and two were rather short. The shortest of them had bright red hair, visible from across the court. Andrew suppressed a slight gasp (and wasn’t that something, a reaction from Andrew Minyard ) as he realized: this was the fabled Perfect Court.
After the game (which they won, many thanks to Andrew), the two Minyard brothers, fresh and clean from the showers, were prowled up to by a very smug-looking Riko Moriyama. To be fair, a smug-looking Riko was the only sort of Riko Andrew was aware existed. It seemed to be his natural state of being.
“Andrew Minyard,” he intoned, as though he were some sort of mountain oracle. The two tall dudes flanking him–Kevin Day on his right, also looking smug, and Jean Moreau on his left, looking somewhat Moreau-se–fixed Andrew with steely gazes.
“That’s me,” Andrew said, smiling as blandly as he knew how. Aaron glanced at him, rolled his eyes sulkily, and walked out to where Nicky was surely waiting, definitely dressed in a St. Patrick’s Day in an Irish pub anywhere in the US level of green.
“We’ve noticed you,” Riko said. Kevin nodded his head solemnly. After what appeared to be an elbow in the ribs, Jean hastily nodded as well. “We think–”
“Oh for the love of God get on with it!” another voice burst out. Floppy red curls bounced over Jean’s shoulder as the owner of the voice jumped up behind him. Realizing that he wouldn’t even be able to get his chin over the backliner’s shoulder using that method, Nathaniel Wesninski (for it was he) decided instead to hop on Jean’s back, wrapping somewhat disproportionately long legs around his waist and muscular arms around his neck.
“Oof,” said Jean, and then, “Gak!”
“Sorry, Jean,” the redhead stage-whispered, lowering his hands to fit more around Moreau’s collarbones. He shifted his legs a bit as well, wiggling until Jean sighed and grabbed onto his thighs.
“Nathaniel!” Riko said sharply. “Get back in the car before I make you .”
Nathaniel rolled his eyes. “You haven't been able to make me do anything since we were 10.” Riko hissed something in Japanese that made Kevin and Jean turn pale, but Nathaniel just laughed.
“Anyway!” Nathaniel said, clapping his hands and almost catching Jean’s nose between them, “I came up here to say: hurry it up, Riko! I want to go buy some genuine South Carolina peaches before we go home.”
“You weren’t even invited,” Riko grumbled, then straightened up and fixed his gaze on Andrew once more. Andrew was busy looking at Nathaniel–the littlest Raven was cute . With icy blue eyes that seemed to stare right through him, and perfectly toned muscles, he was definitely hotter than any of the boy band members the girls at school liked to gush over.
“Minyard!” Riko said sharply. With a start, Andrew realized he had been zoning out and that that definitely wasn’t the first time Riko had called his name. Andrew turned slowly to look back at the head Raven and his insufferable tattoo. Nathaniel pulled it off remarkably well, but even he looked a little silly.
“You were saying?” Andrew drawled. Riko puffed up his chest. “I was saying that I–” Nathaniel kicked him in the side, “– we would like to recruit you for the Ravens.”
Andrew thought about it for a second. He probably would have said no, if it were just Riko and Kevin, or even Riko, Kevin, and Jean. Yes, Nathaniel was very hot, but that wasn't the only thing. The way he stood up to Riko made Andrew curious. He had seen how Kevin would hold back in games and how in Perfect Court Scrimmages™️ that sometimes played on ESPN, Jean wouldn't play to his full potential, instead letting Riko score. But Nathaniel never did that. He gave as good as he got. And it seemed that he stood up to Riko off the court as well.
“Sure,” said Andrew. “I'll sign.”
5.
It was time for the annual NCAA Exy Fall Banquet, and Foxes Team Captain Danielle Leigh “Dan” Wilds was nervous (not that she’d ever admit it aloud). They were starting their season off strong, and had ended last year well too, for that matter, but the other college Exy teams still looked down upon the Foxes. Although Janie, Alex, Stefan, and Chris were meshing well with the rest of the team, Janie was still worrisomely timid and withdrawn. Dan had taken to surreptitiously glancing at Janie’s inner arms whenever they were changing out or doing drills without gear. None of the cuts had been fresh so far. It appeared that her hospital stay in May, followed by two therapy sessions a week with Bee, plus meeting with a support group at Reddin, was helping her at least a bit. Janie’d definitely come out of her shell a lot since they’d first met her for summer practices in June. She was closest with Katelyn and Renee (the two team goalies) which wasn’t surprising, as they were definitely the nicest of the Foxes. The other freshmen–Alex, Stefan, and Chris– were less to worry about, as they seemed to basically be different iterations of the same person.
Dan scanned the room, looking for where her team would be sitting. Her heart sank as she saw the black banner hanging across from their signature orange. The Ravens.
Now, Dan would never shy away from admitting that the Ravens were at least one of the best teams in the league. She personally preferred the Trojans, but that was because they were the Trojans ! How could you not like them? Yes, the Ravens–skill and technique-wise–were amazing. But they were just so goddamn mean .
“Hello, Hennessy ,” Riko sneered. “I hope you didn’t spend too much time getting dressed . It’ll all come off eventually, or so I’ve heard.” Case in point. But then–
“Shut up, Riko,” said the redhead beside him. Riko whipped his head around and glared.
“No, you shut up, Nathan ,” he said poisonously.
“Fuck you!” said the ginger (Nathan?) standing up, ready to fight. He was very short. “You wanna fucking go? Don’t talk to her that way!”
Dan was aghast. Also very happy. Her past didn’t bother her, much. She just did what she had to do to survive, and it hadn’t been a wholly negative experience. It was, after all, how she met her stage sisters. However, when creeps like Riko acted like she owed them something, it did fucking hurt.
The redhead turned her way. Wow, she really did tower over him in her heels. She looked down at his face and GASP! That was no ordinary Raven! It was Number 4, Nathaniel Wesninski, one of the best backliners in the nation, even though he was only a freshman!
“Danielle Wilds,” he said, holding out a hand.
She took it.
“Nathaniel Wesninski,” she replied.
He grinned at her then, sudden and fierce. “Ha! I told Jean you’d know my name! You’re my favorite captain, you know? Keeping a close eye on the competition? Actually learning other team’s members’ names? Cough cough, Riko ?”
“I know all the names of all the Exy players!” Riko protested.
“Um, clearly not?” Nathaniel said. “Because you did not get Dan–can I call you Dan?–’s name right in the slightest. Back me up here, ‘Drew.” A carbon copy of Aaron slid lazy hazel eyes up to meet Nathaniel’s blue ones. What the actual fuck, Dan thought, then, I should not say that aloud.
“What the actual fuck,” Dan said aloud. The other Foxes had congregated behind her, and her sentiment was echoed.
“Aaron Michael Minyard,” Nicky said, “did you seriously not tell anyone about your identical twin brother ?!”
“Nicholas Esteban Hemmick,” Aaron said, “you’re the chatty one! Are you telling me you told them about my Midwest emo phase but not my identical twin brother ?”
“The Midwest emo phase naturally came up in conversation! I thought they already knew about Andrew from you! It’s a fun fact!”
Andrew watched their frantic conversation with disinterest. Finally, he spoke. “Hello, Foxes. I’m Andrew Minyard, Aaron’s identical twin brother .”
“Did you have a Midwest emo phase too, Andrew?” Katelyn asked curiously.
“No,” said Andrew. “I am a self-respecting coastal man.”
Riko crossed his arms over his chest, grumpy that he was not the center of attention.
Finally, it seemed that he thought of something new and bothersome to say. “Ravens do not have phases , anyway. Exy is far more important than any striped sweaters and arpeggiated melodies.”
“Hm,” said Nathaniel. “It’s weird that you know that.”
Riko scowled and said nothing. Dan tried picturing him listening to music and could not. But, if she had to choose a genre, he did seem to be stuck deep in an emo phase overall.
“Anyway,” Riko said. “Ravens do not have phases because we are coordinated to a T. Or rather, an R, for Ravens. We practice hard and work together, unlike you foolish Foxes.”
“You didn’t get to see us walk in!” Nathaniel cried, smacking his forehead. “Oh, that’s tragic ! We practiced so hard! Everyone, up, let’s do it again for the Foxes!” He made as if to stand up again, and a few of the Ravens followed. Jean yanked Nathaniel back down.
“We are not doing that again. It is already humiliating enough,” he hissed in his beautiful French accent. Nathaniel stuck his tongue out at him. Dan was surprised at the fondness on the tall backliner’s face. She’d met him before, of course, but the only expressions she’d believed him capable of making were ones of scorn and haughty disdain for lesser teams.
Riko glowered, somehow managing to hit every single player in a fifty-foot radius with the full faux-charismatic and petulant pout that made reporters swoon and everybody else cringe. How fans could ever fall for his charm, Dan would never know. Nathaniel just laughed.
+1.
“Number 4!” Riko shouted, barging into Neil’s room.
“What time izzit?” Neil grumbled.
“It doesn’t matter,” Riko said harshly, brandishing a knife.
“Ooh, a knife,” Neil said dully. “So scaaary. You still don’t hold it right.”
“I can still cut you up with it though.”
Neil yawned. “Riko, isn’t it a little embarrassing that regardless of how many wounds you give me, I’m still faster than you on the court?”
Riko ground his teeth. “Get up, now .”
“Noooo,” Neil whined exaggeratedly. “Five more minutes–scratch that,” he exclaimed, looking over at his custom Raven-time clock. “It’s fucking 3 am!”
“Come with me, now ,” Riko bellowed. “That’s an order.”
“Nope,” Neil said, closing his eyes again.
“Fine.” Riko stalked over to the bed. As soon as he put one knee down on the mattress and touched the blade to Neil’s face, he was thrown off roughly by a powerful force, resulting in him hitting his head on the stone floor. It happened quicker than he could process. As he staggered away defeated, with a definite concussion, he wondered: how had Nathaniel done that? He hadn’t even moved from his cozy lying-down position.
Back in the bedroom, Andrew wrapped his arms around his boyfriend once more. Neil twisted in his grip to face him and kiss his forehead. “Thank you,” he said. “You were amazing.”
Andrew just grumbled. “Just go back to sleep, Neil.”
Neil did.