Sakon

Name:
LJ Username: Livejournal: my-hanzatsu
Age: 19
AIM Screename: meagnstxthemusic

Character's Name: Sakon
Character's Age: 22
Character's Model: Kamijo
Year in School: Junior
Major / Minor: Majoring in photography
Clubs / Activities / Job?: Photography club (if he has the time)

History / Biography: Though the boys were not literally born joined at the hip, they were inseparable until the age of nine. Anywhere Sakon went, Ukon tried to follow. He did a terrible job most of the time, having been born with a valvular defect in his heart that made him constantly tired. He ran out of energy quickly and often passed out as a boy. Stairs were even difficult when he was very young and he was left to crawl behind Sakon. In turn, however, whenever Ukon had to take a visit to the doctors Sakon would always go and hold hands for comfort. He was afraid his big brother would just disappear on him or turn to ash with a strong blow of the wind. They loved each other and were the best of friends.

Then, as the two got older, Ukon made more and more frequent visits to the ER and had more and more appointments with his doctor. There were more complications with his heart than the defect he had been born with, but within a few years they either went away or were fixed. Surgery. It did everything! Though he would never be free to run a marathon without having major heart surgery, Ukon was given the gift of living a comfortable life. By eleven-years old he was attending day school and making friends, leaving his brother behind. Sakon started to have outbreaks of rage around that time. Those kids were taking away his beloved brother! When he pitched a fit on the playground, their parents thought it was only a phase.

The twins continued through public school together until the eighth grade when Ukon contracted the flu. He could hardly move and began to fall behind in school. Even after he was cured of the disease he was left feeling broken. The family hired a tutor to take care of his education as he refused to leave the house in such a state. Sakon complained, tried to get him to go back to class with him, but the elder brother wasn’t budging. Hatred on his face, Sakon continued through normal school until he graduated two years ahead of his twin. Ukon said he didn’t care, he insisted it was great that Sakon was getting ahead in life, but neither really believed it. One was jealous, the other still sore from being forced into the real world. Why should it be that Ukon got to live a life of fantasy, mother waiting on him hand and foot while father worked his ass off to supplement the costs? And yet, why was Ukon the one that had to be sick in the first place? Couldn’t it have been someone else?

It would never be someone else. It would always be Ukon. And Sakon would always be the sibling cared about last. When he got sick “Aniki” was the only one that really noticed and he, sometimes even being ill himself, took care of his brother. They would always be a pair no matter the friends they made or the amount of times they were dragged to jail. On the occasion they committed acts of shoplifting, Sakon often was ticketed for speeding, and Ukon had once been taken in for drug use—he was left off easy because of his “condition.” Sakon had to be bailed out. Growing up was fun, they had good laughs, and now it was time to be an adult.

College. Sakon was going on his third year majoring in photography. It was an old hobby of his. Proof of such lay in a shoebox at the back of his closet with old, undeveloped rolls of film until digital camera became the new thing. The shoebox then grew full to contain rolls of film and many thumb-drives that stored hundreds of pictures on each. Each wall in his bedroom at the new apartment on campus ground had some shot he had taken or another, stuck up on the off-white walls in frames of various size. His favorite images were blown up to 16x20 and put into black metal, a few leaking into the main area of the apartment. Ukon didn’t mind, generally finding the pictures to be top quality. A bit obsessed, he had his old cameras on display on a shelf above his work desk. He didn’t do much other art, actually quite bad at painting or drawing.

Ukon’s room, on the other hand, was filled with old books and magazines. He loved reading. In the most recent years he began to learn English. It was a shaky adventure at first and he thought he did a piss-poor job at learning the language. Yet slow he caught on and found it rather interesting. When he finally caught up with school and “graduated” he decided to major in medicine and English. As he grew up in the hospital he had learned quite a bit about the tools, the on-goings. Fascinating. There were medical books and journals, English literature and biographies on the cases in his room. A calendar hung on the wall beside the door, each appointment to the doctors written in red marker so he never forgot.

There was also another calendar in the kitchen with the same markings so Sakon would always be aware. The last time he didn’t know about a doctor’s appointment he had nearly knocked over the television. He got a little bit violent once in a while, but Ukon was really the twin to look out for. As patient as he was…one did not make him angry. He was the kind of man that could get violent in a snap if he was easily pushed over the edge. Fortunately, few things actually bother him enough to cause him to get angry. Sakon gets pissed off enough for the two of them.

So here they are at the start of adulthood with college somehow in their future, friends to be had.

Third person writing sample: At a long, slender table in the back of the room sat Sakon. One arm lay upon the table, fingers twisting around the neckband of his camera, the other arm propped upon its elbow while his fist pressed against the right side of his jaw. If these people took any longer he swore he was going to drag them, one by one, by their matching ties. This photo session was never going to happen if his models took so long to get ready. Angrily he wondered if it was the dresser's fault because she was nit-picky about every little detail. He was too, but damn. Learn to do it in a timely manner! Or maybe it was the makeup artist's fault because she had made some mistake. Sakon wouldn't doubt it, though he didn't know her well enough to be sure if she was reliable. He was beginning to think she was not.

His pale eyes rolled and looked at the clock on the wall before down at the watch on his left wrist. Ten past the time they agreed to get started. That was not OK in his book; being impatient and easily angered did not make a very happy Sakon when things did not happen when he told them to. Pushing back the stool he was sitting in, grabbing his camera by the hand grip, he moved with long, determined strides out into the hall. For a moment he paused, looking left and then right with half-opened eyes. He was not amused to see empty space. He'd been hoping to see the girls strolling down the hall just then. It would have been nice. However, since there was no one, he'd have to take matters into his own hands.

Striding up the hall toward the female bathroom he huffed, tossed a lock of stray paling hair from his face, and threw his hand into the door. It swung open as he pushed, revealing a line of three girls at the sink sitting on it, waiting for makeup to be done or just chattering. When they saw him standing there in the entrance they screeched and filed out quickly, making way for the art studio they would be shooting in. Sometimes Sakon enjoyed the fact that he had people so far under his thumb that he didn't even have to say anything, but he liked the sound of his own voice.

"What the fuck were you all doing in there that took so friggen long? It's ten minutes past when I said I wanted to start. Now we're gonna run ten minutes longer because you couldn't hurry it up!" he shouted from the back of the train, glancing over his shoulder as two others, fellow art students given the job of costumes and makeup for this production, scampered up to his side.

"I had zipper malfunction," said one in a voice that sounded like a child's. Sakon shook his head and glanced at the other girl, Miss Makeup. Her lashes were huge and fake and she looked as though she had spent far too much time in the sun. Ganguro. Ugh.

"Niki got eyeliner on her upper eyelid. We had to wash it off!"

Not cute. These girls were not adorable and Sakon wanted nothing to do with them. When his volunteer models were in the art room he slammed the door and locked it behind himself, leaving the two girls in the hall with the image of his middle finger the last thing they saw before he pulled the blinds.

"Lets get this over with!" he called, his ladies getting into place. At least they were cooperative. It was a shame it only took one to ruin a lot.


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