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pepperfield · 3 years

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Hayasaka, Relationship Expert Extraordinaire

Happy holidays, @spacepandar!! I had a great time writing your gift for the Oresama Exchange, I hope you like it!!

Rating: G Relationships: Hayasaka & Mafuyu, Mafuyu/Okegawa Characters: Hayasaka, Kurosaki Mafuyu, Okegawa Kyoutarou

Hayasaka isn’t qualified to comment on the way people conduct their romantic entanglements, but the day Kurosaki starts dating Okegawa, he gets the sinking suspicion that he’s about to become someone’s personal relationship coach.

Is that too pessimistic? After all, Kurosaki is pretty good at a lot of things that aren’t studying, and maybe dating is one of them. Besides the possible trouble that this development might cause him, Hayasaka is happy for her. Kurosaki likes to go on and on about her thrilling, adorable high school life, so having a boyfriend should be exciting for her. Too bad Hayasaka is probably going to be dragged into this excitement too, whether he wants it or not.

As expected, a few days into this new relationship, Kurosaki corners him in their club room, her arms raised as if primed to attack him for whatever nefarious reason.

“Hayasaka-kun,” Kurosaki barks, a deranged light in her eyes. “We need to go shopping!”

“Uh, for what?” he asks, raising his broom to fend her off if she tries to tackle him into a hug. Dammit, if only Yui were here to help even the odds!

“For my ~one~ ~week~ ~anniversary~,” she trills, spinning in three wide twirls that traverse the whole span of the room. Sometimes Hayasaka is amazed by the way she moves, and then she’ll do something like fall flat on her face while begging Ayabe for lunch.

That seems like a pretty fast milestone to celebrate, but what does Hayasaka know? “Okay, we’ll go after this. Help me wipe the table.”

She salutes him and gets to work vigorously scrubbing the table, moving at a speed that’s quick enough to strip a layer of wood away.

The problem with shopping with Kurosaki is that neither of them is a particularly skilled gift giver.

“What does Okegawa like?” Hayasaka asks as they peruse the shelves of the bookstore they’re in. Kurosaki is holding A History of Knives in one hand and Sew Your Own Plushies: 15 Kawaii Patterns for A Modern Princess in the other.

“...not books,” Kurosaki says blankly.

“Oh, right.”

They head over to a jewelry store next, and stare at the sparkling pendants and adorable earrings, completely overwhelmed by the options.

“Does Okegawa wear gold chains? You could get him one of those.” Hayasaka points to the display with gold chains of varying weights.

“I don’t think Banchou likes having things around his neck,” Kurosaki says as she examines a huge golden dragon brooch. “He always loosens his collar.”

“Hm. Maybe jewelry isn’t the right fit. What about something useful? Like hair gel,” Hayasaka suggests as they exit.

“That’s too boring! This is my anniversary we’re talking about, Hayasaka-kun!” She reaches her hands up, clutching at his shoulders to shake him.

Hayasaka’s head bounces back and forth like a balloon on a string. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

They wander in and out of three more stores before getting bored and going to the arcade to refresh their energy. Twenty rhythm game battles later, Kurosaki’s eyes suddenly light up.

“That’s it! The limited edition Space Nekomata-san!”

She points at the claw crane filled with those weird little cat guys from that one kid’s cartoon.

“You want one of those?”

“No! But Banchou would!”

Hayasaka watches dubiously as she shoves a couple hundred yen into the machine and begins moving the claw over to a Nekomata wearing a spacesuit. He expects the cat to flop right out of the claw’s grip, but somehow Kurosaki’s wiggling the joystick in such a way that it keeps the doll trapped as it travels toward the chute. Hayasaka holds his breath, but Nekomata-san makes it safely home.

“Perfect,” Kurosaki crows as she tucks the cat under her arm.

“Wait, how did you do that?”

“Oh, I’m just good at these kinds of games.”

“Teach me,” Hayasaka says, even though he doesn’t actually want a space cat.

“Hohoho, certainly, young man. Money please.” She holds her hand out until Hayasaka dumps some change into her palm. “First, we need to scope out the weakest member of the crew. See that loner in the corner? We’ll target him.”

Strategic. “Got it.”

Hayasaka watches as Kurosaki adds another Nekomata to her collection and then takes the helm. On his first attempt, he fails miserably, so of course he has to try again. And then again. By his fifth try, he’s no closer to winning, so Kurosaki illustrates again, and there’s now a third Nekomata sitting next to its brothers.

“One more try,” Hayasaka swears as he shoves another coin in the machine.

“You can do it!” Kurosaki cheers, but Hayasaka suspects she doesn’t believe it.

Twenty-five minutes and another four Nekomatas for Kurosaki later, Hayasaka finally succeeds in catching his own. What used to be a strange and unappealing mustached creature has suddenly become beloved in his eyes. He smiles down at the Space Nekomata in his hands.

“Hurray, Hayasaka-kun, you did it!!” Kurosaki wipes a single tear away from the corner of her eye, and Hayasaka doesn’t even have the heart to be offended.

“What are you two crying about,” a voice asks from behind them, and they whirl around to see Okegawa himself staring down at them.

“Banchou!” Kurosaki says, her face bright.

“M-Morse,” he replies gruffly, quickly hiding the bag in his hands behind his back. Hayasaka has to wonder at what point in a relationship people start calling each other by their actual names, but he decides it’s better not to ask. They’ll wind up married with kids who think their parents are named Banchou and Morse.

“Happy one week anniversary! I got you a gift!” Kurosaki thrusts her armful of Nekomatas at Okegawa, who takes a step back in slight alarm as he receives them. But his eyes begin shining shortly afterwards. Apparently Kurosaki knows her boyfriend better than Hayasaka thought.

“Space Nekomata-san? But why seven of them?”

“One for every day we’ve been dating!”

“Oh. Thanks, Morse.” Somehow he manages to reach over and pat her on the head even with his hands full of stuffed cats. “I…I got you something too.”

Hayasaka does him the favor of handing the bag over to Kurosaki, who pulls out what looks to be some kind of elaborate castle shaped headpiece. She gasps and immediately pops it on top of her head; how it stays there with no strap or clips, Hayasaka doesn’t know, but balancing things on her head has always been one of her skills.

“Look, Hayasaka-kun!” Kurosaki glitters at him like she’s waiting for a compliment.

“Uh, you look…like a princess?” he tries, and she scoffs.

“No, no, no, I look like the place where princesses live! The foundation that supports them! The ground they step on!”

“It fits you, Morse.”

“Thank you, Banchou!”

They smile at each other, on some alien wavelength that Hayasaka doesn’t understand, but it suits them well.

“Anyway, since it’s your big anniversary, you two should go on a date or something.” They both turn a brilliant red and jump away from each other, each muttering something that he can’t make out.

He squints at them for a moment as they avoid eye contact. “Why are you being so weird?”

“You can’t just- Morse and I can’t just suddenly…scuttle off on a date! That’s indecent!”

Huh?? “Don’t you two hang out together all the time? Isn’t a date the same thing?”

“No, a date is- you know,” Kurosaki says, waving her hand around in embarrassment. “Peak romance! Bubbles and flowers! Everything is pink!”

“Exactly!”

Hayasaka has no earthly idea what they’re talking about but he’s also never been on a date either, so they’re three idiots flying blindfolded without a license out here. “Then what have you two been- never mind. Look, just go out for cake and a movie. That’s a normal anniversary activity.”

“Oh. Are you sure?” Okegawa asks suspiciously.

No. “Yes.”

“I do like cake,” Kurosaki says. “Well, if I can’t trust my best friend, who can I trust?” Hayasaka can practically hear the bolded font. “C’mon, Banchou, we can get a slice of strawberry cake to share!” Okegawa is still a bit red, but he peers down at Kurosaki over the wall of Nekomatas in his arms and nods.

“Alright.”

Good. Hayasaka gives them a half-wave, half-shoo. “Have fun. Call me if anyone starts any trouble.”

“Okay! Thanks for your help today, Hayasaka-kun!” She flashes Hayasaka a double thumbs up and then scampers off with Okegawa toward the cafe.

Hayasaka watches them leave with his own Space Nekomata-san in hand, feeling some mixture of relief and accomplishment. With one date down, hopefully they can figure out the next one on their own. He doesn’t need the additional stress of chaperoning dates on top of his Public Morals Club duties — but if they ask him to, he supposes he’ll have no choice but to help.

#oresama exchange #oresama teacher #hayasaka #kurosaki mafuyu #okegawa kyoutarou #mafuyu/okegawa #hayasaka & mafuyu #spacepandar

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pepperfield · 11 years

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a visible hurt

Fandom: Homestuck Characters: Terezi Pyrope & Vriska Serket Rating: PG Summary:

sister: a female with whom one conspires; someone who backstabs, who plays the odds and kills off the weak and betrays the rest; someone who must be reigned in and tempered and dealt with personally. someone to be missed.

"Would you like me to heal your eyes?" Aranea asks. No, you want to say. No, can't you heal this wound instead? It shouldn't be too hard, it's just a clean stab through the back. But it hurts; it hurts like I could never have believed. But that's not a favor you can ask. After all, Aranea won't find anything there when she looks. You accept the first offer. -- Here's a riddle, the nothingness hisses in the dark. What has too many eyes, no heart, and bleeds cerulean? The answer is you, of course. -- In your best memories, she's laughing. She's filthy, dripping with colors that don't belong to either of you, and a searing flash of admiration lights you up, before you can rationalize it away. You know she's dangerous, but you can keep her in line. You can use her. The two of you could be meant for something great. You will choose to make this moment the last image of Vriska your eyes remember seeing. Vriska, perched on the branch next to you, all matted hair and dirty fingernails, glasses slightly askew and smile cracked. Your sister is beautiful, you will tell your burnt eyes. Your sister may smell like deceit, taste like brutality, and feel like betrayal, but she is beautiful all the same. -- Your story isn't a tragedy. It's a series of fatal errors, borne from the best and worst of intentions. It's unclear which are which. Who should shoulder more of the blame? You? Vriska? Does it really matter, out here in the vacuum? In this timeless corridor toward inevitable destruction (or is it redemption?). There's no living here. You're nothing but a puppet, a corpse with your innards cut messily out and strewn across the meteor in the form of indigo blood and cherry sugar water. You've lost enough already, how much will it really cost you to lose everything else? Goodbye, Dave. Goodbye, Karkat. You relinquish red. You embrace violet. You cannot forget blue. -- There's a happy ending to this whole mess, but you won't be able to find it. No, you missed that branch a long time ago. That doomed timeline goes something like this: You find the remains of each of your friends, save Karkat. Sollux, blinded and his skull cracked open. Tavros, stabbed. Equius, strangled. Nepeta, clubbed. Feferi, a hole burned through her chest. Eridan, halved. Kanaya, a wound in her stomach and trauma to her head. Aradia, long dead and left for a different timeline. Gamzee, a blood trail to nowhere. Vriska waits for you on the roof, tangerine and blueberry from head to toe. She smells tart, delicious. You know her plans. You know what she did. Only Tavros, she swears. It's the truth. Maybe you always knew. I've gotta go. I have a fight to win, she says. I can't let you. You'll get us all killed. But...is there anyone left to kill? You're not even sure if Karkat is alive. He hasn't answered your messages. Do you really think he won't find us eventually? Someone has to stop him from fucking everything up. Clearly, that someone's gonna have to be me. You read her again, and still, the same result. If she goes, you die. It's you or her. So you make the deal. Flip the coin. She steals your luck. Turns her back. And says, Come with me. One more campaign. The Scourge, together, one last time. In this timeline, doomed thousands and thousands of decisions ago, before either of you could have dreamed of the power you would have in your grasp now, you watch your own actions unfold. It doesn't have to be you or her. It could be both of you. It could be neither. This could be your justice. You could wipe the slate clean. You could be together again. Okay. Let's go. But there's a reason this isn't the alpha timeline. -- "I wouldn't know what to say to her," you confess to Karkat. That's not quite true. There are many things you might want to say. I forgive you. Please forgive me. We've both made our mistakes. You did your best, I understand now. You don't have to carry it all on your own. But when you see her again, if her ghost is still alive, this is what you'll tell her first: I'm happy to see you again.

#homestuck #scourge sisters #every quadrant in every combination #short fic

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