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nakachuchu · 3 years

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One Bed | Okkotsu Yuuta

SYNOPSIS: There's only one bed.

READER: gender neutral

WORDS: 1007

WRITTEN: 03/19/2021

NOTES: Thanks for the idea, anon! Made me feel soft

You and Yuuta got sent out on a mission together. It was the norm for the two of you to work together.

Whenever the two of you were sent on missions together, the sleeping arrangements were hit or miss.

Sometimes, you slept in the same room with two beds, two separate rooms, or simply didn't sleep at all.

But this was the first time the two of you had one room and one bed to share.

It was the dead of night and the two of you were exhausted from the flight, even though you were used to not getting much sleep.

"Oh—"

His cheeks reddened and you bit back a smile at that. You dropped your bag to the floor and headed into the bathroom to pee and wash your hands.

Yuuta simply stood by the entrance the whole time, wondering how he was going to survive the night.

You walked out of the bathroom while drying your hands and looked at him.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

"W-Well, there's only one bed..."

"If it bothers you, I can sleep on the floor," you suggested.

"No, I don't want you to do that," he responded. "I can sleep on the floor."

"But I don't want you to do that either," you retorted. "I'm fine with sharing. Are you?"

"I—I don't really mind," he murmured.

"Cool!" you chirped. "I'm beat. We had a long day. I'll head into bed now. What about you?"

He nodded. "Y-Yeah, in a minute."

You briefly smiled at him before stretching and sliding into the bed while Yuuta placed his katana down and hurried into the bathroom.

His hands held onto the edges of the bathroom sink as he stared at himself in the mirror.

You trusted him way too much. It wasn't as if he was going to do anything to you, but you really should have been more careful.

There was no way he could sleep tonight despite how exhausted and sleep-deprived he was.

His pink cheeks stood out, especially with his dark eye bags and flaky complexion. He sighed and hung his head, silently cursing God for putting him in this predicament.

He washed his hands and splashed water on his face, letting the water drip down before he wiped it with the back of his hand and dried his face and hands with a towel.

He exited the bathroom and stood there for a moment, watching your body rise gently as you slept.

He walked toward the bed and cringed as he climbed into it, careful not to wake you up. He slipped under the covers and laid on his back, staring at the ceiling.

He was sure he would have been fine if it was Maki he was sharing a bed with. Mainly because she would have forced him to sleep on the bed anyway.

But with you, he was scared to even breathe. You deserved the sleep, and he felt that every small movement he made would risk you waking up.

It was painful having a crush on you because you never failed to make his heart race. Granted, it was usually because he was worried you'd get injured while fighting curses, but your smile easily made his heart skip a beat.

He had thought you were cute since the first time he met you, but it was your kind nature that made him like you.

You always made him smile and you always knew when he was having one of his bad days. You would give him time and space, respecting his boundaries until he was ready for talk.

You mumbled something incoherent and turned on your side, throwing a leg and an arm over Yuuta. Your head was tucked into the crook of his neck.

He could feel your soft breathing fanning on his exposed neck, sending a shiver down his body.

He was about to explode. He swore his heart was going to give out soon. If it was possible, his body tensed even more.

"Yuuta," you softly mumbled.

His eyes widened, thinking that you had caught him—caught him doing what? He wasn't even sure, but he felt guilty for even thinking about you.

But some part of him felt warm and soft that you were thinking about him in your sleep. A small flicker of hope sparked inside him and he closed his eyes, trying to fall asleep.

He would tell you he liked you tomorrow.

When Yuuta woke up, you were already up. You were eating the complimentary breakfast from the hotel while watching television.

"Good morning, Yuuta," you said through a mouthful of natto and rice before swallowing it. "I got you one too."

"Thanks," he said as he rubbed his eyes.

He got up from the bed and trudged into the bathroom to do his business. You could hear the water running before he came back out, looking more refreshed.

He sat next to you and grabbed a bowl of natto and rice, then dug in. The two of you ate in silence with the soft sounds of the television playing in the background.

“How'd you sleep?” you asked.

“Good,” he answered.

It was awkward for Yuuta. He could barely swallow the natto and rice because of how nervous he was. He was reciting how to tell you he liked you in his mind, but scrapped every idea. He decided to simply tell it straight.

"Y/N."

"Hmm?"

You glanced at him and noticed he was nervous, so you set down your bowl and faced him.

"I—I like you."

You froze for a moment, simply staring at him before you eventually tackled him to the floor. The bowl of natto and rice spilled out from his hands, clattering to the floor.

He fell to the floor as you hugged him with your head on your chest.

"I like you too," you mumbled.

"R-Really?"

"Mhm."

He let out a sigh of relief he didn't realize he was holding. His body loosened a bit.

"I'm glad," he said.

You smiled. "Me too."

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #Okkotsu yuuta x reader #sfw

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katyatalks · 5 years

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MP100 OVA Drama CD Track 8 - Episode 7: Breakfast - English Translation

The MP100 OVA Drama CD, titled “The first spirits and such company trip; The other side of a journey that mends the heart and heals the soul and such” comes with the blu-ray/DVD, and is officially described as a compilation of 1) conversations from the day before the OVA itself & 2) exchanges that aren’t depicted in the OVA. More info here! Here’s the translation of the eighth track, “Episode 7: Breakfast”! Characters: Mob, Ritsu, Serizawa, Reigen, Dimple, Teru

You can listen to this track from the masterlist!

MOB [As narrator]

This seventh story takes places during breakfast the following morning.

[BGM: birds chirping, SFX: door sliding]

MOB

(Yawning) Ah, I slept well… I feel great, I’m sure that’s in part thanks to the onsen… Ah, good morning, Ritsu! Did you sleep well, too?

RITSU

S-sure! Super soundly.

SERIZAWA

Everyone! Good morning! Woooow, it’s such a refreshing morning, isn’t it?

REIGEN

Yeah. It’s fantastic.

DIMPLE

You don’t look so good. You’ve got bags under your eyes, too.

SERIZAWA

Reigen-san… were you unable to sleep…?

TERU

Even though the futon was really soft and felt great to lie on…

DIMPLE

It’s because you sleep too much during the day… for someone who made a whole guidebook, you sure don’t have any planning ability.

REIGEN

Don’t say that, moron, I slept fine! Well, if you guys had just been quiet, I probably could’ve slept more soundly, but...

MOB

Eh? Were we loud?

RITSU

No, t-that’s not true at all, nii-san! We slept just fine.

REIGEN

Eh, whatever! More important than that - food! I missed my chance to eat last night, so I’ve been looking forward to this…!

[SFX: door sliding]

Oooooh, it’s here, it’s here! This is it - a real ryokan breakfast! White rice in a wooden container, colourful pickled vegetables, crispy nori, natto, raw eggs… Oh!! Walleye pollack roe and simply scalded whitebait! And that’s iwanori there too, isn’t it! Everything’s here! Moreover, warm flavourful miso soup, and wanmono with a delicate touch of high quality seasoning. Then! Grated daikon and grilled salmon, cut in a rare way… 100% perfect! As expected of a long established ryokan! This is it! A real Japanese-style breakfast!

[SFX: door sliding]

MOB

It really does look delicious…

RITSU

Looking at this I feel like I could eat everything, even though we ate so much the night before…

TERU

Considering I live alone, this breakfast is like a dream to me.

SERIZAWA

And I only ever eat cup noodles… Reigen-san, thank you so much for bringing me along on this trip!

REIGEN

I already told you this doubles as your welcoming party, didn’t I? In any case, let’s eat! It’s all gonna go cold otherwise!

[SFX: hands clapping together]

EVERYONE

Let’s eat!

[BGM: that soft music that plays when OVA title drops]

[SFX: eating, cutlery against bowls and such, happy exclamations]

REIGEN

Mob… seriously, did you put raw egg on top of your natto?

MOB

I did.

REIGEN

Ah, amateurs are such as bother... Listen. With the raw egg, your body becomes unable to absorb the precious vitamins in the natto!

MOB

Really? But, I like having raw egg with my natto…

REIGEN

If you want to have your natto with eggs, then make it only the yolk. That way, you don’t lose any of the nutrition from the natto. That’s something good to remember.

MOB

Alright. If that’s what you say, Shishou…

REIGEN

And Ritsu. You shouldn’t put whitebait on your grated daikon. The daikon inhibits your body’s ability to absorb amino acids from the whitebait. I recommend you have the grated daikon with the grilled salmon, and the whitebait with something else on the table.

RITSU

(unimpressed) Huh. Is that so.

TERU

Reigen-san, you really know a lot, don’t you?

REIGEN

Hanazawa… are you really eating that high-quality nori just the way it is? There’s a griddle over there! Nori is something you should lightly toast before eating!

TERU

Ah, that’s right, isn’t it? That must be what I forgot when I was eating the ibo-niku steak from last...

REIGEN

I’m not talking about that! ...In any case, don’t talk about about delicious-sounding food I didn’t get a chance to eat!

DIMPLE

Seriously… stop trying to one up these middle schoolers with how much you know about food, it’s immature.

REIGEN

On the contrary, it’s evidence of my maturity that I’m able to give this advice. They’re in middle school, they’re still growing - I have to teach them the most nutritionally-beneficial ways in which they can eat. It’s my obligation as an adult!

DIMPLE

You say that, but you just want to show off how much you know, don’t you?

REIGEN

Shut up, evil spirit!

SERIZAWA

But really, all of this food is delicious, isn’t it! This pickled daikon radish [SFX: mouth stuffed, still talking] is so crunchy…

REIGEN

Serizawa… you’ve still got a lot to learn as well.

SERIZAWA

Ehhh?? Did I... do something wrong? Did I take too much or…?

REIGEN

Needless to say, pickled daikon radish just by itself is delicious. However, there’s ways to make it even more so…! [SFX: knife brandished, loud chopping] First of all, cut the pickled daikon radish into tiny pieces using the provided knife, then mix it with natto! You could leave it like this and it’ll be delicious BUT, you could also throw in walleye pollack roe cut into little pieces with a hint of seasoning plus some iwanori! After that, roast some nori for 30 seconds or so until it’s crunchy, break it into pieces on top and… complete! The ultimate pollack-daikon-natto!

[SFX: munch, echo] MM! TASTY!

TERU

Eh…? Is that a special recipe?

REIGEN

So? Anyone fancy a bite?

TERU

Ah, I’m sorry… I don’t really like natto.

RITSU

I’m not great with walleye pollack roe.

MOB

And I just ate natto, so…

SERIZAWA

T-then… I’ll have some!

REIGEN

“Then”?! What the hell do you mean, “then”!? Fine. I’ll eat it by myself.

SERIZAWA

I… I’m sorry…

REIGEN

In any case, Serizawa. I noticed that you’re not eating the skin of the salmon - why is that?

SERIZAWA

T-that’s…! It’s because I don’t like the skin… I deeply apologise.

REIGEN

Hey now, I’m not criticising you. I was just thinking that I felt a little sorry for you is all, not knowing how delicious salmon skin can be.

SERIZAWA

So how delicious can it be?

REIGEN

Well, firstly, toast the remaining skin on the griddle until it’s crispy. After doing so and pulling it apart, put it on rice with some whitebait! ...but, with just that, it’s pretty fishy, SO! [SFX: knife brandished] You take the pickled vegetables, cut them finely… (carries on mumbling in concentration)

SERIZAWA

Ah… I really do want to eat this, but… I’m so full…

DIMPLE

You were able to serve yourself two more times while Reigen’s been making that.

REIGEN

Well, what can you do. So, Mob? You’ve been training your muscles, you need to eat a lot, don’t you?

DIMPLE

Reigen… you’re abusing your authority over your employees.

REIGEN

I’m not forcing anyone. It’s advice, through and through! It comes from a place of love...

DIMPLE

That’s just what a boss abusing their authority would say.

REIGEN

Ah, you’re annoying! Someone who can’t even eat this stuff should just shut up and go suck up some spirits!

[BGM end]

DIMPLE

Seriously?! Was that an order?!

REIGEN

ANYWAY! All I wanted to say is; delicious food is something that shouldn’t be eaten sloppily. Remember that! And now; I’m eating!

DIMPLE

You’re slow. Everyone’s finished.

[SFX: Reigen eats grossly ASMR]

REIGEN

Mmmm!! Delicious, delicious!! [SFX: slurp] Alright, what should I go for next!!

DIMPLE

Oi, licking your chopsticks, Reigen… that’s a breach of manners.

[BGM change]

REIGEN

Huh!? [SFX: more slurping, mouth full] MM!! This pollack-daikon-natto is so delicious!!

MOB

Shishou… my mum told me that you shouldn’t draw plates toward you using your chopsticks.

RITSU

Ah, you’ve dirtied the miso soup!

DIMPLE

The way you eat is filthy.

REIGEN

[SFX: mouth stuffed] Oh, shut up, you guys!

TERU

Reigen-san… I don’t think it’s good to speak when your mouth is full.

RITSU

And the natto, too...

TERU

And I think holding the plate that holds the fish is a breach of manners, too, isn’t it... I’ve heard it’s only fine to hold rice bowls, small bowls and small plates.

DIMPLE

Piling up plates when you’re done with them isn’t good, either.

MOB

And, my mum told me eating with an open mouth is-

REIGEN

Oh, come ON, you’re all so annoying! I was showing you all what NOT to do! Everything I just did was for that purpose. So don’t copy me! I just wanted to show you! Understood?!

EVERYONE

Uh… understood.

[SFX: gross eating continues]

DIMPLE

You’re deplorable, you are.

REIGEN

(echo) MM! TASTY!

Ah… the onsen was great, the food is delicious! What an amazing trip, huh? Haha! Hahahaha!! Haha!! Haha… ha… ha.

Track 1 (Intro) is here!

Track 2 (Episode 1: Serizawa’s Preparation) is here!

Track 3 (Episode 2: Going Shopping) is here!

Track 4 (Episode 3: Onsen) is here!

Track 5 (Episode 4: Dimple & The Local Spirit) is here!

Track 6 (Episode 5: Reigen’s Will) is here!

Track 7 (Episode 6: Ritsu Can’t Sleep) is here!

Track 9 (Outro) is here!

Crossposted on twitter here!

#mp100 #mp100 ova #kageyama shigeo #reigen arataka #serizawa katsuya #hanazawa teruki #kageyama ritsu #mob #mp100 ova drama cd #ova drama cd #my stuff

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purple-urself · 5 years

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6am On A Sunday - krbkweek2k19 Day 3

Rating: General Audiences Warnings: None Pairing: Kiribaku Summary: Eijirou wakes up to the sound of loud banging. It’s hardly unusual for a dorm full of teenagers to be rather loud, but 6am on a Sunday isn’t normally the busiest time of day for class 1-A.

Eijirou drags himself from his bed, rubbing his eyes and grumbling under his breath. This better be important. He throws open his door, ready to tell whoever it is to come back at a reasonable time, but instead he stops, finding Bakugou of all people on the other side.

For @krbkweek2k19

Read on A03

Eijirou wakes up to the sound of loud banging.

It’s hardly unusual for a dorm full of teenagers to be rather loud, but 6am on a Sunday isn’t normally the busiest time of day for class 1-A.

“Uh. Hi.”

“Get dressed, we’re going out.”

Eijirou blinks at him, wondering if he’d forgotten they had made plans. “Like, now?”

“Yes, now.” Bakugou grumbles, but Eijirou can see his jaw twitching and palms flexing, almost as if he’s nervous. “Unless you don’t want to; I can go on my own.”

“No! I mean, yeah, I wanna come!” Eijirou confirms, knowing the compulsion to go outside at 6am on a Sunday has nothing to do with breathing in the fresh air, and a lot more to do with the company. Bakugou wants him to go with him. And that means Eijirou will be there, come rain or shine.

“Then stop staring at me and get dressed,” Bakugou’s eye flit over his bare chest, and Eijirou is suddenly very aware that he answered his door in his boxers. They’ve only been dating a couple of weeks, and definitely not reached the stage of being comfortable around each other in next to no clothes.

Eijirou scampers out of Bakugou’s view without shutting the door, quickly pulling on whichever training clothes seem to be relatively clean. When he’s done, he finds Bakugou leaning against the wall in between their rooms.

“Ready!”

Bakugou gives him a once over, nodding when he’s satisfied with the result. He slings his backpack over his shoulder, gesturing at Eijirou to follow him.

“Did I need to bring anything?” Eijirou asks, eyeing the backpack as he enters the elevator.

“No, I just packed us some breakfast.”

Eijirou raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment, knowing that even thanking Bakugou for the thought would make him embarrassed.

“So, are you gonna tell me where we’re going?”

“For a walk.”

And Eijirou can’t help but smile at that, knowing that Bakugou likes to hike, but never having been invited along before. He’s happy that Bakugou is sharing this with him.

They take a train, filled with sleepy passengers, out of the city, then hop on a bus that takes them to what seems like the middle of nowhere.

“Is this where you usually come?” Eijirou asks, trying to squint up a hill in the low light of dawn.

“Hm,” Bakugou hums in what sounds like confirmation. He sets off along a path Eijirou hadn’t noticed before, and Eijirou trails behind, trying to take in the fresh air and surroundings. Even though Bakugou had woken him up criminally early for this, he’d like to take advantage of the opportunity now he’s here.

They walk in silence, which Eijirou doesn’t mind. He has a feeling this was something Bakugou did to try and relax, and he didn’t want to ruin it with his inane chatter. The slope they were climbing grew steeper and steeper, but Bakugou wasn’t slowing down. He seemed to have a goal in mind, and Eijirou made sure to keep pace with his boyfriend.

Eventually Bakugou stops, and Eijirou nearly topples into him, too focused on not tripping on the undergrowth to actually concentrate on the path ahead.

They seem to have reach the peak of whichever hill they were climbing, with miles and miles of countryside laid out beneath them. It was a beautiful sight, made even more breathtaking by the first rays of daylight peaking over the horizon.

“Wow.” Eijirou says, wanting to convey the wonder without really knowing how.

Bakugou hums again, shrugging off his backpack and flopping down on the grass. Eijirou follows suit, immediately perking up when Bakugou starts unpacking their breakfast.

EIjirou instantly starts chowing down on some rice and natto, and Bakugou helps himself to some miso out of a thermal canteen.

They watch the sun come up as they eat, but Eijirou finds it hard to focus on the scenery with Bakugou basking peacefully in the morning light right next to him.

“You’re staring, creeper.” Bakugou murmurs, without taking his eyes off the horizon. Eijirou can feel himself flush at getting caught out. But Bakugou is his boyfriend now; he was allowed to stare.

“Can’t help it.” He replies truthfully.

Bakugou turns, considering him for a moment before leaning in, brushing their lips together softly. They’ve kissed before, but Eijirou still gets a spark of electricity in his belly everytime they do, especially when Bakugou initiates.

They break apart, and it takes Eijirou a few moments to get his thoughts back in order.

“You’re really treating me today, huh?” He says when he can think straight again.

“Shut up,” Bakugou murmurs, pinching his cheek. It’s something he started doing as they got closer, and Eijirou can’t say he understands it, but it’s endearing nonetheless.

“Nah, don’t feel like it.” Eijirou tells him lightly, and Bakugou rolls his eyes. “Uh. But seriously, I’m really happy that you brought me along today.”

“Yeah, well…” Bakugou seems to be struggling with what to say, so Eijirou helps him out by connecting their lips again, this time for a short peck.

“You don’t have to say anything, I just want you to know i’m glad to be here with you.” Eijirou’s words have some sort of effect on Bakugou, but he seemed more frustrated than pleased by them.

“That’s not- I want to- shit, no I-” Bakugou flounders for a moment, and Eijirou raises a brow in surprise. He’s never seen Bakugou this flustered before. “Listen. You always… know the best things to say. That make me- feel better. And you’re always just- so open about. Everything. And you’re not afraid, to tell me exactly how you feel and-” Bakugou is almost choking, trying to get the words out through his teeth. Eijirou is mildly concerned. “And, it just makes me- I just want you to know, how… how much you mean to me.”

“I already know.” Eijirou says quietly after a moment to process Bakugou’s words.

“No! You don’t get it,” Bakugou scowls, starting to rip handfuls of grass out of the ground, seemingly subconsciously. “I need to tell you-”

“You really don’t,” Eijirou interrupts, before this goes any further. He’s… overwhelmed by the fondness he feels for his boyfriend at that moment. He takes Bakugou’s hand, attempting to calm him down. “Bakugou I-”

“Katsuki.”

Eijirou bites his lip, trying to hold back a huge grin. Katsuki.

“Right, Katsuki. I’m… so happy that you’re thinking of my feelings, and- and that you’re trying to um. Trying to reassure me of your own feelings but. You really don’t need to do that? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s so nice to hear but like,” Eijirou gestures around them, “I know how much you value stuff like this, and including me in something that’s special to you shows me exactly how much you care. Actions speak louder than words, ya’ know? And you do stuff for me all the time, like cook for me, and help me study, and train with me, and even just listening to me- well. Everything you do, really, shows me how much you care. So I really don’t need any big declarations, if you’re not comfortable with that stuff. ‘Cos like. I love everything about you Katsuki.” He finishes with a small smile, and a squeeze of Katsuki’s hand.

There’s a moment of silence between them, the only thing to be heard is the morning birds chirping in the trees around them. Eijirou takes a breath, wondering if he maybe went too far, but as soon as he has the thought, it’s out of his head again because he’s being tackled to the ground.

“You idiot,” Katsuki growls in his ear, though Eijirou knows his tone is fond. He laughs out loud, throwing his arms around Katsuki’s shoulders, and holding him close.

They stay like that for a while, and Eijirou can’t find it within himself to complain about it.

#kiribaku #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #bnha #kiribakuweek2k19 #my fic

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sunbrights · 6 years

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fic: somewhere surely lived (6/14)

fandom: danganronpa characters/pairings: fuyuhiko & peko as main POV characters + a "relationship of the day" character + some side characters. kuzupeko + 6 secondary ships. rating: e (not all chapters have smut, but a fair number of them do) summary: Hope's Peak is not just a dating program; it's a guarantee. With the right compatible partner, the benefits are endless: boosted life expectancy, improved self-esteem, increased productivity, new opportunities, better overall work and life satisfaction. For society's elite, Hope's Peak makes finding that partner straightforward, if not easy.

It provides an Ultimate Match-- provided the participants are willing to go through its paces.

(AU based on the Black Mirror episode, "Hang the DJ.")

read on AO3

36 HOURS

Peko sighs.

“I suppose I can see how it could be disappointing,” her partner says.

Her name is Sakura; she is a tall, broad woman with a weathered face and intense eyes. She is striking, and Peko realizes she’s given her the wrong impression.

Sakura’s tone had been wry, not unkind, but her understanding shouldn’t excuse Peko’s misstep. “I’m sorry,” she says. “That was rude. I’m not disappointed, I…”

She realizes mid-thought that the truth is possibly even more of a social faux pas. Sakura only looks at her steadily, and Peko fumbles her words. The pause stretches long enough to be unnatural, and then long enough to be awkward.

All she can think to say is “... I’m sorry,” again.

Sakura isn’t offended; she smiles, a calm slant of her mouth on one side, and lays her napkin out over her lap. “It’s fine,” she says. “There’s no need to apologize.”

“But—”

“The system moves you quickly from one relationship to the next,” she says. “There’s little time for recovery or reflection in between. It’s a relief to have a short period where expectations can stay relatively low.”

Peko finds herself staring. “Yes.”

“You are my seventh relationship,” Sakura says. “I understand.”

The server stops by their table. They’re given the same meal for dinner: oven roasted lamb chops with a mint chimichurri, medium rare. It’s delicious, if imperfect for the both of them. Sakura comments that hers is overcooked; Peko counters that hers is undercooked. Sakura suggests that they swap, but both plates are almost exactly the same, and trading hardly makes a difference at all.

"Perhaps we should have expected that," Peko says, and Sakura chuckles, deep in her chest.

"Perhaps so."

It's the most relaxed Peko thinks she has ever been, on one of the system's introductory dinners. She resists the urge to tap the device to check the time, and tucks it into the bottom of her purse instead.

Their living quarters are smaller than any of the ones she’s had before. It’s compact, but not sparse or unappealing. She likes it. She appreciates that about the system, if nothing else: it is exactly what it needs to be, for exactly as long as it’s needed.

The fireplace doesn’t ignite automatically. She assumes it’s something to do with seasonality; the temperature controls of the building are state-of-the-art and likely could easily adjust for the additional heat, but it would still be strange, this deep into mid-summer. The shutters on the front windows whirr open instead, and she can see the pulsing glows of fireflies darting through the grass outside.

“Before we go any further,” Sakura says, when she closes the door behind them, “I would like to be clear about something.”

Peko turns to listen.

“I have no intention of consenting to anything physical in the time we’ve been given,” Sakura says. “I apologize if that goes against any expectations you may have had.”

“No,” Peko answers, “I understand.” She looks back out the window. It only takes a moment for another spot of light to wink in and back out. “But… that doesn’t mean the time can’t still be enjoyable.”

Sakura says, “I agree,” and Peko can hear the smile in her voice.

They share the bed that night, and sleep back-to-back.

Peko finds that their schedules are extremely similar: they wake up at the same time, and have the same regular routine of morning stretches. It’s inconvenient before it’s charming; she’s reminded that their living quarters are smaller than average when it turns out there isn’t room for both of them to stretch at the same time.

Sakura has her morning workout. Peko goes for her run. When she comes back, the doors and windows have been thrown open to let in the summer air, and there’s a crackling, savory scent billowing out onto the road.

Sakura is making breakfast: pan-seared fish next to bowls of natto rice and miso soup, in heaping portions. They don’t even have a full kitchen, but Sakura has found the ingredients and a small portable stove, and that must have been sufficient. Everything she’s made takes up the entirety of their small coffee table.

“Ah,” Sakura says, when Peko is standing in the doorway. “Good timing.” She cracks a raw egg into each bowl of rice. “Would you like coffee?”

“I would,” Peko answers, taking a seat on the settee. “Black, please. Thank you.”

Sakura pours it for her. Peko has to hold the mug in her lap, to make room for the plates of food on the table, but that’s fine. The warm, rich smell of it fills her chest and smooths through her tired muscles.

“I didn’t realize there were so many options,” she admits. “I suppose I assumed we were limited to what the system had already made available.”

“The system will provide anything you need,” her device responds. “All you need to do is ask!”

Sakura inclines her head at it. “All the short-term living quarters are sorely lacking when it comes to breakfast supplies,” she says. “I’ve gotten into the habit of requesting them.”

This is her seventh relationship. The number seems high— but at the same time, Peko has no idea how long the average person spends in the system. The only number Hope’s Peak releases is its success rate: 99.8%. Any more than that, so the argument went, and participants would enter the system with too-concrete expectations, and confound the results.

“I’m surprised it’s allowed,” she says, “given how closely the system monitors everything else.”

“The system monitors this, too,” Sakura answers. “The system monitors every choice. Its main goal is efficacy balanced against efficiency, so any choice outside the norm is a valuable data point.”

“That’s correct!” her device announces from the mantelpiece. Sakura ignores it, and stirs the ingredients in her rice bowl.

“You don’t seem to have much confidence in it,” Peko observes.

Sakura’s smile twists around her chopsticks. “Then I haven’t explained myself well,” she says, when she’s swallowed her bite. “The system promises compatibility. It’s designed to produce mutually-beneficial partnerships. I have no doubt in its ability to do that.”

“But?”

“‘But’?” Sakura echoes. “That’s all. That’s what the system promises. That’s what it delivers.”

She is giving Peko that same, steady look. Peko doesn’t get the impression she’s being dishonest or evasive, but the conversation still feels complex in a way that’s difficult to quantify. On the surface, it’s a logical perspective, if also a cold one. But Sakura’s look burns too much for that to be all there is.

Peko finds herself wishing they had more time.

“What do you think?” Sakura asks her, setting her bowl back on the table. “Do you think the system will be able to generate an Ultimate Match for you?”

The question has never been asked before. Not to her, at least. Participation in the system by nature implies confidence in its methods. All of the evidence Hope’s Peak provides comes from testimonials, however: a success rate based on reports of perfect matches, pairing days with enthusiastic couples, previous participants with quotes in the introductory materials. The system works if you let it.

Instead, Peko thinks about here, now; she thinks about the food in front of her and the ease of conversation and just how comfortable the last twelve hours have been. The system predicted that compatibility, not her.

“I do,” she decides.

Sakura nods. “Then there’s nothing to worry about.”

The aquatics center on the bottom level of the central hub is a massive facility. It contains a gym and a sauna in addition to the lap pool, and all participants are provided free access while they’re progressing through the system. They go together for their afternoon workouts, and agree to take each other through their respective routines.

It’s as fascinating to see how another person’s perspective overlaps with hers as it is to see how it deviates; Sakura focuses more on strength training while Peko has always leaned into endurance and flexibility, but that still leaves plenty of room for them both to learn and borrow from each other.

Sakura excuses herself for water. When she comes back, she hovers at the edge of Peko’s set, waiting for her to finish. She’s watching, but not focused, critically or otherwise. It’s the first time Peko has seen her uncertain.

“Is there something wrong?” Peko asks, sitting up.

“No,” Sakura answers, and the finality of it seems to calm her uneasiness. “There is… someone I would like you to meet, actually.” She turns her shoulders toward the exit of the gym. “Do you have a moment?”

Peko does, so she follow Sakura out through the facility, down to the indoor lap pool. The air is hot and humid, even with the building’s robust environmental settings; it sticks on Peko’s already-sweaty skin.

Sakura leads her down to the end of the pool, where a girl has just pulled herself out of the water. “Aoi,” Sakura calls, “are you finished for today?”

The girl is still flushed from her swim, from her chest up to her neck. Dark hair sticks out from beneath a blue swimming cap. She squirts water directly into her mouth from a water bottle.

She lights up with a smile, when she turns her head and finds Sakura’s face. “Yep!” she chirps. “What’s up?”

“There’s someone I’d like you to meet,” Sakura says. She steps aside to give Peko room to step forward. “This is my current partner, Peko.”

“Oh! Hi!” the girl says, wiping her mouth with the back of her arm. “I’m Aoi. It’s nice to meet you! I’d shake your hand, but I’m kinda still...” She smiles sheepishly, showing Peko her damp palms.

“That’s alright,” Peko says. “It’s nice to meet you, as well.”

Peko imagines that Aoi should feel like an interloper, but she doesn’t; she is social and friendly, and bulldozes any awkwardness before it can find a foothold. She suggests that they all stop at the restaurant upstairs for dinner together, and bounces on the balls of her feet when Peko accepts.

“I’m glad you’re here!” Aoi says, on their way out. She swings her towel around her shoulders, and hoists her drawstring bag on her back. “I always said that Sakura needed a training partner.”

“I do have a training partner,” Sakura says behind them, and her voice has a gentle, softened quality to it Peko hasn’t heard before.

“I don’t just mean me,” Aoi complains. “There’s only so much we can do on our own! I mean training, your kind of training.”

“All training is my kind of training.”

“Me and Sakura are gonna be the ultimate team,” Aoi tells Peko. “Strongest on land and fastest in the water! That’s the goal!” She pounds her fists together. “I mean, with the system we don’t get as much time together as we used to, but that’s not gonna stop us! Right, Sakura?”

Behind them, Sakura laughs, full and rich. “Yes.”

Halfway through dinner, Peko realizes that if there is anyone at the table who could be labeled an interloper, it is her, not Aoi.

She doesn’t feel excluded. She feels warm and welcomed, and as the timer counts down she can only be disappointed at the impending end of a newly-budding friendship. But there is an additional layer at the table that she isn’t a part of, will never be a part of, and, perhaps, has never actually experienced for herself.

She twists her fork in her pasta, and wonders if the system has made note of that, too.

They read into the evening, out on the porch swing. The glow from the outside light is almost too dim to see by, but she makes do; it’s comfortable here, where the air is warm and quiet, circulated by a lazy breeze. The fireflies peek in and out, from the grass near their feet down to the line of trees in the distance.

Peko finishes her chapter. She checks her device, and the countdown has dipped below eight hours. “It’s late,” she says. “I should sleep.”

“I’d like to finish this section,” Sakura answers, skimming her finger beneath her next page. “But I’ll join you shortly.”

Peko nods. She sets her place in her book and steps off the swing. She’ll need to close the window shutters but remember to leave the front light on, and—

“Peko.”

She turns in the doorway; Sakura has her chin tilted up to the sky, and the edge of her hand pressed into the spine of her book. It’s a clear, cloudless night, and the stars are like a reflection of the fireflies in the grass, winking in and out.

“This has been time well-spent,” Sakura says. “Thank you.”

“Yes,” Peko answers softly. “I agree.”

Peko goes to bed. She hears the front door open and close, in the moments before she falls asleep. The space beside her is empty when she does.

It is still empty, in the morning.

The blanket is still folded over the edge of the mattress on the opposite side, and the pillow beside her head is still as round and fluffed as it had been the morning before. Peko herself moves very little in her sleep; the neat tuck of the sheets has hardly been disturbed at all.

She sits up. She touches the face of her device, and the time remaining blinks back up at her: two hours, three minutes.

“Sakura?” she calls.

The couch is empty, too. None of the pillows or cushions have been disturbed. Nothing has been taken from the cabinets, and the sinks in the bathroom are dry.

Everything is pristine— except for the book, Sakura’s book, abandoned on the porch swing outside. There is a pretty bookmark set near the center of the pages: a simple ink print of a rose on a deep red background.

On the back, someone has written: Some things cannot be calculated.

“Usami,” she says.

The device lights up in her other hand. “Yes, Peko?”

The ink making up the rose is slightly raised; Peko runs her thumb over the ridges of it, and looks out across the grass. If Sakura had wanted to go somewhere undetected, she would not have left evidence behind. If finding her is Peko’s goal, reporting it to the system is the most logical solution.

The device waits for input. The pale purple ring around the center pulses with the rhythm of background noise picked up by the microphone: the breeze on the window shutters, the songs of birds beginning at the start of their days, the whisper of cloth when Peko shifts her weight.

It goes dark when it doesn’t pick up on a voice.

She goes back inside. She sets the device on the mantelpiece, and pours herself a mug of coffee.

END

#peko pekoyama #sakura oogami #danganronpa #OOF i will catch up i am determined #tho technically i did say 'three times a week' and THAT schedule i haven't messed up yet....#we about to hit the top of the rollercoaster friends here we go #fic: somewhere surely lived #sunwrites

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lazulisong · 7 years

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Erm. Hi. I'm having a rough time with depression, and all the stories I've been reading have somehow gone from sweet fluff to like super angst. Which like isn't any writers fault, but I mighy have to take a break from them because my anxiety and depression hold onto to whatever feelings they generate and make me feel evem worse all day.(Thanks big D for ruining things that made me happy.) Your writing always cheers me up. Any chance you could post a trademark lazulisong abo one shot?

shit sucks anon and i’m sorry. Also I thought, oh well, I’ll just write like 700 words of Victor being an idiot in rut, but uhhhhhhhhh apparently I have at least 2k of rut jokes saved up in my heart and I’m just dumping them all out for you, like a bunch of nasty sticks and tennis balls the dog is bringing to make you Not Sad. So it’s not going to be done tonight, but here’s what I have so far.

Yuri wakes up partly because Makkachin is whining and partly because there’s thumping sounds from Victor’s room and Victor is singing – not loudly, but persistently. It’s not quite singing. More like a half-hum from deep in his throat. Victor has a nice baritone voice and also Yuri is beginning to realize, depressingly enough, that he loves Victor as a real human person, not a dream, even though that real human person eats natto and puts jam with red 40 dye in his tea and whines when his dog chooses to sleep with Yuri instead of him. So if Victor, that real human person, feels the need to sing Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring, with orchestration of dog whining and furniture moving, well, Yuri is going to open his door to let the dog in and put his pillow over his head until he falls back asleep.

Yuri is almost back to sleep when it occurs to him that Victor usually goes to bed at nine, like an old man, and gets up at four, like a monster, unless he’s been drinking – and Victor hadn’t been out drinking. So it’s pretty weird that apparently he’s cleaning house at – Yuri squints at his clock – two fifteen am.

Yuri lifts his head to look at Makkachin to see if Makkachin has any idea what’s going on, but Makkachin turns a little and flops against Yuri with a sigh. He grinds his teeth a few times, and then falls asleep.

It sounds nice, anyway, Victor’s low tuneful humming. It makes something in Yuri feel all safe and secure. In his half-awake thoughts, it seems only right that an alpha should be staying alert while he sleeps.

Yuri wakes up because Makkachin needs to Go Outside and See A Man about a Squirrel, and he cries at the bedroom door until Yuri staggers over and lets him out. Then Makkachin decides that he doesn’t want anybody else but Yuri to take him Outside – a trick Vicchan had been fond of too. It should have made no difference whatsoever if Yuri or Mari or their mom stood on the porch yawning and making encouraging comments about every blade of grass Vicchan examined like it was a matter of life or death that he chose the right one to poo on – but Vicchan liked for Yuri to do it.

“Where’s your real dad?” says Yuri to Makkachin, as Makkachin examines the exact blade of grass Vicchan always studied suspiciously before deciding it was unworthy, after all. “Why isn’t he telling you how intelligent you are to poop here?” Makkachin sneezes. “You are very intelligent,” Yuri assures him. “The second best dog.”

Behind him comes a theatrical gasp.

“How dare you,” says Victor. “Makkachin, don’t listen to him!”

“The smartest best standard poodle,” says Yuri.

“Well,” says Victor. He comes closer and offers Yuri a cup of tea over his shoulder. Yuri takes it and then turns around to see Victor.

He blinks.

“Good morning,” chirps Victor. Victor is completely dressed in darkwash skinny jeans and a button-up, with the shirt sleeves rolled up in a way calculated to display Victor’s beautifully muscled forearms. He’s wearing a full face of makeup – not just his usual mascara, foundation, and lipgloss, but like. Yuri remembers that look from the photoshoot Victor had done for CONQUISTADOR by Chanel (“unleash your beast”). Victor’s eyeliner is stabbier than Phichit’s. He’s wearing some sort of bright blue eye shadow accented by a single streak of gold in the crease. His lips are stained cherry red. There’s gold dust on his cheekbones.

Yuri does not say “what the fuck”, even though Victor is wearing a gold anklet with a diamond charm that drapes over the strong, sharp line of his bare instep. He’s painted his toenails red. He’s painted his fingernails red too, Yuri realizes, a cherry-black color that matches his lipstain. "Uh,“ he says instead.

“It’s such a nice morning,” says Victor, brighteyed and bushytailed as ever. “We should get an early start!”

“Uhhhhh,” says Yuri, trying to sniff the air without being rude. Victor smells like Old English Leather, like he spent all morning tarting himself up to talk to Yuri. Like he’s –

“Mama let me make lunch today!” says Victor. He steps up closer to Yuri, not quite touching him, but definitely getting into Yuri’s space, directing him to the safety of the living room.

Makkachin finally picks a patch of grass to pee on and rushes up to be told how beautiful and clever he is. Yuri takes a moment to pray for strength while Victor cooes over Makkachin because this - this is not a conversation he’d ever imagined having with Victor Nikiforov. “Um,” he begins.

“We should go to the rink right away,” says Victor.

“That would be a very bad idea,” says Yuri. Of course Victor would consider the rink his territory. This won’t end badly at all. This is exactly what Yuri’s life is like, so he can’t even wonder why it’s happening to him. It’s happening because the universe hates him.

“Oh, do you want to eat first?” says Victor. A gleam appears in his eyes, the same gleam Phichit had gotten like clockwork, every three months.

“What is it with alphas in rut and feeding me?” says Yuri, involuntarily.

“What,” says Victor.

“What,” says Yuri.

“What?” says Victor. “I’m not in – which alpha was feeding you? What did they feed you? Were they courting you? Did you –”

“I’m going back to bed,” says Yuri.

Yuri does not go back to bed.

Mari walks in on Victor hanging off Yuri and whining because Yuri won’t tell him what alpha he let feed him, and Makkachin, of course is jumping up and barking joyously. Mari pulls the collar of her shirt up over her nose involuntarily and yells, “What is that stench?” Yuri realizes that Victor has begun to put out rut-scent to mark his territory, and he has to physically drag Victor into the family’s bathroom and stand over him while he scrubs off.

“I spent an hour on this look,” says Victor, resentfully wiping off his makeup with (God help Yuri) Chanel wet wipes.

Yuri is sitting in front of the bathroom door so Victor doesn’t try to pretend he’s actually scrubbed with soap and water and then rub his scent glands against every doorframe and corner of Yutopia. “And it didn’t occur to you that something weird was going on?” he says.

“I haven’t been in rut for … a while,” says Victor. “I had one last winter, but –”

“A while,” repeats Yuri.

“It’s been some time,” says Victor, even more vaguely. “You know how it goes. Being in training. Traveling so much.”

“You haven’t been in rut for so long you’ve forgotten your symptoms?” says Yuri. That seems nice to Yuri, who has a heat, suppressants or no suppressants, like it or not, every three months. His endocrinologist says he is very lucky and should have no trouble having kids as soon as he wants them. Yuri has his doubts about his luck.

“Well, for one thing,” says Victor, “The Federation oversees the suppressants I’m on.”

“So?” says Yuri. His endocrinologist is technically hired by the JSF. Nobody wants an accidental breakthrough rut or heat during a competition.

“Hmm,” says Victor, pausing with his scrubby in his hand. “Let me think how to put this. When I first started skating, there was a big scandal that they had to cover up, because one of the alpha girls was put on such strong suppressants that she lost her virility.” Victor lets that sink in for a minute. “And her fertility.”

“Oh,” says Yuri.

“Yes, oh,” says Victor. He dabs reluctantly at the scent gland on his thigh and makes a face. “Do I have to –”

“Yes,” says Yuri. “Don’t make me come over there.”

Victor slants a look over at him. His eyes are very bright, blue-fire hot. “Or what?” he says.

The air goes thicker. Yuri feels himself flushing bright red. He has a crazy moment where he wants to drop his eyes and let Victor entice him close. His chest feels heavy and hot, like he’s about to have a let-down reflex. Yuri can just imagine if he did, if he actually started leaking heat-milk, the way that Victor would –

“I’ll dump cold water on your head,” he says firmly.

Victor pouts, but he starts scrubbing properly.

#yuri on ice #victuuri #a/b/o #omegaverse #thanks @ verity and cafecliche for immediately rising to challenge of ALPHA MAKEUP #poor verity had to simplify it Too Much for me #the person who refuses to wear makeup because she gets mad when people tell her #how nice she looks today #Anonymous

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foreverfamilyforevervongola · 7 years

Text

Happy Birthday, Hibari Kyoya

Prompt: Birthday

The rhythmic beeps of Hibari’s alarm clock rousing him, he was immediately awake, nimbly switching the alarm off and swinging his legs over the edge of his bed. Wide-eyed and alert, he stretched his arms over his head briefly and began his morning routine. He showered and changed from his pajamas into his Namimori High school uniform. Smoothing out the front of his shirt, he then pulled apart the curtains, the morning rays from the sun spilling through the glass and smattering across his hardwood floor.

When he entered the kitchen of his apartment he was greeted with a pleasant aroma. Arranged neatly on the table were small dishes of steamed rice, natto, grilled fish and miso soup. Kusakabe turned away from the counter, where he was spooning some soup for his own meal, and smiled.

“Good morning, Kyo-san. Happy birthday.”

Hibari gave a nod of acknowledgement, reaching to stroke Hibird’s feathers when the bird landed on his shoulder, chirping a tune that sounded rather similar to ‘Happy Birthday’. He spooned some miso soup into his mouth, the flavours humming against his tongue.

“Not bad.”

His tone was light and casual, and Kusakabe shifted his gaze to see Hibari’s lips curling upwards ever so slightly. “I’m glad it’s made to your satisfaction,” he returned. “I would hate to start your morning off on a sour note, especially when it’s your birthday.”

“If the food was abysmal, I would get to punish you for your lack of competency.”

“I’m sure you would have enjoyed that, but I would like to make it through the day relatively unscathed.”

Hibari raised a brow, lifting some rice towards his lips. “I suppose we’ll see.”

The pair ate their breakfast together, alternating between idle chatter and contented silence. Hibari was finishing the last of his grilled fish when there was a knock on the apartment door. Kusakabe rose from his chair and went to the hall to answer it.

“Hello,” greeted I-Pin and Futa when the door eased open.

“Is Kyo-nii here?” asked Lambo hopefully.

“Good morning,” said Kusakabe, stepping aside to let them pass. “Kyo-san is just finishing breakfast.”

“What did you have?” Lambo wondered.

Futa rolled his eyes. “You just ate.”

“So what?” he defended. “I can’t ask what other people have for breakfast?”

Hibari stepped into the hall, arranging the sleeves of his dark blue school shirt. “Small animals.”

“Happy birthday,” the three kids chorused, and I-Pin extended a homemade card towards him.

Hibari opened the purple, crayon-covered card, where there was a depiction of him surrounded by birds and hedgehogs. Three signatures were scrawled on the bottom, Lambo’s sloppy letters next to I-Pin’s and Futa’s neater handwriting. “I am not that short.”

Lambo set his hands on his hips. “You’re supposed to say ‘thank you’.” At the fingers that tugged sharply on his raven curls, he said cheekily, “You’re welcome.”

Quelling a smirk, Hibari set his birthday card on the decorative table situated at the end of the hall, where it was in plain view. “Since you’re here, you can help clean the dishes.”

“Sure,” said I-Pin cheerfully, taking Lambo’s hand and dragging him towards the kitchen. Futa followed behind them and with the two older teens they set the dirty cutlery and dishes into the sink, letting warm water wash over the food stains.

“I don’t remember anyone doing my chores when it’s my birthday,” muttered Lambo lowly, grunting slightly when Futa elbowed him gently in the side.

Once the dishes were neatly stacked in the sink and the table and counter was wiped down, Hibari nodded in approval. “Come. We will walk you to school.”

I-Pin shifted her gaze to the microwave’s clock. “It’s kinda early.”

“Then you will not be late,” countered Hibari, tone making it clear there was no room for argument.

The group filed out of the apartment, leaving the building and entering the spring air. Hibari listened to their cheerful nattering, not minding this particular kind of noise. He kept a slight distance behind the kids so they were in his range of sight. Kusakabe walked closest to the curb and ensured that they didn’t stray too close to the road.

They soon arrived at the front entrance of Namimori Elementary. Hibari reached down to adjust Futa’s shirt collar, instructing, “Behave. Don’t cause trouble.”

“What fun is that?” asked Lambo innocently, and when Hibari slipped his hand inside his school jacket he hastily added, “Just kidding!”

“Thanks for walking us to school,” said I-Pin.

They each gave Hibari a hug, the Cloud Guardian resting his hand against the tops of their heads in affection. They bid Kusakabe goodbye before racing off towards their school, and the two high school students continued on their way. The pair separated once they reached the school and Kusakabe went to take care of the morning duties for the Disciplinary Committee.

Hibari began his patrol, strolling the grounds. He was finishing his first lap when he heard a set of footsteps rapidly coming up behind him. He did not bother to look over his shoulder, and a familiar yelp of surprise confirmed his suspicions of who was approaching him. Tsuna stumbled past him, trying and failing to regain his balance and ending up face-first in the dirt.

“…hi.”

Rolling his eyes, Hibari crossed his arms over his chest as Tsuna straggled back to his feet, uniform rumpled. “Your dry-cleaning bill must be horrendous.”

“Nah, not really, Mom’s really good at that sort of thing.” Tsuna flushed slightly. “She’s had a lot of practice.” But then he brightened and said cheerfully, “Happy birthday!”

He reached into the pocket of his pants and removed a small, wrapped package. Hibari accepted it, removing the purple paper and opening the velvet box. Nestled inside were two rings. There was a Cloud Ring and a silver band with a simple emerald, his name engraved on the inside.

As Hibari studied it, Tsuna said nervously, “Is it okay? I didn’t think it was too flashy or anything, and I wanted to give you something with your birthstone in it since the green resembles spring and you like nature and—”

Hibari extended a hand and covered Tsuna’s mouth, cutting off his rapid speech. “You’re rambling.” When the anxiety did not cease, he exhaled through his nose in exasperation. “It’s fine, Tsunayoshi.”

The brunette relaxed at this assurance, smiling when his Cloud slipped on both rings. “Oh, good.”

He fell into step beside Hibari and joined him on his patrol. He kept quiet and Hibari did not protest his presence. When they entered the school and walked down the corridors, Hibari shifted his gaze to his watch. He lazily reached out and placed his fingers against Tsuna’s neck, applying pressure. “If you don’t leave now you’re going to be late, omnivore.”

“And I know how awful it would be for you to thrash me on your birthday,” quipped Tsuna with a grin. At Hibari’s threatening glare, he raised his hands and backed away. “I’m going, I’m going. See you later!”

He disappeared amongst the crowd of students and Hibari started for his office. He unlocked the door and stepped inside the carpeted space. He settled in the chair behind his desk and reached for a file containing yesterday’s detention slips. He read through them, searching for any infractions serious or a repeat offender that he needed to deal with. It was about ten minutes before the morning bell rang when there was a knock on the door.

He could tell by the sheer, unnecessary force who was on the other side, and it wasn’t a surprise when the door flung open without waiting for a response. Ryohei strode inside, holding a crystal vase filled with bright violet sumires.

“Happy birthday, Kyoya!” he boomed.

He set the vase on the surface of the desk and looped an arm over Hibari’s shoulders. Hibari easily manoeuvered out of the Sun’s embrace and pinned his upper body to the desk, one hand pressing against his head and the other twisting his right arm behind his back.

“It’s rude to enter one’s quarters without an invitation,” he drawled. “I don’t recall inviting you in.”

Hardly fazed, Ryohei replied, “Come on, don’t be like that. You probably wouldn’t have let me in and I had to wish you happy birthday.”

“It’s just a day, herbivore.”

“Yeah, your day. And even if you don’t want to celebrate, we do.”

“Hnn.” Hibari bent Ryohei’s arm further back, eliciting a yelp of pain, before relinquishing him. He left the teen to right himself as he inspected the flowers, a sweet, subtle smell wafting through the air. Hibari gently fingered the petals and said, “If you took these from the school gardens…”

Ryohei blinked. “We have gardens?”

“Get out.”

With a laugh Ryohei ducked to avoid the stapler thrown in his direction, charging out of the office. Hibari shook his head, arranging the vase so it was in a better position on his desk. He was sure he would hear some griping from the Garden Club about their destroyed work, but Ryohei meant well, and the flowers brought a pleasant splash of colour.

Hibari returned to his files and his eyes narrowed upon reading the next detention record. As if by cue, there was another knock on the door before Yamamoto edged his way inside, a large tea held between his hands. “Hi!” he said happily. “Happy birthday!”

“You broke a window?” growled Hibari.

Yamamoto paused by the edge of the desk, squinting at the record in Hibari’s hands. “Oh, ha ha, yeah. Threw a stray baseball yesterday. Have to work overtime in my pop’s shop for the next month to help pay for it.”

Appeased that Yamamoto would fund the repair, Hibari warned, “Damage school property again and you’ll face far worse than a couple of weeks of detention.”

“Got it.” Yamamoto extended the cup and said, “This is for you.”

Hibari accepted the beverage, the warmth seeping into his fingertips. He already knew the café from the design printed on the outside of the cup, for it was one of the few cafés that made tea acceptable to his picky palette.

“I suppose you consumed yours in the five seconds it took to get from the counter to the door?”

Yamamoto grinned. “I’m not that good, but yeah, I drank mine on the way here. And I enjoyed it very much.”

“Hard to enjoy the flavour when it’s overridden by a scalding temperature,” said Hibari flatly.

Yamamoto was the only person who drank as much tea as Hibari did, but the difference was Yamamoto would drink any tea from anyplace and had a habit of hastily gulping it down, regardless of how hot it was. It was a constant point Hibari criticized him for, as he only drank the best tea available and savoured the taste.

“I can’t drink in class, so I had to rush! But hey, if you really want me to take my time you could excuse me from homeroom tomorrow.”

“The only way you’ll be excused from class is if you’re dead or dying. If you’re still here after the bell rings, you may well get your excuse.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll see you later.” Yamamoto lifted his hand in a wave before disappearing from the Hibari’s office, the door swinging shut behind him.

Five minutes later, when the bell trilled throughout the building, Hibari leaned against the wide windows behind his desk, alternating between browsing the files and glancing outside to scan for any tardy culprits. It was fifteen minutes after the morning bell when Gokudera strolled down the path, silver hair tousled and expression sleepy.

Scowling, Hibari went to intercept him, waiting near the front doors. Gokudera had taken only three steps from the threshold when a tonfa slammed into his stomach, causing to gasp in surprise and drop to his knees.

“What the hell?” he hissed, clutching the throbbing spot.

“The world does not run on your time,” snapped Hibari.

Gokudera rolled across the tiles to avoid a second strike and leapt to his feet. “The world doesn’t run by your laws,” he snarled, darting forwards for a punch.

Hibari nimbly dodged and caught the arm, nails digging into his wrist. “Oh, but it does. There are some fools who don’t realize it yet—you’re one of them.”

Gokudera grunted when Hibari’s foot caught him in the ribcage. He twisted his arm free of the Cloud’s grasp and kicked his shin. He reached for a headlock but Hibari took his wrists in a steel hold, glowering at one another. After a moment of silence, Gokudera finally scoffed and wrenched away from Hibari.

“Whatever. I’d hate to give you the satisfaction of a fight, and I’ve got better things to do.” Hibari watched him stalk off, raising a hand to catch the envelope Gokudera suddenly tossed over his shoulder. “Happy birthday, jerk.”

Hibari opened the envelope and removed the card within, which contained a short but sincere message. Included was a purple handkerchief with his name engraved in golden thread, and Hibari could not help but smirk. Gokudera had taken and lost his old one, and despite a severe thrashing after he discovered the face, the silver-haired teen adamantly refused to replace it.

Tucking the cloth into his shirt pocket, Hibari continued his prowl, biting to death a few more rulebreakers.

…

The warmth of the afternoon sun washed over his body, Hibari lay stretched out on the school’s roof. His arms were crossed behind his head, eyes closed. He wasn’t yet asleep when the door leading to the roof opened with a soft clunk, and three sets of footsteps sounded against the cement.

“Oh, he’s sleeping,” said Haru in disappointment.

“That’s okay. We’ll just leave it for him,” whispered Kyoko.

“…are you sure it’s his birthday?” asked Hana dubiously.

“Of course,” answered Haru. “Why do you ask?”

“I didn’t think he had a birthday like us regular people. Figured he was spawned from some evil entity or something.”

“Hana, that’s not nice,” scolded Kyoko lightly as Haru let out a startled laugh.

“Neither is he,” returned Hana in amusement.

The three girls approached Hibari and the teen listened to their footsteps. He easily pinpointed where Hana was—her gait strong and confident compared to Haru’s stumbles and Kyoko’s light, dainty steps. He shot out a hand and wrapped it around Hana’s ankle, causing the raven-haired girl to yell in surprise as he yanked her to the ground.

“He’s awake,” exclaimed Haru.

“I didn’t notice,” snapped Hana, moodily rubbing her aching back as she righted herself.

“You’re disrupting the peace,” said Hibari, not bothering to open his eyes. “What do you want?”

“We brought you lunch.” Kyoko neatly set a bento box near Hibari’s head. “Happy birthday!”

“If it really is your birthday,” said Hana with narrowed eyes. “Did you come into existence like the rest of us or were there supernatural circumstances involved?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Hibari opened his eyes halfway, reaching to lift the lid of the bento box and remove a piece of tamagoyaki. He studied it for a moment, asking, “What contribution did Kurokawa make?”

“The rice,” replied Haru.

“I’ll be sure to avoid it.” Ignoring Hana’s scoff, he ate the rolled omelet, testing the flavours against his taste buds. “Acceptable.”

“Jokes on you. I made the tamagoyaki,” sneered Hana.

“Very doubtful, since you needed to take extra assignments to keep from failing home economics last term.”

Hana set her hands on her hips in annoyance. “I don’t think you’re actually allowed to look at other students’ transcripts. I should be able to look at yours.”

“Try it and be bitten to death. Now leave or be quiet.”

“We’ll see you later,” promised Haru. “Happy birthday!”

“Enjoy your lunch,” said Kyoko.

“Happy Day of However You Came Into This World,” said Hana.

The three girls departed and it was only when they were out of sight did he let the amused smile surface.

…

Strolling through the halls in the transition period between classes, students hastily stepped out of his way, heads ducked and voices immediately lowering in volume. Hibari approached the corner and jumped back when a blue and purple blur suddenly whizzed past. He nimbly caught the speeding student by the arm, eliciting a very familiar yelp.

Chrome looked up at Hibari, eye wide. “Oh—hi!” she said, sheepish. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“There’s no running in the halls.”

She flinched as his grip increased in pressure, knowing there would be a few bruises left behind. “Sorry. I wanted to catch you before school was over.” She reached into the pocket of her school skirt and removed a purple lanyard, where there were two charms attached. The first was a beaded Hibird, made from yellow and orange beads. The other was a small version of Roll, made from silver and beige beads. “Happy birthday!”

Hibari ran his thumb over the smooth surface, lips quirking upwards when Hibird pecked at his craft counterpart curiously. He slipped the charms into the pocket of his shirt. “Leave it to you to come up with something sickeningly adorable.”

Chrome smiled knowingly. “You’re welcome.”

She didn’t get the chance to say anything else, for the bell sounded throughout the halls, and Chrome realized that she and Hibari were the only ones left and she was now late for class. The Cloud sent her a dangerous look and she quickly stepped forwards, giving Hibari a sweet kiss on the cheek before disappearing in a swell of Mist waves.

Shaking his head, Hibari muttered, not without some affection, “Lousy herbivore.”

…

Hibari felt the infuriating presence before he stepped into his office. A snarl curled across his lips at the sight of Mukuro lounging in his chair, feet thrown carelessly onto the desk. Hibari lunged forwards, aiming his tonfa at the illusionist’s ankles. Mukuro quickly snatched his feet back and the weapon slammed into the desk’s surface.

“Kufufufufu. Do you always celebrate your birthday by destroying your own furniture?” asked Mukuro with a grin.

“You’re trespassing,” growled Hibari. “Only students can be on school property.”

“What if I’m enrolling?”

“Over your dead body.”

Smirking, Mukuro dodged the next attack, materializing across the room. “As much as I would like to play with you, I can’t stay. I have lessons to drill into my useless student.”

Hibari caught the object Mukuro tossed at him. He unfurled a tie, light purple with darker accents. Near the bottom was a small embroidered white cloud. “Thoughtful. I can use it to strangle you.”

“You’d have to defeat me in a fight first,” countered Mukuro in amusement. “It may be your birthday, but I’m not that generous. I’ll see you tonight, Skylark.”

He started to disappear but was not fast enough—Hibari nailed the illusionist in the shoulder with his tonfa. Mukuro let out a hiss of pain before he vanished and Hibari grinned.

The male Mist would have a nasty bruise for a couple of days.

…

Hibari never cared much about his birthday. He didn’t care about birthdays in general. He thought they were frivolous and a waste of time. It wasn’t until later that he realized that he did care, so long as he had the right people around him to spend it with. People who understood that he didn’t want to make his day into a big deal, that he hated celebrations and did not like making it known.

He appreciated the quiet ‘happy birthdays’ said to him in the halls of Namimori High by his pack, the simple display of affection from the kids and the subtle, private delivery of presents that were meaningful, not flashy.

Hibari sat in the comfortable living room of the Sawada residence, observing those who surrounded him. He still despised crowds, but this was one particular crowd he didn’t mind. Fran and Lambo were playing video games on the television, Futa watching them and patiently interjecting when the cow child got a too excited. Kusakabe sat beside Hibari on the couch, I-Pin sitting in his lap doing her homework. Tsuna sat on Hibari’s left side, a bickering Gokudera and Yamamoto sitting on the floor in front of the couch. Ryohei was playing cards with Hana, Kyoko and Haru, and Chrome was getting her hair styled by Bianchi. Mukuro reclined in the chair, tolerating Hibird pecking at his face and neck, shooting Hibari narrow-eyed glares of accusation. Reborn was helping Nana in the kitchen, the aroma of hamburger steaks filling the house.

Hibari smiled.

“Hnn. Thanks, herbivores.”

#katekyo hitman reborn #khr #Hibari kyoya #hibarikyoyaweekend #Hibari Kyoya weekend #Vongola guardians #happy birthday hibari #forever family forever vongola

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codename-bewareofthefangirl · 7 years

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Konnichiwa, new follower here! I followed after reading your Akashi's ideal girlfriend reply, so, can I ask the same for Midorima? Interview said that Midorima likes older elegant girls and I have my hc that a girl kinda just kinda resembles Bakao would be great for him. Like you know, Midorima does put up with bakao after all

Hi dear new follower! Obviously I can, ask everything you want! Even because, honestly, MidoTaka is my favorite ship concerning Midorima and so, I agree with your reasoning. I’ve read in the interview that he likes older girls and…well, this eccentric OC popped up! I hope you enjoy her, this is what I picture when I think of his ideal girlfriend.

-she has a curvy, but toned body; straight black hair, she usually wears a ponytail. Narrow, catlike eyes and a smirk always present on his full lips. She moves like a dancer, has a suave and loud voice and enjoys feeling pretty. She wears what gives her a mature, but bold appeal and has a soft spot for lip-glosses.

-She’s an enthusiastic girl, with a bubbling personality; she loves teasing others, especially the emotionless or stiff ones. Energetic, hardworking and stubborn. Always in search of fun, new experiences and things to discover. However, she’s human like everyone else and so she’s her own weaknesses and insecurities: she looks for stability and certainty in other people, since she’s frequent mood swings; she is always afraid of being…excessive or annoying, but never says it directly. The fact that she jokes continuously, makes it difficult to understand when she’s serious, nervous and worried or when she’s simply being melodramatic and ironic. It’s as if she speaks by allusions, waiting for the other person to interpret and then reassure her. Due to her role, she’s also very diligent about her responsibilities and has all the qualities that make her a good leader.

-She’s the third-year leader of the Shuutako Cheerleading Team. Her passion is inspiring and supporting the athletes so they can do their best and achieve winning, feeling someone pushing their backs. She’s very popular at school, especially between the first-years, but has few close friends since she can be hard to deal with.

-She encountered Midorima during his first year. At first, she was feeling…dejected about the new, formidable player who seemed to attract all the spotlight on himself. She didn’t feel like cheering on him: he was a genius, he didn’t need it and just ruined the best part of basketball. However, seeing him playing, she started to change her mind, being attracted by his coolness, his calmness during the perfect shots…there was something magnetizing in his perseverance, in his self-confidence. Everything changed the day she had to stay at school longer than usual, to work on a particular difficult cheer, and ended up passing by the basketball’s gym; there, she found Midorima practicing without break, alone; he had fire burning in his eyes, focusing only on the ball and trying to perfect a movement that for her was already flawless. She remained awe-struck, she thought guy like him didn’t need to work hard, to sweat and fail, but she was wrong. Something inside her awoke and from that day she started to pay even more attention to him, noticing how serious and collected he seemed to be, but also all the different expressions sometimes his teammate could make him show…She wanted to see more, to discover more of what that guy hid inside of himself. So, she started ambushing him after practice. At first, Midorima was damn startled by that boisterous third-year, jumped out of nowhere, chirping about cheerleading and basketball and teasing him continuously, and he hoped for her to disappear and leave him alone. Unfortunately, she made acquaintance with Takao and the two, bonding immediately, formed the “How To Exasperate Shin-chan Club”. Her presence became a constant in his life: during lunch, she would kidnap the two of them, after practice she would stay back with them cheering loudly to put his patience to the test, during matches her voice would became the only one he could recognize. She was like a tornado, swirling into his life without escape. And, at some point, Midorima started to find stupidly cute the way her eyes enlightened when he showed an exaggerated reaction to her teasing, worth of praise the way she guided her cheering team like soldiers on the battlefield, sweet her smile when excitedly commenting his match afterwards. Midorima learnt to distinguish her genuine smile and the insecure, nervous ones; he searched relief from stress and pressure in her carefree enthusiasm. Before he could realize, he longed to hear her calling “Shin-chan!” while throwing her arms around his waist to see him blush.

-It takes them a bit to get together: she can never muster the courage to be direct, he just thinks that’s impossible. Thanks God, Takao is there to be the Cupid they need.

-Even after she graduates, she still comes to all the matches and cheers louder than everyone, much to his embarrassment.

-She loves to be cheesy and flirty just to see him stiffening and blushing. With time, though, Midorima builds up a good resistance to her and learns to tease her in his own way.

-Midorima rarely takes the initiative, since she does it for three people’s worth, but he’s very sensitive to her mood’s changes. When he realizes that she’s unsure or is trying to understand if she had exaggerated, he takes the first step and make sure she doesn’t doubt it anymore. He has enough patience for both.

-She likes to play the role of the older, mature woman that has to be respected and treats Midorima like he was a child. He always scolds, reminding her that first, he’s taller; second, with her personality she’s even more childish than him: she had lost the right to be respected when she burst crying because he didn't want to buy a cat.

-After they start dating, Midorima begins bringing her everyday her lucky item. Even if she had mercilessly mocked him for that from the start, she collects and keeps all of them. If someone touches her precious gifts, she become a beast.

-She’s the big, funny sister of Shuutako who spoils the first-years and mocks the older ones. Everyone love when she comes because Midorima softens and lets them breathe. (I have this head canon that Midorima is going to grow enough to be Captain in his third-year. A terrifyingly strict captain, balanced by his vice Takao)

-She gets along very well with Akashi and Midorima still doesn’t understand how the heck it’s possible

-Midorima had dunked only once in his life and only because she threw a tantrum about it. After he did it, she whistled saying “That was really sexy Shin-chan!” but then jumped in his arms laughing and added “But I prefer your cool three-point shots more!”

-One day, they were at the park for a walk but Midorima found a ball and an empty basketball court. He couldn’t resist and started trying few shots. She, pouting, decided to test his reactions and let some guys, wandering near, approach her. In less than a minute, the ball hit perfectly the head of one of the boys, followed by the too tall green-haired boyfriend. “I’m sorry.” Midorima threatened fixing his glasses and trying to murder them with a glare. She immediately burst into laughter, exclaiming, “You’re so jealous Shin-chan!” and kissing him on the spot. He growled, understanding she had played him again, but grabbed her either way by the wrist and dragged her far away from the bunch of astonished, terrified guys.

-Sometimes, they go to a basketball court and Midorima teaches her how to shot. It’s one of the few moments she blushes deeply and can’t calm down, being caught in his arms from behind and his low, cold voice whispering what to do in her ear.

-She has a soft spot for Midorima without his glasses and with hair combed back, she finds it really hot, so she frequently steals them. Little she knows that Midorima finds her wearing his glasses even sexier.

-Midorima secretly loves the quiet, serious and focused look that she unconsciously shows from time to time; for example, when she’s studying or when she’s reading a book in silence. It’s a rare sight, but he always catches and enjoys it.

-The number of sighs and defeated groans Midorima emits in her smirking presence can only balance with the number of faint, quick smiles he shows.

-She never stops moving, is hyperactive, so Midorima has to literally cage her against his chest to read his book peacefully. And being hold by him, it’s the only thing that calms her down probably.

-For pure luck, they’re going to study at the same university, even if with different majors. Thanks to that, she manages convincing him to live together in a shared apartment, much to his precocious ageing. Or, at least this is what he says, the truth is that the two years’ difference has always been something difficult to deal with for them.

-When they argue, she likes to take Midorima’s lucky item of the day and break it in front of his eyes, with a big, menacing smile plastered on her lips. Or, she stuffs his pillow with Natto. Midorima instead, just chooses the most impenetrable silence and avoids any kind of physical contact. That’s why she’s usually the first to apologize.

-She gets drunk easily and, in those cases, she can become really annoying or very whining; either way, Midorima just picks her up, throwing her on his shoulder, and bring her home scolding her during all the way back.

-Midorima starts to play the piano again only to listen to her singing.

-She cooks, he does the chores. It’s an established rule for survival.

-Midorima’s younger sister loves her. They build a strong bond and, when together, mess so much with Midorima that he usually tries to escape to Takao’s house. Everything fails when his best friends just joins the two devils and collaborate to his destruction.

-They call each other by their given names only in the most intimate moments, otherwise she calls him “Shin-chan” and he still uses her surname.

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