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writer-and-artist27 · 5 years

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Hikari and Haru

A gift to @wingbladeweaver1357 in return for the beautiful fanart. You made my day. I hope I make yours. :)

The song for one Haru? Over here.

The song Tomoko plays for one Hikari? Right here. From one of my favorite YouTube pianists.

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The little brunette girl was the first unexpected guest in my day. She could’ve easily blended in with the other customers at Nagareboshi Cafe, but the small tug on the ribbon tying the back of my dress was enough of a sign that things were different.

Thankfully, the song that was at my fingertips was already coming to a close once the tug happened, so I let the notes fade into the air before carefully turning around in my seat of the piano bench to look in that direction. “Yes?”

I was not expecting to see sparkles.

“Hi, nee-chan!” Bright teal-green eyes were beaming up at me, and I blinked. “You play really beautiful music!”

Ohmigosh, she’s cute, when did she get there? From her light blue hoodie and matching white-blue collared shirt, she certainly looked like a child any parent would grow to love. The side ponytail held up by one bright green scrunchie simply added to the charm. And the smile…

Awwww. I could’ve sworn I could see a reflection of myself in those big green eyes.

She is absolutely adorable. Hisako agreed with a solemn nod. Wanting to be a ninja maybe? She did sneak up on us.

I blinked. You didn’t notice her either?

My Nobody shrugged, the handle of Oblivion barely hanging onto her fingers. Your music is nice to listen to, Tomoko-chan.

Huh. Compliments were going all around today. I took a breath to calm the sudden onslaught of heat about to flood my face, putting on a kind smile. “Oh, really? Thank you, dear. Just when did you sneak up on me?”

“In the middle of your performance!’ The girl grinned at me, exposing what looked like bright white baby teeth, and I could already guess my newest companion was somewhere between 4-5 years old. “And I knew it!”

“Eh?” I inclined my head at the girl putting her hands together. She rubbed them for a few seconds.

I was also not expecting the small puff of smoke. Blinking, I rubbed at my eyes as the new pink rose made its appearance in the sweetie’s hands, and she offered the flower to me. “With that melody and that voice, you must be an angel sent from Heaven, nee-chan!”

Oh. Oh my. Oh my gosh.

She called you an angel. An angel. Wow. She one-upped Kakashi and took the words out of my mouth!

OHMIGOD, HISAKO. And, wait a minute. What do you mean by “one-up Kakashi”?

My Nobody simply threw her head back, long brown hair swishing and all, to cackle loudly.

Gosh darn it. The blush was hard to even fight back at this point because of how much my heart was pounding. From the bright grin being flashed towards me, I couldn’t deny that this little girl meant every single word. And I was supposed to be the one on the cafe job. Compliments were still something to get used to. “Th-Thank you?” I stammered, putting a hand to my chest as I could feel my voice crack just as much as my ribs from the happy juice. “I’m just a mere pianist though, dear.” A giggle left my lips as I reached over to lightly boop the top of her head. “As happy as I am to be called an angel, I’m just as human as you.”

“Ehhh?” The little girl pouted and scooted back a bit so I wouldn’t poke her again, puffing her cheeks while still offering the rose. “It’s true, though! Every time I hear you play, I get lost in your beautiful music, nee-chan~!” And with that hum in the air, the grin from before was back, and the rose was still sitting in her hands. “This is for you as thanks for the songs!”

“Oh dear…” the grin on my own face was unmistakable as I reached over to gently take the flower, gripping it as delicately as I could. I had no idea where it came from, but roses were just like any other flower — beautiful and deserving of quiet respect. “Thank you, ojou-san.” I sniffed the rose softly, taking in the scent of the sweet pollen before looking at her with a warmer smile. This was turning out to be quite the pleasant surprise. “Do you want me to play another song for you?”

“Eh? Really!?” Her mouth formed a surprised “o” for the briefest moment, her hands going back to rub the back of her head. “Is it okay, nee-chan?”

“Please, dear,” I took a page from Mama’s book, putting the rose down in a safe crevice near the piano stand to face her. My newest customer. She was certainly young, but for some reason, those green eyes reminded me of someone. “Call me Tomoko.”

“Tomoko-nee-chan?” she ducked her head and spoke the syllables slowly, and I held back the urge to squeal, feeling my smile grow to the point of stretching my cheeks. She was cute. So cute.

Was this how Kushina-nee felt when she first met me?

Maybe?

It was a nice thought.

“Hoshino Tomoko, ojou-san,” I said gently with a small waggle of my finger. “And you’re my customer now, and I’m your pianist for the day. So,” the girl’s teal-green eyes sparkled as soon as she raised her head to make eye contact. “Could I get your name?”

“Fujino Haruka!” The newly dubbed Haruka-chan beamed, swaying back and forth on her chair all the while. “Haru is fine too!”

“Haru-chan it is then,” I decided with a giggle back, not even minding the sparkles flying off her anymore. It was warm. “Then, for the sweet Haru-chan, Tomoko-nee-chan has a job to do, just for you.” I pressed the first key on the piano and closed my eyes, recalling the childish drawings of pink and blue dumplings coming together to raise one tiny yellow dumpling.

“As pianist of Nagareboshi Cafe, I welcome you to the Big Dango Family.”

I already decided with the first chords that I’d do what I can to make sure this little girl kept that smile on her face for the day.

There was no way I could allow the Third Shinobi World War to take another smile from my job. I couldn’t let it steal the innocence from another little girl who deserved better.

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Kakashi was surprisingly sulky as soon as Haru-chan left with that bright grin on her face. Even if his mask was hiding the bottom half of his face as always, the slight furrow of his eyebrows and narrowing of his eyes said otherwise.

I made sure to wipe some dust off the piano keys before facing him with a wry smile. “What is it, Kakashi?”

My best friend didn’t respond, simply getting up from his chair to instead plop himself down onto the piano bench next to me. I did my best to not move as soon as he leaned over to rest his head against my right shoulder. “Nothing,” he grumbled quietly. His silver spikes, if I leaned in just enough back, were close enough to tickle. “Just let me rest like this for a bit.”

Huh. He was sulking.

I decided not to question it and reached over with my left hand to gently pat his head. “Want a song?”

“…That’d be nice.”

I gently nudged him with my shoulder, holding back the urge to giggle. “Love you too, Kakashi.”

“Hn.” A pause. “Love you too.”

“Hee hee.”

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“What should I get around here…? Munny doesn’t really work as currency.”

Another unexpected guest around these parts. My Nobody casually shouldered the Oblivion Keyblade again, not even minding the books flying around her head. I get ninja, but it’s not every day we get new faces outside of the village.

Yep. Though, is she okay?

Don’t ask me. Ask her.

I couldn’t help but find myself fixated on the newest oddball sitting near the piano. Unlike my first unexpected guest, she was definitely not a child. Teenager, maybe even my age or older. She wasn’t even sitting in a chair near my piano bench, simply seated at one of the many tables surrounding the stage, her blue eyes frantically scanning the menu in front of her. Her short brown hair seemed to frame her face in a way that reminded me of Sora from Kingdom Hearts, and if the plaid blue-white pattern on her waist sash was any indication, Tetsuya Nomura must’ve had a hand in her clothing design. There was no other reason I could attribute the belts and zippers to.

Still, her eyes. Even if they were blue like Mama’s, they shined behind that menu like Haru-chan’s. Similar sparkles, even.

Maybe…

I gently got up from my piano bench to walk down from the stage and approach her, my voice already coming out in the waitress tone I’d been used to for years. “Excuse me, miss?”

She startled, putting her menu down just slightly to meet my eyes. Her blue eyes were wide with surprise. “Whoa! Uh, hi?” She scratched her cheek with her apparently fingerless gloved hand, looking sheepish. “Sorry for taking too long, I just don’t know what to get.”

I smiled and shook my head, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “There’s no trouble. I was just thinking of offering something instead.”

“Offer?” She gave me a questioning stare, her mouth caught between a frown and a pout. “What kind of offer?”

“It’s not too much, you’re just new around here, right?” She nodded, and the smile grew on my face. “Well, I’m Hoshino Tomoko, your pianist for the day in Nagareboshi Cafe. And it is my policy to play a song for any new faces. So, how do you feel about sitting next to me on the stage to listen?” Those blue eyes widened again once I gestured to the grand instrument sitting behind me. “Maybe the song could give you an idea of what you’d like to eat.”

What looked like a conflicted smile passed over her face. “Tomoko-san, I wouldn’t want to trouble you—”

“Nonsense,” I said immediately, finding myself fondly rolling my eyes. With the way her shoulders were tensing and the simple stunned, fish-like look on her face, she definitely reminded me of Sora. And, for a childhood hero… “You’re a customer. I’m the pianist. And,” I winked at her, “the pianist has to serve the customer first, no?”

The wide look in her eyes was back before she threw her head back to laugh. “Okay then! I don’t know what else to do, so sure!” She swayed forward to grin at me, offering her hand. “I’m Leonhart Hikari.”

Wait, isn’t that—

I held back a giggle.

Hikari-san sat there, blinking. “Tomoko-san?”

“I-I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you,” I took her hand and shook it, feeling myself smile back. “It’s just, you share the same name as my Mom. Just as pretty and sincere.”

“Oh,” she said, blinking. Once the handshake finished, she took her hand back to rub the back of her neck. “Does that make it awkward or—”

“No no no,” I reached over to gently grab her free hand. “It’s just funny. Now I know just want to play for you.”

“What’s that?” Hikari, thankfully, didn’t seem to mind my guiding her to the piano, so once I was back on my familiar piano bench with Hikari taking a seat next to me, I could feel the smile on my face start to stretch my cheeks.

That pink rose from Haru-chan was still sitting on the piano, just in a small vase thanks to Papa. It was enough inspiration.

“You’re Hikari, another bit of light, sooooo…” I uncovered the piano keys to take a breath, “why not play a song such as Hikaru Nara to honor that light?”

I never got to play the song before. It was well about time to honor that pianist-violinist duo who made smiles out of a shared lie.

#fujino haruka #hoshino tomoko #hisako #leonhart hikari #writing #oc crossover #civilian pianist #hatake kakashi #long post #For Wing #gift

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andreaphobia · 6 years

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fic: the aerodynamic properties of eggs. (HARUKA & MAKOTO)

Characters: Haruka/Makoto, Kisumi, Asahi Wordcount: ~2200

Summary:

Makoto eggs Haruka's house for a dare, then ends up asking him out.

Also on AO3.

If this was the last thing Makoto ever did, he wanted everyone to know that it was one hundred percent, without a shadow of a doubt, entirely Kisumi’s fault.

He can think of roughly a million other places he’d rather be, and a billion other things he’d rather be doing. Like... flossing, or folding his underpants. Doing his math homework. Literally anything besides standing in the middle of a dark street somewhere in his neighborhood, clutching a carton of eggs, and trying not to hyperventilate until he blacks out.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and without having to look, he knows what it says. It’s either Kisumi or Asahi, reminding him of the terms of their game. Trying to make sure he doesn’t chicken out. This is a real problem when it comes to Makoto, who is not big on rule-breaking as a whole. Without the reminder that someone out there is keeping tabs on him, he probably wouldn’t be here at all.

Fortunately for the two of them, while Makoto doesn’t make a habit of juvenile delinquency, he is susceptible to peer pressure. Which brings us to the present: Tachibana Makoto has to egg someone’s house.

Why? Because he was dared to, and Kisumi and Asashi already did: it’s as simple as that. Furthermore, neither of them got caught doing it, which raises the stakes somewhat. Now, not only does Makoto have to egg a house, he must also completely avoid detection, Mission Impossible-style. And, if he should be caught, he’s on his own—he’ll have to talk his own way out of it.

(Such are the ways of young men and the idiotic games they play with each other.)

In the first place, Makoto wonders, in increasingly growing dismay, how does one egg a house? He hasn’t the faintest idea. Oh, sure, he can make an educated guess based purely on the necessary physical logistics of it—you know, reach into carton, grasp egg firmly in hand, fling egg, repeat until someone calls the cops, and then hightail it out of there.

But it’s the other stuff that isn’t so clear. Should he stand on the sidewalk to maintain plausible deniability, or get way up close so he doesn’t miss? Would it be more efficient to try throwing the whole carton at once, and, if so, should he do it underhand or overhead? Is an airborne egg likely to retain its physical integrity as it flies, or is there a chance of, say, spontaneous egg combustion?

His phone buzzes again, insistently, and he almost drops the entire carton of eggs on his foot.

“Okay, okay, I got it already,” he mumbles, although it’s not like Kisumi or Asahi can hear him. There’s nothing else for it—he has to do it, consequences be damned.

Makoto fumbles the carton open, then stares at the contents within, immediately paralyzed by the array of choices laid out before him. Should he start with the egg in the top left corner? The one next to it? How much of an effect does the size and shape of the egg have on its aerodynamic properties? Also, does any of this even matter?

He shuts his eyes and snatches one at random, partially squishing it in his panic. This almost certainly compromises its aerodynamic properties; nevertheless, with eyes still shut, he draws his arm back over his shoulder and then flings the fistful of crushed egg in the general direction of the house. And that’s when the lights go on.

Makoto leaps several feet into the air, lets out a high-pitched whisper-scream, and actually does drop the carton of eggs on his foot. Then stumbles, and steps on them, for good measure. A shadowy figure has peeled away from the tree in the front yard, solidifying into the shape of a man. The man is holding a flashlight, the beam of which is pointed directly at Makoto’s face, blinding him.

“So,” a gruff voice says, “you’ve been egging houses on this street, have you?”

“NO!” Makoto wails, immediately. He shields his eyes, which allows him to sort of make out some of the details of the figure who’s standing in the yard pointing the flashlight at him. An adult. An older man, who looks very grumpy indeed. And not at all impressed by Makoto’s denial, either—understandably, given the egg bits dripping from his hand and the carton of broken eggs under his feet.

“A likely story,” the man says, brusquely. “Trying to play dumb even though you’ve been caught in the act, eh?” At last, he lowers the flashlight and crosses his arms, which gives Makoto’s eyes a bit of a reprieve. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

Without any apparent input or engagement from his brain, Makoto’s mouth leaps into action. He babbles something only partially coherent about a dare, something about his friends doing it first and feeling like he had to and he’s really sorry he didn’t mean it he’ll never do it again he doesn’t even like eggs—

“—I see,” the man interrupts, after listening to this word vomit for a solid twenty seconds. “A dare... is that right?” He shakes his head, sighing heavily. “You know, lad, you’re about my Haruka’s age. You really ought to know better.”

Alarm bells are going off in Makoto’s head, but unfortunately his brain is still out to sea, so his mouth can no longer be stopped. It has latched on to the name ‘Haruka’ as someone who can be used as an excuse, and barrels on into oblivion, guns a-blazin’.

“Haruka—um—we—it—my friends dared me—because we’d—gone out on a date—but it didn’t—I mean—we didn’t work out—but I still—”

The man stares at him.

“You... went out with Haruka?” he asks, in a very funny tone of voice.

There’s a lengthy pause, during which Makoto’s brain labors to catch up to the conversation of the past couple of minutes. Then another one, during which he screams internally and tries to rewind time to that period of blissful ignorance, before he was aware of the words that had just come out of his own mouth.

“Uhm...” Finally, Makoto decides that—if nothing else—he can at least make his story internally consistent. (He intuits that this will probably be a mark in his favor, when he’s going up on the stand in juvie court.) “Yes...?”

It comes out sounding like a question, but fortunately the man doesn’t seem to notice. He fixes Makoto with an unreadable look, which lasts for so long that Makoto hyperfixates on the feeling of the sweat dripping down the back of his neck, and starts to panic.

Then the man switches off his flashlight, tucks it under his arm, and turns over his shoulder to bellow, “HARUKA! Get out here!”

After an excruciating minute, the porch light on the front of the house comes on, and the front door swings open. A slim figure emerges from the house wearing flip flops, trotting down the gravel pathway and then down the lawn (taking care to avoid the aborted egg splatter that only ended up making it halfway to the house).

The figure comes up next to the man, who Makoto assumes is his dad, and looks back and forth between the two of them, expressionlessly.

“...What?”

Makoto gulps. Okay, first of all, Haruka is a guy. Which—not a bad thing, but definitely a surprise. Second of all, he’s—uh—how do you say it? Oh, right—smokin’ hot. Shorter than Makoto, with dark, silky hair and blue eyes; nice wrists and cheekbones, and a tight waist that looks just the perfect size for Makoto to grab him by and carry him around. Nice mouth, too, and kinda... sexy... lips. (Even in the privacy of his own head, this thought is enough to make him blush.)

“Boy said he wants to talk to you,” Haruka’s father says, his voice gone weirdly gruff again. “I’ll—uh—leave you two to it.”

“I thought you were trying to catch the kid who was egging houses on our street.”

“Never you mind that. Just—tell me about it later, okay?”

He claps Haruka on the shoulder affectionately, then turns and heads back up into the house.

Haruka watches him leave blankly. Eventually, he turns back to Makoto. He doesn’t say anything, however, and at this point Makoto becomes acutely aware that he is still standing there with egg drippings on his hand, and is standing on a carton of eggs. (As far as good first impressions ago, he figures this probably doesn’t even make the top two hundred.)

“Uh—sorry.” Good start—but future prospects are dim. Anyway, given the fact that he’s been caught with egg on face (and hand—and shoe), he feels like he may as well be honest. What has he got to lose? “My friends dared me to egg your house, and your, um, your dad caught me. So I told him that we... er...” This part is a bit of a sticking point, but he stands firm, “...that it was because we... um... broke up.”

Haruka blinks.

“But we’ve never dated,” he points out, quite reasonably.

“You’re right, we haven’t.”

“I don’t think we’ve even met.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

With the facts of the matter confirmed, Haruka lapses back into what appears to be a thoughtful silence. Makoto is just starting to wonder if he can excuse himself to go wash the egg off his hand yet when Haruka finally speaks.

“But we need to break up anyway.”

“Uhm...” Makoto tries to think about this logically, but his brain is fried. He shrugs, instead. “I guess so? Yeah.”

Haruka nods, like it’s all starting to make sense now. “So we should go out on a date.”

“Yeah, we—wait, what? That wasn’t what I—”

Makoto’s idiot mouth is on the cusp of producing another stream of idiocy when his brain finally seizes the wheel, stopping it in its tracks before it can scuttle his chances with smokin’-hot Haruka any worse. “You... want to go out with me?”

“It only makes sense,” Haruka says—slower this time, as though he’s talking to a moron, which is both kinda funny and also really rude. “We need to break up. But we’ve never dated. So we should date... so that we can break up.”

Makoto blinks. If you selectively disengage all the parts of the brain that process conscious thought, he supposes it almost starts to make a weird kind of sense.

“Uh... where do you... want to go, then?”

Haruka doesn’t hesitate. “The beach. I’m free this weekend.”

On some level, Makoto is starting to feel as though he is perhaps just having a very weird and specific dream. However, dream or not, Haruka still has a sexy mouth and a sexy everything else, too, so at this point it seems reasonable to decide that he’s just going to go wherever this wild ride takes him.

His phone buzzes again, reminding him of its existence. Thanks to that, it occurs to him that maybe they should exchange numbers, so he reaches into his pocket to grab it, and by the time he remembers he has eggy hands it’s already too late.

“Oh, crap—darn it.” Helplessly, he wipes his phone screen off on the seat of his jeans, and then his hand as well, because what the hell, right? “Here, do you want to give me your number, then? Sorry about the... um... the egg.”

Haruka takes the phone from him without a word, dials in a number, then hands it back. Makoto saves it into his contacts, then returns the phone to his pocket.

That seems to be that, and he’s not sure what to do next, so he just laughs, awkwardly. “So... see you on Saturday, I guess...?”

“Bye,” Haruka says, turning to go back into his house.

Part of Makoto feels like he’s won the lottery; another part suspects he’s actually making a mistake. (The last part just enjoys the sight of Haruka walking away; those jeans look like they were made to be peeled off of him.)

The door shuts behind Haruka, and then the porch light goes out, leaving Makoto standing alone in the dark.

For quite some time, he doesn’t move, still processing the events of the last ten minutes. Eventually it occurs to him that he’s got texts waiting, and re-extracts his phone. There are several unread messages in his inbox:

10:31pm > no waiting! no pulling out! the house must be egged! THE GAME HAS SPOKEN!

10:32pm > did you get caught?

10:37pm > you got caught, didn’t you?!

10:40pm > WE’RE DISAVOWING ALL KNOWLEDGE OF YOU, OPERATIVE MAKOTO!!!

Makoto sighs, scrapes a fleck of egg shell off his phone’s screen, and hesitantly types out a reply to the last message.

10:42pm > I’m not really sure what just happened, but I... got a date, somehow?

The reply is nearly instantaneous (“WHAT?!?!?!”, though depicted here with less punctuation for brevity’s sake), but Makoto has already put his phone away. After being put through the wringer like that, the least he can do for revenge is make them wait a couple of hours for all the juicy details.

As he reaches down to scoop up his ruined carton of eggs, it occurs to him that he never told Haruka his name. Makoto’s gotta admit, he admires the chutzpah of a guy who’ll ask a complete stranger out without even knowing what to call him. Well, that’s what he got Haruka’s number for (and thank God he’d had the foresight for it).

Feeling strangely cheerful for no particular reason at all, he picks up his eggs and heads on home.

#free!#free! anime #makoharu #harumako #fic #a love letter to quirky haruka #written by an unexpectedly smitten makoto #fake exes

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brites · 7 years

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How about a story where Rin teases bf Mako about his burp fetish by letting out big, ample belches left and right, until he makes himself a little ill, so Mako has to give Rin's belly some rubbing, resulting in Rin's biggest burps yet, which cures his bellyache and leaves Mako smitten.

(Bacon_Tornado here. Long time. Hope this makes up for the absence! ^^)

Rin Matsuoka was a sadist. There were no two ways about it. What other kind of person would go so far outof their way to relentlessly and shamelessly torment their lovers the way Rindid?

It was literally the only explanationMakoto Tachibana could come up with to explain why Rin savored being such anunyielding tease around Makoto.

Of course, Makoto being Makoto, hisfirst instinct was to blame himself before blaming his troublesomeboyfriend. It all started that damnedlunch last week. Makoto had cooked up aproverbial feast for him and Rin to enjoy, but Makoto had underestimated Rin’sappetite. Rin had utterly plowed throughevery scrap of food the big tanned teen had whipped up for the two. And at the end of that meal, the bloated,shark-toothed boy let out a burp so loud that had Makoto been sitting anycloser, he might have legitimately gone deaf. In that moment, Makoto made the mistake of blushing. Rin wasn’t sure at first, but when a second,wall-rattling burp exploded from Rin’s toothy maw, one look at Makoto’s pantswas all it took to see how excited he was.

It was all over from there.

Rin just wouldn’t let up. Now, he took every chance he got to tease hisboyfriend about that blasted fetish which Makoto tried his damnedest to hidefrom Rin. Makoto hated it and loved itsomething fierce at the same time. Butstill hated it, and hated just how much Rin loved making Makoto a flusteredmess.

Makoto had just gotten to Rin’s place,and was already dreading things. It hadbeen a long day, and Makoto just wanted to relax with his boyfriend inpeace. But he knew that when it came toRin, peace was never an option.

As soon as Makoto opened the door, helooked around, waiting and aware. “Yo,Mako! In the living room, come on in’ntake a loadoff,” Rin called out from afar. Makoto blinked with surprise as how casual and normal Rin’s responsewas. So, he nodded, took his jacket offand headed over to the living room. Rinwas leaning against the corner right of his couch, casually watching TV. He was wearing a sleeveless black tanktop,which seemed to be rather tight against his muscular torso, sweat pants, andsocks. His expression was prettyneutral. Pleasantly so in fact!

“Hey, Rin. What are you watching?” Makoto asked, still not entirely off guard.

Rin shrugged and said, “Eh, samecrap. Come on over’n take a load off.”

Makoto blinked again, eyeing Rin upsuspiciously. But after a moment, henodded and sat down next to his lounging boyfriend. The two watched some programs together, buteventually, it came to an end, and Makoto found things went rather smoothly. Perhaps Rin grew bored of being a monumentaltease, or just got it all out of his system at this point.

…Then Rin’s brow furrowed, and hestarted rubbing his stomach from under his shirt. Immediately, Makoto’s heart sank when he sawRin expose his abs to him while rubbing away at his belly. “…Rin…what are you doing?”

“Mph, oh nothing,” Rin said with aslightly strained look on his face until he rubbed a little more firmly intohis exposed stomach.

Then, it happened.

“BRAAAAAUUUURRRP!”

Makoto’s face went bright red as Rinlurched forward and let out a deep, hefty sounding belch.

When it ended, Rin reeled his head backand sighed with relief. “Oof, heh, thatone’s been waiting to come out,” Rin groaned contently as he leaned back andpatted his bare stomach proudly. Withhis stomach still exposed, Makoto noticed something. Rin’s perfect, six pack abs were visible,true, but Rin’s stomach, as a whole seemed, just ever so slightly bloated andtauter than usual.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist tofigure out why.

“…How much soda did you drink?” Makoto asked in a deadpanned manner.

Then, that wicked, toothy grin returnedto Rin’s face. It was the smirk thatMakoto dreaded, which let him know exactly what he was in for.

“Lots,” Rin said with a wink, before hesmacked his chest, threw his head back, and let out another resounding belchinto the air, letting his shirt fall back down, but was still crinkled enoughto leave portions of his stomach still exposed to Makoto.

“You’re sinister, you know that?” Makoto said, cheeks burning red.

“Oh, wait wait! Hold that thought!” Rin said almost eagerly as he sat up straightand rested a hand against his stomach. Then, Rin burped deeply, but once it ended, looked dissatisfied. “Aw, fuck, that was weak.“

Rin started patting his stomach againand again to try and work up the pressure in his belly, occasionally working upwet, strained sounding burps. Each onefeeling like it pattered off too soon. And all the while, Makoto felt more blood rushing up to his face anddown to his loins. He hated this so muchand wanted to tell Rin to stop, when suddenly, Rin’s face lit up again.

“Oh, there weg-ooooouUUUUUUUUURRRrrrp!”

Makoto nearly fainted then and therewhen Rin pressed firmly against his stomach and let out a forceful, resoundingbelch mid sentence. When it ended, Rinsighed breathlessly and slapped his belly in satisfaction.

“Jesus fuck, did I need that, phew…”Rin said, letting his tongue hang out of his tooth maw for a moment while Rinjust sat there, contently rubbing his stomach firmly enough to once again hikehis shirt and expose his stomach to Makoto. Then, after a few moments of this, he smiled ‘innocently’ back at Makotoand said, “I’m sorry, were you saying something, Mako?”

“…You’re the worst,” Makoto said, tooflustered to say much else.

Rin just nodded shamelessly and leanedforward so he was mere inches away from Rin’s face. He then took a gulp of air, and proceeded tolet out a muffled belch that reverberated audibly behind Rin’s closed mouth, beforeblowing the burp against Makoto’s cheeks in a breathy fashion. “Ahh, I know.

Now, Rin was never shy about burpingaround Makoto even before they were boyfriends. Granted, Rin had enough self-restraint to try and maintain his mannersout in public. But whenever alone withfriends or boyfriends, if Rin needed to burp, he burped, and usually it wasquite loud at that. What Makoto didn’trealize before getting hooked up with RIn was just how talented he actuallywas. Even without soda or food in hisbelly, Rin could burp on command and still put almost anyone else to shame withthe exception of Haruka or Nagisa, who could probably bring down a building,despite being such a little guy.

All of that was to say, when Rin hadsoda, specifically as much soda as Rin had actually chugged down, Rin couldkeep going for hours, especially when each burp made Makoto squirm sohelplessly. It satiated Rin more thanany five-star meal ever could.

Or rather, he would, were it not forhow his stomach sometimes betrayed him. Even with all that pressure in his gut, Rin had to force a lot of thatair up, especially to make them as loud and as long as he was currently doing. And sooner or later, that shift in pressurein his stomach was bound to come back and bite him.

That moment came when Rin tried lettingout an especially long burp, and ended up gagging and hiccuping instead. Immediately, Rin’s stomach gurgled deeply,and the crimson haired boy ended up groaning with discomfort.

“Oof, ohhh fuck,” Rin grumbled indiscomfort, rubbing his stomach gingerly.

“What, you got a big one coming?” Makoto said in an annoyed and still everflustered tone.

“Mph, *urp*, n-no, my gut feels kindaweird,” Rin responded, still tending to his gurgling tummy.

When Makoto heard Rin’s belly burbleforth an especially loud churn, his scowl faded, and he looked back at hisboyfriend with some concern.

“Ah, jeez, you overdid it, didn’tyou?” Makoto remarked. “Why couldn’t you just quit while you wereahead?”

“And miss seeing you a flusteredmess? I’d literally rather die…okay,not-*UuURrrRrrP*-mph, n-not really,” Rin responded, his arm protectivelywrapped around his tummy in discomfort.

Makoto rolled his eyes then scootedcloser to Rin, taking his hand away and hiking Rin’s shirt up. Indeed, his stomach looked a little morepuffed out than it was moments ago, thinning his abs out just a littlemore. Steadily, Makoto rested his handagainst Rin’s taut belly, feeling it gurgle deeply beneath his palm, makingMakoto sweat just a little more. Andthen, he started gingerly rubbing away.

Almost immediately, Rin’s eyelids wentdown to half mass, and he practically melted into the couch with how relaxed hewas.

“Ohhh man, Mako. That’s literally the best feeling in theworld,” Rin practically purred while Makoto tended to his troubled abdomen. Cruel and malicious tease as he might havebeen, the sight of Rin so contented and happy always brought a smile toMakoto’s face. So, this only encouragedhim to keep tending to Rin’s belly until he felt better. His fingers firmly yet gingerly dug into thetaut, warm flesh of Rin’s stomach as he caressed every inch of that smoothbelly, occasionally tracing his index finger around Rin’s belly button.

But then, with Rin’s stomach muscles sorelaxed, the pressure causing it distress was no longer feeling pent up.

Makoto felt a surge of warmth rush fromRin’s belly as it let out a deep rumble. Then, a mere moment later, Rin’s eyes were open, and shortly after, sotoo was his mouth.

“BRRRAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRRRUUUUUP!!!!!!”

Makoto gaped when Rin unleashed a trulythunderous belch, one with enough force behind it that Makoto would swear hefelt the couch rumble beneath the two. On top of that, with the pressure, Makoto could actually feel Rin’sstomach deflate just slightly beneath his palm.

After a whopping nine seconds straight,Rin gasped breathlessly, and almost immediately, let out another positivelycolossal belch.

“BWWWOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRP!!!!!”

And following that tremor, Rin let outone more, shorter, but equally titanic belch right after that.

When it ended, Rin moaned in utterbliss and reeled back in his seat.

“Ohhhhh Jesus fuck. That felt gooooood…” Rin moaned in purerelief and bliss, practically going cross-eyed.

Makoto didn’t say a word. He was frozen in plaace with his hand stillfirmly grasping Rin’s bare belly. Hisface practically a tomato with how utterly red it was. But one look down at the rather large tent inMakoto’s pants told him exactly what he needed to know.

Rin flashed Makoto a toothy smirk andleaned back in his seat, arms behind his head, and Makoto’s hand still frozenagainst Rin’s belly.

“…Satisfied?” Makoto finally squeaked, still completelysmitten and completely stiff in more ways than one.

“Yep!” Rin said cheerfully as he reached over and turned the TV back on, casualas could be.

All in all, operation “Fluster theeverloving hell out of Mako” was a resounding success…

“Oh wait, something I forgot,” Rin muttered, holding up a finger in a ‘wait a moment’ fashion. Then, he pounded his chest firmly one last time. “AAAAuuUUuuUurrrrp! Heh, s’cuse me,” RIn said casually before enjoying his favorite program, while Makoto was now on the verge of fainting…

Yep. It was a cruel and unusual ‘mission accomplished’ indeed.

#burping #burp kink #matsuoka rin #makoto tachibana #rin x mako #free!#belly #belly rubs #belly kink #rinistheworstseriously

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syao · 7 years

Text

[Aoharu x Kikanjuu] Dear Goemon-san

Summary: [Midori x Tachibana]. The story of how a tech-challenged pediatrician inevitably fell in love with a young woman who earned his elusive interest, told through postcards and notes.

"I wanna see you soon, Tachibana-san!" Fujimoto Takatora looked nothing like his fear-striking alias on the battlefield at the moment. Tears and snot mixed freely on his face as The Assault Destroyer clasped the small, calloused hands of Tachibana Hotaru. He was unmindful of the airport crowd that streamed past them, some doing double-takes at the scene he was making. "B-But I know I can't wish that. You'll only come home if Papa-san doesn't get better so… so…"

The petite sixteen-year-old offered him a warm smile in return. "No matter how long it takes, we will meet each other again… and duel!"

"You're overreacting, idiot." Tossing her dark hair in boredom, Ichi Akabane looked unimpressed as usual. "You can just message her online or something. In fact, you can even do it in half a day or so."

"B-But…"

Tachibana nodded gratefully as she pressed a few keys on her mobile phone. "Absolutely! Here, let's all exchange numbers and Twitter handles—"

"Nope," the raven-haired woman was quick to retreat from the group, her ponytail bobbing along. "Any act of friendship grosses me out."

"Sorry, Tachibana-san!" The towering white-haired doctor pressed his hands together in apology. "I have her info if you want. I'm just not sure if it's updated though because she always changes her account details whenever she learns that I peeked through the personnel records for them."

"A-Ah, no, it's okay!" She beamed as she watched the nurse's diminutive figure disappear into the crowd. "Tachibana is really glad that she came to see me off, though."

Her phone's Bluetooth notification beeped.

"That's mine." Hosokawa Haruka informed her somberly, glancing up from his own device. "And that's my Nii-san's," he added when another beep sounded. "And that's his vital statistics. And his likes and dislikes. And his candid photos from my private offline collection," he identified as a series of beeps rapidly sounded off. "Make sure to remember Nii-san with all that— he will be very happy if he knows you won't forget him."

A sweatdrop formed on her head. "Y-You know, Haruka-san, Tachibana wouldn't have forgotten Haruki-san even if you didn't go through the trouble of sending all these. He is, after all..." She beamed at him. "... an important comrade of mine."

To her puzzlement, the male's brows furrowed in a displeased fashion. "A comrade? Just a comrade? Are you sure you can't see him as anything else?"

"E-Eh?"

"Maybe I should send you some more provocative pictures of him to make sure…"

"Now, now, Haruka." A grinning figure emerged from the back to tap the man's shoulder. "Stop pimping your elder brother and leave him with some amount of dignity after this."

"Midori-san!" Hotaru raised a palm to greet him. "Thank you for seeing Tachibana off as well."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." He grinned at her fondly as he handed her a gift-wrapped box. "Our farewell gift."

"T-Thank you." Her eyebrow cocked up suspiciously. "This wouldn't happen to be something that'll set off the TSA alarm when Tachibana gets to America, right?"

"You are wary of me. Good girl," he nodded approvingly at her. "But no, I'm afraid it's just a little token of gratitude from Hoshihiro— ah, you're unwrapping it already right in front of your gift-givers! Your eagerness warms my heart like so, young lady."

"If Tachibana will be caught by the airport cops, Tachibana wants to know as early as now how she can explain it to Mother— oh!" Her verdant eyes shook when she saw the familiar white naval hat that everyone in the Team Hoshihiro wore during TCG battles.

"We all think the world of you, Tachibana-san," explained Fujimoto as the girl ran her fingers appreciatively over the peaked cap fabric. "And we would have gladly stolen you away from your team if only you were less attached to them."

"But then again, that almost-naive loyalty of yours is what makes the person you are now," added Haruka quietly.

"And we'll always think of you as our honorary member, the best one we never had." With the trademark gentleness of his ward's most beloved pediatrician, Midori placed the cap carefully on her crown. "Safe travels, Tachibana-kun. We wish your father a speedy recovery."

She blinked, then grinned warmly at everyone. "Thank you, Hoshihiro!"

"Oh, by the way…" Midori stepped closer to her and crouched down till his lips aligned with her right ear. "Won't you be asking for my contact details, Tachibana-kun?"

"H-Huh?" Her hand shot up to cover her ear protectively.

"If you don't write to me, I'll get a bit lonely," he continued huskily, enjoying her reaction to his ministrations.

Her sigh of exasperation rang out clearly. "You don't even know how to text, Midori-san."

Touche. "Oh well, I'll have to settle for this then." And before she could react, he pulled the brim of her cap down until it covered the entire half of her face.

Then with the smooth soundless movement minimally expected of an airsoft elite, he bent down and planted a light kiss on the visor, just right above the small tip of her nose.

"W-What, what?" Hearing the collective gasps around her, Hotaru pulled up the cap from her eyes in panic, but only saw the doctor's grinning face. To her embarrassment, she felt heat rush to her cheeks. "W-What did you guys do now? Midori-san?"

Instead of responding, he gave her a slight nudge towards the gates. "You'll be late for your flight."

"F-Fujimoto-san!" Hotaru shifted her eyes towards her biggest ally among the group. The latter still seemed surprised, but he had recovered enough to nod at her reassuringly.

"Tricking Tachibana even till the very last moment. Really, you guys." She offered them a final wave before heading for the concourse.

"You're declaring a war against me and Nii-san, huh," muttered Haruka, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Midori let out a laugh. "What a hot-tempered otouto! This old man was merely giving his favorite protégé a proper send-off."

"You're the reason predators in the society continue to exist. Scum."'

"It's been awhile since I've last felt this truly despised outside the battlefield. Good times."

Meanwhile, Fujimoto sadly glanced back at the crowd where he was sure Ichi was, certainly watching like a silent hawk. You definitely saw it, too, didn't you, Ichi?

It was the briefest of moments, but he swore he saw it sometime before that farewell prank kiss.

Reluctance.

It was an alien notion to think of in terms of the Midori-san he knew who had painstakingly maintained the barrier between utility and attachment in all of his relationships for years. He was someone who could let go even of a soul he had once saved from darkness.

That you made him feel that way even for a moment… The kind-hearted doctor shook his head in awe. You're even more amazing than I thought, Tachibana-san.

"Look, Papa! The statue's so big!" A young girl in pigtails eagerly pointed to the postcard stuck on the corkboard. "Is it Kami-sama?"

"Young lady, that is the Statue of Liberty in America." Somewhere in the middle of looking at the travel postcards Midori Nagamasa had conveniently placed across his desk, the child barely noticed the vaccine injection that he had quietly made. He didn't even have to summon Fujimon to take on his usual role and distract his little patient.

"Why do you have Liberty-san's picture, Sensei?" asked the girl, eyes widening in curiosity.

He glanced up quickly at her to smile before resuming his scribbles on his doctor's pad. "My friend sent it to me. She lives there right now."

"Do you miss her?"

Before he could respond, the child's father guffawed. "Of course not, Baby! Sensei has many pretty nurses and mommy friends who come to his office! Ne, Sensei?" He winked at him conspiratorially, as if they were close buddies.

Garbage.

He paused from writing long enough to smile brightly at him. "Indeed. Let's especially not forget your lovely wife who visits me from time to time, begging me desperately for a Sildenafil prescription."

It was then that Ichi, with her too conveniently impeccable timing, entered the room with an airmail envelope.

"Sensei, a letter came in for you." She eyed the colorful postcards littering the board in quiet disdain before meeting his gaze.

"Thank you, Ichi. You can place it on my desk."

"Yes, Midori-sensei." She immediately did as told.

"Do I still have patients waiting outside?"

"None. Your next appointment is after lunch."

"Perfect." He smiled pleasantly at her. "I will be taking my lunch break."

Whether conversing with the nurses or taunting a target in a no-freeze arena, Ichi knew that the good doctor wore basically the same genial expression on his face. She wouldn't have felt offended at such fact if only her devoted attention to him did not reveal a grand exception to this rule— and that was his young penpal from America. The fondness he had solely for her was undeniable.

"Please excuse me." She bowed at him and his patients before heading to the door. She's been away for a year, but he hasn't lost his interest in her yet. With much more force than usual, she flipped the "The Doctor is In" sign on the door and reveled in its surprising loud thud.

What sorcery does she hold over him, really?

Dear Goemon-san…

Nearly all her letters started in a similar fashion, save for her very first mail. He could still vividly recall his pleasant surprise when Fujimon handed him the postcard of the NYC skyscape a month after Tachibana Hotaru had left the country.

Granted that it bore merely a generic stream of pleasantries, he was glad that she still chose to indulge an old fogey like him and wrote to him after all.

So as his way of expressing his gratitude, he wrote her back using the return address of her dormitory, along with a little care package.

Her reply came in sooner than expected, delivered to him by his trusty Fujimon. And this time, instead of a polite "Dear Midori-san", what he got was this:

Dear Goemon-san,

Thank you for your package. However, a female student has no use for a wall calendar of half-naked AV idols who can't hold guns properly to save their lives. Tachibana has promptly shredded it and tossed it in with this week's trash.

Hope you and Team Hoshihiro are well.

Signed,

Tachibana

He had spent that afternoon in a strangely good mood that even his patients had taken notice of it. That very evening, he wrote her back.

Dear Tachibana-kun,

I am relieved to hear that you still recall the proper gun grip. I also agree with your assessments and have forwarded your concern to the entertainment group handling these irresponsible campaign models. As a medical professional working in the pediatrics field, I agree that the children of Japan deserve better gun education than this.

Do you still get an opportunity to play survival games there? It pains me to imagine a bunch of unworthy creatures of mediocrity becoming on the receiving end of your glorious bloodlust.

My team is doing well. We have won a million yen for the nth time, so I have elected to fill my bed with bills that I can roll around on when I am feeling rather uninspired. It would have filled the hole in my heart if only I've been bestowed with one in the first place.

Hope you are adjusting well to your new life in the States.

Signed,

Your Fellow Advocate for the Proper Demonstration of Gun Holding Among Sexy Idols

P.S.

Why am I suddenly christened Goemon-san?

It didn't take a month to hear back from her again. Turning over the postcard showing the landmark 19th-century Brooklyn Bridge, he read her hastily scribbled note.

Dear Goemon-san,

Thank you for enlightening Tachibana as to why an invitation from an entertainment group to watch the next year's shoot of their "Guns x Babes 2018 Artbook Collection" came in the mail.

Tachibana must also confess to asking Matsuoka-san about your home address so Tachibana can provide that information instead for their "Guns x Boys 2017" calendar + artbook bundle offer.

Between spending time with Dad, a part-time job, and schooling, Tachibana is hardly able to find time to play survival games. Tachibana does watch war game clips online during the commute, and that helped tide things over for the time being. Nonetheless, thank you for asking.

Signed,

Tachibana

P.S. Tachibana talked to Fujimoto-san about it, and he agreed that it is best to minimize references to you as much as possible.

That gave him an idea as to why she did it, which was confirmed by Fujimon when he asked the next afternoon.

"She has to use an alias so the hospital staff won't gossip about a fully adult physician exchanging non-academic notes with a high school student overseas… or so Tachibana-san says."

A child twelve years his junior knew more than him regarding the conventional boundaries he was expected to set. But more importantly, he appreciated that she, with her naive blazing sense of justice, resorted to this silly act in kind consideration of his request that she write him, too.

That night, he wrote her back.

Dear Tachibana-kun,

I look forward to receiving that literature you so thoughtfully ordered for me. I can't wait to peruse through them and see how well they can challenge my current limits of taste and preferences. You alone can be so considerate to such extent of my circumstances— whether it be this or everything else.

Thank you. I am honored to accept the name of the gun you first bought (under my auspice, of course. I have excellent taste, don't you think?)

I have enclosed videotapes of my Matsune and his friends playing in the outdoor field. I can send you more if you want— I have an enviable network I can tap on anytime to do my bidding.

Signed,

A Future Fan of the Guns x Boys Franchise

A week after he received the artbook and wall calendar, he heard back from his benefactress.

At the back of a lit-up New York City nightscape postcard, she had written:

Dear Goemon-san,

Please don't send Tachibana any more photos or videos of everyone back home. It's difficult as it is. Tachibana will only miss everyone more.

Signed,

Tachibana

Despite himself, he felt anxious at the almost-curt length of the message. Excusing himself from the rest of his shift, he hurried to the postal office the same day to send a priority mail to her.

Dear Tachibana-kun,

When not on the battlefield, I endeavor to go against the little, excited voice in my head and refrain from causing anyone pain. If I caused you such with my previous mail, you have my utmost apology. I went too far with that one, I believe.

Write me back?

Signed,

Your Foolish Old Man Penpal from Japan

He quietly waited with bated breath for her response. It came in two weeks after, via a postcard showing a beautiful fountain and statue amidst the greenery. However, it was inside a bigger envelope, which had a slightly longer letter with it.

Dear Goemon-san,

This is the Angel of the Waters. It is situated in the Bethesda Terrace in the Central Park. A city guide said that an angel was said to have blessed the water and healed the sick, like it did for the cholera-stricken city many centuries ago.

Tachibana learned that Bethsheda's word origin can either mean a place of shame or a place of grace. It reminds Tachibana of you. You are both an angel of healing in the hospital and an angel of shaming in the battlefield. Tachibana accepts both faces because they both belong to a good friend. If you go over the line at either end, Tachibana will fight to bring you back.

What Tachibana is trying to say is… thank you, apology accepted, and Tachibana looks forward to receiving a new mail from Goemon-san.

Signed,

Tachibana

Only then could he let out a huge sigh of relief. For what, he did not endeavor to determine. All that mattered to him was that their flimsy connection— whatever it was— had not been severed.

He went on to pen his response, in what inevitably would be one of the many more letters they would exchange over the year and the months beyond.

Nagamasa Midori deftly opened the US-postmarked envelope with a paper knife. To his surprise, inch photo slipped down the table. It was a photo of Tachibana Hotaru together with a couple that he assumed to be her parents due to the unmistakable resemblance.

Ah, so this is how the young lady would look like had she been blessed with more calm and finesse.

Despite the bony, devastated tautness the advanced stage of his disease brought to him, the Tachibana patriarch's inner peace blossomed through. He knew first-hand the therapeutic impact having one's family close among even the illest of his patients.

The mother, on the other hand, was a rock of stability and principled righteousness. He had no question anymore as to where Tachibana-kun derived her convictions from.

And speaking of Tachibana…

She had grown out her hair, huh? Wild tufts of light golden tresses escaped from her slipshod attempt at a low ponytail, but he found them all endearingly true to the young lady's quirky personality. The months had also lent a touch of curves on all the right places, and he mused that the next time she competed in the TGC, she wouldn't get away with her disguise as easily as she could before.

After spending a few more moments appreciating the photo, he reluctantly let go of it to read the accompanying note.

Dear Goemon-san,

Tachibana is not a fan of taking pictures, but since Mama and Papa insisted on one, things ended up with you holding one of the copies Tachibana made.

Papa is having trouble sleeping lately and he has lost a lot of weight. But Tachibana knows Papa is fighting to stay here with us. As a physician, if there's any other advice you can share to make sure Tachibana cares for Papa well, please let Tachibana know.

Signed,

Tachibana

P.S. Tachibana will get you a proper postcard the next time she goes sightseeing in the city. Tachibana really misses Japan.

The doctor picked up the photo once more, gazing thoughtfully at it. Then carefully he picked it up and tucked it in his wallet, along with a few choice possessions he had that held great value to him.

He then exited the clinic and headed for the nearby tourist shop.

Dear Tachibana-kun,

Your father has done very well. But things will only become more difficult from this point on. Just stay by his side. No matter how scary or bleak things can be, don't waver your eyes away from his…

Tachibana Hotaru sank on the grass-carpeted ground that enveloped the cemetery, sobbing and unable to continue reading the postcard anymore. Her mother had left right after handing her a priority mail from Japan.

Even without looking, she knew her mother's face bore the stony impassiveness concealing the grief in the widow's heart. The woman responded to the death of her childhood love with a steely determination to be their daughter's rock no matter what it takes.

It took a few minutes before the insistent sound of her ringing phone registered in her ears. Taking a few shaky breaths, she struggled to calm herself as she answered the call. "T-Tachibana here."

"Tachibana-kun?"

A wave of surprise shook her to the core. Rubbing her eyes quickly, she called out, "M-Midori-san?"

She heard him pause uncertainly, and then, "My postcard didn't make it in time, I suppose?"

"T-The postcard is beautiful," she replied, a tad too quickly. Then with a defeated sigh, she continued, "P-Papa would have loved it."

"I'm sorry, Tachibana-kun."

The uncharacteristic concern in his voice choked her up. "T-Thank you. He passed away three nights ago."

"I see. It must have been hard."

She shut her eyes tight, involuntarily recalling her father, who was in pain all day and night but was blessed to go when he was peacefully asleep. "Tachibana… Tachibana didn't waver from him… "

His silence told her to go on. So she did.

"It was frightening every time Tachibana thinks that Papa is surrounded by all these medicines and doctors but no one can do a thing for him… it was frightening to feel so helpless for the first time in life," Heartbroken sobs threatened to snatch her voice away but she soldiered on. "T-Tachibana... Tachibana did her best to not look away…"

"Good girl." His voice was silky smooth and soothing. Peculiarly, there was a complete absence of the usual mockery in his tone."You did well, Tachibana-kun." No words felt like a better balm to her broken soul than hearing his words of quiet support and pride.

She wiped her tear-streaked cheeks with the back of her palm. "Tachibana and Midori-san had the same idea in the end, huh?"

"Loss is a universal human experience," he replied solemnly. "But it makes me happy that you think that way, Tachibana-kun."

"Thank you for calling, Midori-san." Only then did she recall to check her screen. "Is this a long-distance phone call?"

"I had Matsune share your phone number," he explained swiftly. "Looking at your father in the photo you sent, I felt I had to get in touch with you sooner."

"M-Matsuoka-san gave it to you?" She was aware of how her teammates and friends at Toy Gun-Gun can become extremely protective of her.

"Yes, but his four-eyed buddy made sure to threaten the very fabric of my existence before giving in. Needless to say, I was thrilled beyond words."

"No doubt you were, Midori-san." She clasped the phone close to her ears, suddenly recalling how the doctor had spoken to her that day at the airport. "You should go. It must be late at night where you are right now. Plus, calls like this can get expensive."

"Don't look down on a grown-up's finances, young lady."

She managed a small chuckle at his playfully cocky reprimand. "Well, maybe a one-time overcharge on the phone bill should be fine, even for an adult who spends a fortune on his toy guns."

"Ah."

Her forehead creased at the odd sound she heard from the other end of the line. "Midori-san?"

"I was thinking… if you're still seeking revenge against me on your friends' behalf, the best way is to attack my wallet."

"H-Huh?"

He spoke hurriedly— which was quite unusual for the calm, easy going king of the survival game scene in Japan. "What I meant is… you can keep accepting these expensive international long distance calls from me so I will be left with little budget to live on."

She scratched her cheek. "Midori-san, as you once told Tachibana in your clinic, people must separate their lives on the battlefield and in real life. Tachibana does not wish anything else for Midori-san anymore except for him to be well always."

To her surprise, he let out a sigh of resignation. "You're one tough customer, you know that, Tachibana-kun?"

"I-I don't understand…" She must have been utterly confused that she inadvertently slipped out of referencing herself from an outsider's perspective.

"Well, I don't mind. The prize is worth the chase." His tone sounded final as he spoke, as if he himself had realized something and had come to peace with that epiphany. "Get some rest, Tachibana-kun. Your father will want you and your mother to be well, at any cost."

"Thank you, Midori-san."

"I'll call you again."

For some reason she couldn't fathom, his earnest-sounding promise made her heart skip a beat. "Suit yourself. But if you do, you should hook up with a phone subscription so you can get discounts."

He let out a hearty laugh. "This is the first time that I've spoken with a woman who ended the calls with budget tips instead of erotic plans for the evening."

"Well, Tachibana cannot be compared to women like them because you see all of us differently."

"Indeed," he agreed smilingly. "My lady is incomparable to anyone else."

"It has been two years, huh, Midori-sensei?"

"Hmm?" Nagamasa Midori carefully dabbed the corners of his mouth with a lunch napkin and offered his attention to his trusted nurse and combat sniper, Akabane Ichi. Beside her, Takatora Fujimoto and Hosokawa Haruka paused from their respective meals and turned to her as well.

"Since that girl left."

He smiled pleasantly. "Ara, has it been that long?"

"You had to buy a bigger board to accommodate all those postcards," chimed in Haruka.

"You've racked up quite the bill monthly on Skype and online airsoft equipment deliveries," added Fujimon, bless his helpful little heart. He made a silent note to deal with his subordinate's talkativeness later on.

"Interesting," remarked his nurse. "You haven't participated in the TGC for the past two years."

He shrugged. "What can I say? After competing against Tachibana-kun, pretty much no other player can excite me enough to play."

Ichi sighed. "If she's your yardstick, then I'd say you'll have to hang up the laces of your training shoes. No one else will come close to beating her in your scale."

"I suppose." His phone rang, mercifully saving him from his team's pointed interrogation. One look at his phone screen and a genuinely fond smile broke on his face. "Excuse me." He hurriedly got up the table.

The trio watched their departing leader with looks of wonder and exasperation.

"It's her." Haruka bit on his muffin soundlessly, venting his ire on the pastry. "That disgusting expression on his face says it all."

"He's always had a soft spot for Tachibana-san," gushed Fujimoto, a happy nostalgic tone in his voice. "From the start, I've seen how hard he subconsciously tried to show her his gentle side. Usually, he wouldn't have been moved to do that for anyone. But she has always been different from the rest of us."

I know that. Ichi glumly chewed on her sandwich. The only person to draw out a tapestry of emotions that otherwise she wouldn't have known had existed in him— it couldn't be anyone but her. And despite herself, she couldn't deny her gratitude to Tachibana Hotaru for bringing out that beautiful side of the man she had loved one-sidedly for so long.

"Cheer up, Ichi!" The ash-haired doctor beamed at her sympathetically. "Yukimura-san says you have ample assets that men and women can easily fall in love with— AAARGH! GRAAAAAK! HARUKA-SAN HELPPPP!"

Haruka carefully slid away from the brutal slaughter happening beside him. He was too busy finding a suitable match for his brother in the dating app to bother himself with trivial matters such as the life and death situation of a co-worker.

"Tachibana is so sorry for disturbing you at work, Midori-san. Were you with a patient?" asked Tachibana Hotaru nervously as she leaned back against her bed's headboard. Behind her, the neon lights twinkled sharply against the velvety darkness of the midnight.

"Not at all. I was having a meal over a little inquisition." He leaned back against the endlessly white hallway outside the lunchroom.

"An inquisition, huh? About what?"

"About a topic I hold dear."

"Torture?"

He let out a loud entertained laughter. "Heavens, have I made quite an impression on you, huh?" Still chuckling, he asked, "So to whom do I owe this honor of being called on by my lady?" She found that he had long stopped calling her 'young lady', perhaps in recognition of the fact that time does move even for the likes of her.

"Tachibana… uhm, Tachibana has just been informed by the school that she's graduating with honors so… well, Tachibana wanted you to be among the first to know." She clasped the phone closer to her ear, wondering if she was acting too conceited, calling an accomplished physician like him in the middle of the day to brag about her school feats. She imagined the corners of his mouth twisting sadistically as he mouthed off a few choice shades on her. She only knew too well how capable he was of that.

But to her utter relief, he sounded nothing else but genuinely delighted. "Congratulations, sweetheart! That is excellent news!"

She silently castigated herself for getting beside herself upon hearing his word of endearment. "T-Thank you, Midori-san. After graduation, Tachibana plans to visit Japan for a month in order to prepare to go to a university there. Mama has reclaimed our old home from our relatives, so it should be okay."

"Ah, so you're coming home. Finally."

The words sounded so sweet coming from a man she least expected them to come from. "Y-Yes. We can finally test all that airsoft equipment you've been dumping at our house."

"As a matter of fact, they are yours, my lady."

Her hackles rose. "NO WAY! Tachibana refuses to accept them unless you let her win it by gun testing just like before!"

"Fine, fine." He sounded like a doting father indulging his favorite princess. At that thought, a feeling of disappointment surged through her. But just as quickly, she shook her head vehemently, as if clearing away these unreasonable feelings.

"B-Besides, d-does Midori-san…" She gulped inwardly, wondering if she had the guts to continue her question.

"Hmm?" He sounded lighthearted, and she could almost imagine him grinning innocently before him as his brain cooked up a dozen ways to skin her alive. "I've just been through an interrogation, so one more question from my lady will not bother me terribly."

Er, good? She bit her lower lip. "Does Midori-san… treat all his female friends this way?"

"Ahh," she heard him say, and she could practically see a light bulb popping over the man's head. "You sound interested, Tachibana-kun!" he drawled in a honeyed tone, making her blush from the roots of her hair to the tip of her toes.

"M-Midori-san!" Her face felt positively hot at that moment. "T-Tachibana just doesn't want you to be misunderstood by other girls. Y-You can be someone's friend without spending an inordinate amount of money!"

"So friends don't spend money on their friends?"

She clutched her phone tightly. "O-Of course!"

"So if I'm spending money on you, what does that make you then?"

She felt her heart pound. "Uhm… s-someone taking advantage of you?"

To her surprise, he let out a now familiar resigned sigh.

"I-Is Tachibana wrong?" she asked nervously.

"No, my lady. Like many others, you have won me over with your noble sense of justice. Or at least mellowed me to some point." He let out a low, husky chuckle. It sent excited shivers throughout her body, especially with the phone pressed so close to her ear. "I guess I'll just have to keep on trying until you finally understand."

"U-Understand what?"

"In any case, I will see you soon, my Tachibana-kun," he promised meaningfully.

Tachibana Hotaru did not expect him to keep his promise so soon.

Standing some distance away from the graduation venue was Midori Nagamasa himself, donning a dark coat over a pair of equally dark trousers and a maroon dress shirt. He was holding a bouquet of assorted carnations.

Beside her, she felt her mother stiffen. Tachibana Kane had not been introduced to this older, bespectacled man yet. Her motherly instinct told her though that this man's presence was not good news for her.

"Good evening, Tachibana-kun, Tachibana-san." The male bowed politely before them before offering the flowers to the younger woman. "Congratulations to the graduate."

Despite her bewilderment, she went ahead and took the flowers from his waiting hands. "T-Thank you, Midori-san. But why are you here?"

"I promised I'll meet you soon, did I not?" He flashed her a grin innocently.

"B-But…"

He bowed once more to the matriarch. "My name is Midori Nagamasa. Your daughter and I have played together in the TGC a few years ago."

The woman eyed him suspiciously— one of the rare times that a woman did not immediately become smitten with him. Truly, the Tachibana women are most formidable beings, he thought with a grin. According to Matsune and his buddies, Tachibana Kane's sadistic tendencies matched his point-for-point.

"So you live in Japan," the woman said slowly, gauging his worth all the while. "But you are here in New York because you are interested in my daughter, is that right?"

He pushed the bridge of his glasses back up his nose. "That is accurate, Tachibana-san."

The younger Tachibana exhaled sharply, not expecting his words.

Kane, on the other hand, scowled in utter displeasure. "And how old are you? Twenty-five? Twenty-seven?"

"I've turned thirty this month, Tachibana-san."

Both women's eyes widened at how deceitful a handsome man's appearance could be.

"My daughter has just turned eighteen," she hissed, recovering from shock. "Do you intend to take away her future because of your selfish desire—"

"M-Mama!" Hotaru stepped forward between the two. "M-Midori-san likes to kid around, d-don't you, Midori-san?" She grinned forcibly at him, begging for his cooperation.

He smiled brightly back at her. "I was Tachibana-kun's first kiss. It happened in a—"

"GRAH! She slapped her bouquet-holding hands over his mouth to stop him, but felt herself do a double take when she realized that after two long years, he was finally right in front of her— in the flesh. And she was touching his skin once more.

In response, the man clasped both her hands and planted a gentle kiss on her fingers. The momentary contact nearly set her whole body on fire.

M-Midori-san! To do this in front of my mother… From the corner of her eye, she stealthily glanced at her mother and braced herself for the latter's reaction.

Watching them warily. Kane stepped back with a shrug. "From the looks of it, 30-year-old-san, my daughter seems to be quite taken with you, too." She started to walk away, waving a hand. "I have reservations in the nearby restaurant at 8. I'll see you both there."

"Thank you, Mama!" It was the doctor who spoke with utmost cheerfulness.

"Midori-san!" She forcefully snatched back her hands away from his. "Seriously! There should be a limit to your pranks, you know!" she cried as she lowered her heels to the ground. Yet despite her high heels, the man was still impossibly taller than her. Even with the gap of two years, she had a long way to go before she could catch up with this nettlesome man. "Mama might misunderstand."

"So your mother is faster on the uptake than you?" he asked softly, caressing her cheek with his hand. It was not the first time he had done it, but it was the first time that this gesture had caused her heartbeat to race this abnormally fast.

"You… you can't expect Tachibana to believe that you… you…" She struggled to piece together her thoughts as his face slowly lowered towards hers.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he murmured, his breath fanning her face. She could see the tiniest teasing twitch on the corner of his mouth.

"... you like me?" she managed to ask before their lips could touch. She unwittingly shut her eyes tight, not daring to look at his expression should he announce that it was all a joke she gamely played along with.

Instead, she felt a momentary silky whisper in her ear.

The voice of the man who handpicked her H&K G3SAS High Cycle after becoming the first one to figure out who she was.

The man who mentored her unconventionally through a mix of harshness in the battlefield and gentleness in real life.

The man who praised her for giving her partner weapon a cool name.

The man who received her first kiss.

The man she drew strength from as she tried to come out to her friends one more time.

The man who Fujimon said collected all her postcards and lit up whenever they came in the mail.

His voice spoke to her softly. Sincerely.

"Like you? I am in love with you, Tachibana Hotaru."

Her eyelids fluttered open in surprise, but they closed just as quickly because he was done with speaking. His mouth finally, hungrily claimed hers in sweet longing and desire.

Matsuoka Masamune threw his phone down on the couch in disgust. "Ugh. The moment Midori-san first learns how to send a chat message, he sends THIS." He was referring to the photo of the doctor giddily embracing their blushing little Hotaru who was garbed in her graduation gown.

He turned to his bespectacled best friend peering down at his phone with an equally dark expression. "He sent you the same thing, didn't he, Yukki?"

"Yep." The erotic manga author inspected the chat window. "Us and all his four hundred contacts including the hospital staff, his patients, and everyone in the TGC."

Masamune crossed his arms over his chest. "You think he made a noob mistake? He had never learned to use apps till now."

"Nah. That guy's definitely rubbing it to our faces. That bastard."

THE END

#syaowrites #fanfic #tachibana hotaru #midori nagamasa #tachibana x midori

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rukakikuchi · 7 years

Text

White Rabbit (HaruSaku/JuriRuppi) - Mad Hatter sequel

Miyawaki Sakura, otherwise known as the Mad Hatter. A serial killer with Mad Hatter’s disease. And Matsui Jurina’s captor.

This girl was the White Rabbit’s target.

White Rabbit. A government special ops force that deals with neutralizing crime and stabilizing those who suffer from extreme mental illness. It was the White Rabbit who created the medicine to help those with Alice Syndrome.

Right now, Kodama Haruka, one of the youngest officers for White Rabbit, was assigned with one goal.

“Stop the Mad Hatter, Miyawaki Sakura, and free Matsui Jurina.”

“Would I have to kill them?” she asked her chief officer.

“If Mad Hatter threatens to kill you, then fight back if you must. But let no harm come to Jurina. We plan to send her to one of our top rehabilitation centers so we can treat her.”

Stop Sakura, at any cost, and free Jurina-san…

Haruka placed the tranquilizer bullets into her gun, strapping it onto her waist.

“I’m sorry… Sakura-chan.”

-------------------------

Jurina was an unaware victim, trapped in her own delusions. Her broken mind kept her hallucinating, not knowing that Miyawaki Sakura, her “Mad Hatter”, was orchestrating a plan to set off bombs all around Tokyo. To destroy the real world and reform it into their “Wonderland”.

She wasn’t confined in a cage or cuffed to the bed. The only thing Sakura needed was to keep Jurina in her delusions. Never let reality slip into her mind. She was “Alice”, and reality was threatening to kill her.

Sakura needed to destroy reality.

“Good kitty… good kitty…” she said with an empty smile, petting the cat that lay on the floor. She then picked up a rabbit doll, talking to it, “Rabbit, what’s the matter? You look wound up about something.”

Sakura looked over at the delusional girl, grinning.

“Good, Alice. Stay asleep in your dream land. You don’t need to wake up, to see what a nightmare reality is.”

She then heard a loud knock pounding on the door. Jurina’s eyes immediately shot up, staring at the door. Sakura’s eyes widened, stepping in front of Jurina.

“Here, Alice, have some tea,” she said, handing her a cup, “I’ll go see who’s at the door.”

Jurina just smiled, nodding at Sakura before sipping her tea. Before Sakura completely left the room, she glanced over at Jurina.

“Hatter… this tea tastes stra…” Her voice trailed off as she sat the cup down. Her eyes fluttering shut, she collapsed on the floor. The cat licked her face and curled up against her.

Sakura smirked, removing the hat on her head before walking to the door.

“Coming~” she called out innocently as she entered the living room. When she opened the door, she was surprised to see a face she hadn’t seen in a long time. “Haruppi!”

“Hey, Sakura.”

“It’s been too long! What are you doing here? I thought you were still in Hakata.”

“Summer break just started, so I thought I’d come visit you,” Haruka said, adjusting her glasses. “Speaking of, why are you in your uniform?”

“Oh, haha, I ended up having to do laundry. This is all I had to wear,” Sakura lied, her friend just giggling.

“You’re so weird, Sakura.”

She saw the girl about to approach her room, but stopped her.

“Hey, Haruka! Want me to make you something to eat? I recently bought some cake from the bakery; it’s really good!”

“Really?! I’d love some!”

“Alright. Just wait here, I’ll go get it.”

“Hai~”

As Sakura walked to the fridge, Haruka started looking around the apartment.

She must have Jurina locked in her room. That’s why she doesn’t want me going in there… Now where is her laptop?

“Here it is!”

She snapped back, turning to see the cake.

“Woah! It looks really good!” Haruka’s eyes sparkled. But behind her smile, she thought, I hope Sakura doesn’t suspect me… Otherwise, she might’ve drugged the cake.

“I’ve been pretty bored lately, so I’m glad you came over!”

“You sit down and turn on the TV. I’m gonna get us some drinks. You want tea?”

“Nah. Milk.”

“Alright.”

Once she saw Sakura leave again, she immediately whispered into her communicator watch, “Stay on guard, boys. I’m in. Once I give the signal, enter and subdue Mad Hatter.”

“Roger that, Kodama.”

She hid her watch as Sakura approached, hoping she wouldn’t notice the insignia of the White Rabbit on the face of it.

“Anything good on?”

“Hmm, let’s see…” Haruka flipped through the channels, her eyes quickly glancing at Sakura, and the food in front of them.

Okay, I need a plan. Sakura seems to trust me, so she probably hasn’t drugged the food. But I can’t let her find out I’m part of the White Rabbit. More importantly, I need to distract her long enough so I can get in her room and free Jurina. The question is, how?

“Ah! Look, Yokai Watch!” Sakura pointed out, humming in tune with the anime theme song. “This has gotten super popular at my school.”

“Mine too,” Haruka chuckled, looking around for a moment.

“Hm? You not hungry?”

“Ah, right!” Haruka grabbed her fork, picking up her plate to eat the cake. As she munched on the cake, the sweet taste of the cream hit her mouth, making her squeal. “Oishii!”

“Right?!”

The two chuckled as they enjoyed the anime while eating cake.

Nothing unusual with the cake. Good, she trusts me… I’m sorry for what I have to do, Sakura, but even though you’re my friend, you’re a criminal now. I need to do my job.

“Hey, Sakura, where’s the bathroom?”

“Oh, down the hall, to the right. It’s just beside my bedroom.”

“Thanks,” Haruka smiled, walking down the hall.

Sakura glanced back, watching Haruka go down the hall. She wanted to make sure she didn’t go in her room.

“Don’t go in… Don’t go in…”

She looked back, seeing Haruka open the bathroom door and locked it. She chuckled.

“Perfect. She’s none the wiser…” she chuckled. “Oh, Haruppi… I love you, but you truly are naive.”

BANG BANG BANG!

“Open up!” A loud voice called, making Sakura jump. “This is the White Rabbit!”

“Eh..?!” She got up from the couch, her body tensing. “How can this be? How did they know my location?! Did they track it from my laptop? No, that’s impossible!”

“Miyawaki Sakura, we know you’re in there! Come out with your hands up, and if you cooperate, no harm will come to you!”

She gritted her teeth, grabbing a baseball bat at the side of her couch. She gripped it tightly as she walked to the door, looking through the peephole. She could see men in white suits, the insignia of the organization they worked for on their chests.

“White Rabbit… Who sent you?!”

“Miyawaki-san, please! Unlock the door and let us in!”

Sakura growled, opening the door and immediately attacking the men in white. She swung her bat furiously, screaming as she violently fought them off.

“Freeze! Stop what you’re doing!” one of them said as they took their guns out.

Sakura just started laughing madly at them, continuing to swing her bat. She hit one of the men over the head, causing him to fall down, holding his bleeding head.

“Let us be mad… Hahahahaha! Let us be MAD! LET US BE MAD!!!” she laughed as she swung the bat blindly.

BANG!

She suddenly felt a sharp pain at her back. She turned and saw Haruka holding a gun, pointed at her.

“W-what…? Haru..ppi…?”

“Sorry, Sakura. I forgot to tell you,” she showed her watch. “I’m part of the White Rabbit, too.”

“No..way…” she whispered as she dropped her bat, falling to the ground.

Haruka sighed, putting her gun away.

“She’ll be knocked out for an hour or two. Jurina is in her bedroom, drugged. Transfer them both to their designated locations.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the men spoke. One picked up Sakura and carried her over their shoulder while two more went inside to retrieve Jurina.

Haruka knelt down to the man with the injured head, taking out a small spray bottle and spraying it on the wound to heal it. He hissed a bit before smiling at the young girl.

“Thanks, Kodama. You really are a prodigy.”

“Just doing my job.”

-----------------------

The next day…

“The bombs have been defused and Sakura is now locked up in our highest security prison. You did a job well done, Kodama. As for Matsui Jurina, we’ve already made plans to begin her recovery. She’s resisting us a bit, though. Perhaps you should regularly check on her.”

Haruka walked down the white hallways to the room where they were keeping Jurina. A padded room, where she could be monitored, and where she couldn’t get hurt.

“R-Rabbit..?! Cheshire..?!” she panicked as she tried to break down the walls of the room. “Where’s Hatter..?! Where are they..?!”

Haruka knocked on the door, making her turn around. She ran quickly to the door, holding onto the bars on the door window.

“Please, help me..!” she said while breathing quickly in her distress. “I don’t wanna be here..!”

“I know you don’t. But you need to.”

Jurina shook her head. “I want to be with Hatter..! Where is she..?!”

“The Mad Hatter… She did bad things. You won’t be able to see her anymore.”

The girl started to cry hysterically, leaning up against the door.

“No… no no no no no…” she whispered.

As she cried, Haruka reached out through the bars and touched her face. Wiping her tears with her thumb, she then handed her a rabbit doll. A doll that she owned and used to play with as a child.

“Rabbit..!” she hugged the doll tightly, petting its head.

“Jurina, I want you to listen to me,” she said. “It’s okay to go to Wonderland every once in a while. But if you always stay down in a rabbit hole, you’ll miss out on the world above you.”

“But… reality is scary. I want to always stay in a dream…”

“I understand that. The reason why people love dreams is because we only have them when we sleep. But they’re only precious if we wake up from them to go back to reality. If you’re always in a dream, even the vibrant colors you see will fade.”

She stroked her cheek gently, giving her a kind smile as she calmed down.

“It’s time to wake up, Jurina. You can’t stay in Wonderland forever.”

Jurina slowly nodded, still holding the doll close. Haruka then left, smiling in relief.

She’s going to be just fine. Once she recovers, she’ll be good as new. Of course, her Alice Syndrome won’t disappear completely. What she’ll need to do is learn how to balance her mind and not let the madness fully take over. A mix of sane and crazy, logic and imagination.

I’ll be the one to teach her that… After all, I have Alice Syndrome too.

#AKB Fanfic #Fanfiction #Jurina Matsui #Sakura Miyawaki #Haruka Kodama #One shot fic

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niji-iro-melody-archive · 8 years

Text

Chocolate Strawberries

It’s been how many years since Starish was united? Otoya was finding it hard to believe they’d been together for so long. It felt like only yesterday the redhead had entered Saotome Gakuen, but now here he was part of a quite successful group of idols. Otoya was proud of how far they came and how close they all still were after all the ups and downs.

The redhead appreciated everything the members had done for him through the years, whether they knew it or not. Otoya decided he should show just a small bit of his appreciation, through gifts. He thought it would be a little embarrassing to just suddenly pass out gifts to everyone without real cause. With a schedule packed Christmas he had no choice but to wait for the next holiday.

Valentine’s Day.

Otoya had thought about it for days. This was a holiday where girls usually gave their chocolates to guys they had crushes on or very close friends. He had never heard of guy friends giving chocolates to each other, but after experiencing tours all over the place, he saw many show their love and appreciation to each other no matter the gender or relation. He had even discovered the different ways other countries celebrated Valentine’s Day. So with these simple thoughts he decided ‘Why not?’

————————————————————————

“Agh!” Otoya released a scream as the bowl of chocolate hit the floor. Otoya grabbed at his chest as he had a 3rd mishap with his chocolate making. It felt like his heart broke a little. His first bowl had turned out awful tasting and the 2nd batch of chocolate had somehow tasted even worse. As he was mixing up the third, he had gotten a little too into the music coming from radio. When he spun around at one point, his hand slammed into the bowl and it fell to the floor.

Otoya sighed and his shoulders slumped as he moved to grab some paper towels to clean up the mess. As he turned he bumped directly into someone. He startled as he looked up to see the face of his band mate, Ren.

“Ah! Sorry, Ren.” Otoya apologized automatically.

The blonde casanova gently smiled as he looked over Otoya’s shoulder at the mess that was once a well organized kitchen.

“I’m the one that should be sorry. It looks like I’m interrupting…something.” He looked around further, surveying the damage.

The redhead’s cheeks tinted slightly as his own eyes moved to survey the room. He had been so preoccupied that he hadn’t notice the absolute mess he was making of the kitchen. There were ingredients just scattered everywhere, on the floor, all over the counters, and he even spotted a bit up on the upper shelves.

Otoya whipped around to look at Ren. “I’m sorry! I’ll clean it up as soon as I’m finished with everything!”

Blue eyes returned to red and Ren raised his hand to pat Otoya’s head. “I know you will.” Ren walked away to look closer at what the guitarist was making. It seemed the other had been making attempts at chocolate making.

“Were you making chocolate?“

"Well… trying to make chocolate,” Otoya replied as he went to cleaning up the chocolate spill.

It was Valentine’s Day tomorrow, Ren recalled. He probably wouldn’t have even remembered that if it weren’t for the show special they had him do for fans the other day. The saxophonist however was very curious as to who the younger was trying so hard to make chocolate for. Haruka was his immediate thought and possibly Tokiya was another. But there was an excessive amount of ingredients for just one or two people.

“Making chocolate for someone special, Ikki? I had no idea you had someone like that.” Ren teased the other.

A crimson blush that rivaled his hair, spread across Otoya’s face. He whipped around from dumping garbage into the grab to face the other male.

“I-it’s not like that!” Otoya shouted.

Ren raised an eyebrow at the redhead’s expression. Deciding to take the teasing a little further, Ren reached out with a hand, not paying much attention to Otoya’s next words.

“I was just… it was supposed to be a surprise. That’s why I was making them so–.” The word late froze in Otoya’s throat as a hand brushed his cheek. His eyes shot up to Ren’s. “Wha-?”

“Good. I’d be a little upset if Ikki was hiding a lover from me. We are close after all right?” Ren was just a mere from the other’s face as he spoke these words in a low, smooth tone. His hand trailed down the other’s cheek, thumb just nudging Otoya’s lips.

The guitarist felt like this moment couldn’t get much more embarrassing. The sensations his flushed skin got at the older male’s gentle caress were electrifying. The words coming from Ren’s lips weren’t helping either. But still out of some sense of obligation, Otoya felt the need to respond. “I-I don’t have someone like that…”

Ren lowered his hand as he saw his teasing was getting at him. He looked over at the ingredients spread across the counter in thought. “Well then, I don’t have much to do this evening. How can I be of assistance, Ikki?”

Otoya blinked a few moments, startled at the change in atmosphere. “Huh?” His brain tinkered a moment, trying to understand the words.

The blond grabbed a new bowl and set it on the counter as he responded. “I was asking what I can help with.”

Otoya help up his hands.“ Ah, Ren, no! I was going to make it myself. You don’t have to help me."

The saxophonist looked at Otoya, raising an eyebrow again. "So you haven’t been down here for hours trying to make chocolate?”

Once again pink dusted Otoya’s cheeks. “I-i… If you don’t mind I could use a little help.” Otoya conceded with a shy smile. He really preferred doing it all on his own. But it had been hours and he was getting nowhere. As long as he did most of the work, he could still say it was mostly from him.

Ren smiled as he went to pulling together various ingredients. He had made chocolate once or twice in school, but was far from professional chef. “So what recipe were you using?”

“Tomo-chan had one that I could use. But so far… things haven’t been turning out right.” Otoya released an embarrassed laugh as he scratched his head. He picked the mostly still readable paper up off the table and held it out to Ren.

Ren took a look at the paper, and his sapphire eyes would occasionally flicker up to glance at all the ingredients. “Ikki, where’s the powdered sugar?”

Otoya blinked then looked at the ingredients. “It’s right here.” Otoya picked up the plastic bag of white powder to show to Ren.

Taking the bag, Ren glanced it over. He opened it up and dipped a finger in, suspicious. He tasted it on his finger and immediately knew what the issue was. “Ikki… this isn’t powdered sugar.”

“What? Of course it is. I got it from the big bag over here.” The redhead went to the cupboard to look for the large orange bag he had pulled a portion of the “sugar” from. He glanced over the label and then glance at it again.

Ren watched as the other’s face flushed once again. He held back a teasing smile as the guitarist stood silent. “What is it?”

“I thought it said baking sugar… it’s baking soda.” His shoulders slumped as he realized how big of a stupid mistake he had made.

Ren coughed into his fist as held back a chuckle. He really couldn’t laugh with the kicked puppy expression the red head had on his face. “It’s a simple mistake."

"How can I be such an idiot?” Otoya put the bag back into the cupboard. He searched carefully now for the actual bag of sugar. This time taking his time and not glossing over the words like when he was rushing earlier.

“You’re not, like I said, simple mistake.”

Otoya returned the counter with the proper bag of sugar and set it on the counter. A large hand placed itself on his head and Otoya’s eyes glanced up at Ren. He saw the gentle smile the blond had on his face and returned it. Ren’s fingers lightly trailed through his locks and Otoya almost felt himself leaning into it before the comfortable pressure was removed. “Thanks.”

With all the proper ingredients now in hand, the two bandmates began making a chocolate dip for strawberries. Otoya felt more at ease with the help, especially from someone like. Ren had always been someone he somewhat looked up. The male oozed confidence and maturity, but was still gentle and considerate. The guitarist didn’t often get a chance to spend alone time with the other, so the experience was even better.

Ren’s guidance was very helpful, but could be somewhat overly hands-on. There were a few times he would directly guide Otoya’s hands with his own larger, warmer ones. The way his fingers would glide over Otoya’s skin sent tingles up his spine. Being so close to older male also made him overly aware of how handsome the other was. It quite bothered Otoya though, that he was the only one seemingly effected or even aware of these things.

After a bit of time passed, the chocolate dip was finally finished. Ren teased a bit of chocolate on to a spoon before holding it up to Otoya. “Want to taste before we dip the strawberries in?”

Otoya’s face flushed as looked at the spoon. Was Ren tying to…?

“Ren, that’s….um.. a bit- uh.”

“Just try it, Ikki. You should know I’m not big on chocolate."

"Eh?” Otoya’s brain short-circuited at the words. How could he have forgotten about that?

Ren took Otoya’s freeze as an opportunity. He pushed the spoon into the other’s open mouth. This seemed to have startled the other out of shock as his lips locked onto the spoon. Ren slid the spoon from between Otoya’s lips. As he did so, Otoya licked his lips to rid them of the excess chocolate. Blue eyes were dazzled at the site of the pink tongue covered in chocolate. Ren had a small thought that at least the sight of chocolate wasn’t so bad. “Was it good?”

Otoya’s previous thoughts were put on hold as he the taste of delicious chocolate invaded his mouth. “It’s really good! Thanks, Ren!” Otoya smiled brightly as his chocolate was finally a success.

Ren couldn’t help but smile in return. “You did a good bit of the work too. But you’re welcome. Shall we get the strawberries started now.”

“Mhm!” Otoya returned to the counter and plucked a strawberry from the pile. He dipped it into the chocolate and was going to lay it on the tray. A firm hand stopped him though.

“You should put it a little further from the edge so it wont fall off so easily."

Otoya’s face flushed as his hand was once again ‘assaulted’. He hadn’t realized before this night that Ren was this touchy. But what bothered him more than the touches was his body’s response to them. His made his skin flush and his spine tingle.

Red eyes shyly glanced up to look at Ren who was busy dipping more strawberries. The blond really was handsome, almost pretty even. Otoya knew this before but didn’t understand why he was suddenly so aware. He quickly looked away as blue eyes caught his crimson ones.

"Something wrong, Ikki?”

Otoya startled a little as pink dusted his cheeks. He tried to think up an excuse as to why he was staring but then he remembered. “You don’t like chocolate…”

Ren gave the other a confused look even though Otoya was no longer looking at him. “I’m sorry?”

Otoya quickly turned to face the other. “No! I didn’t mean that… I meant.” He looked towards the floor with a bit of shame. “These were supposed to be for everyone.”

Ren quickly realized that he must’ve been included in that everyone. He gently smiled at the other. “I’m guessing that included me?”

“Yes…I’m sorry, Ren. I completely forgot you didn’t like chocolate.”

Ren looked at Otoya’s sad expression, not being able to help feeling every slightly guilty for some reason. Otoya’s sad puppy looks always got to him. He glanced over at the chocolate covered strawberries and then back to Otoya.

As Otoya began a speech about how sorry he was and he’d make something else for Ren, he picked up a strawberry. Since they’re far from being settled. He held a hand underneath the dripping chocolate as he led the strawberry up to redhead’s mouth.

Otoya froze as he looked at the strawberry. “Eh?”

“Eat. You deserve it.”

“But this was for…”

“It’s fine, you can have mine.”

Otoya looked down at the strawberry. A bit hesitant at first, he opened his mouth to take in the strawberry. It was really delicious. He bit the strawberry in half, feeling the chocolate drizzle down his lips and chin. As he went to reach for a towel, his chin was gently grabbed. He looked up to see that Ren was barely an inch from him. Blue eyes were locked on to what he knew were his lips.

Otoya’s face flushed to match his hair as he felt a pair of lips on his. His body froze as his mind tried to register what was happening but failed. Shutting down his brain, he just decided to go with the moment. His eyes slid shut as he leaned into the kiss.

One of Ren’s hands slid up to rest on a cheek and the other rested on Otoya’s hip. Their heads tilted so their lips could better meet in a more intimate kiss. Ren took Otoya’s bottom lip into his mouth and suckled gently. The redhead’s lips slid apart and the blond’s tongue immediately delved inside. A dance of tongues began with the more experienced taking the lead.

Then hand on Otoya’s waist slid around to the back where it was met by the other, pulling Otoya closer so there was no longer space in between the two men. The guitarist’s hands slid up to grip the taller’s upper arms in hesitance. Ren guided them to a turn so Otoya was leaning back against the counter.

Otoya’s mind was in nothing but a haze as Ren’s hands kneaded his back and tongue worked magic in his mouth. Somewhere in his mind he knew this wasn’t proper but his body just didn’t care.

As the kiss became more heated, Ren suddenly pulled his lips away. Otoya’s eyes slid open to look at the other, sure disappointment was written all over his face but he didn’t care. “Ren…?”

“I’m still not a fan of chocolate.”

Otoya pouted at this response. “Then don’t stick chocolate in my mouth before you do that…”

“Next time I’ll remember that.”

Otoya’s eyes widened at this. “Next…time?”

Ren smirked. “Did you dislike it?”

Otoya became flustered. “I-I never said that… I just…”

“I know, adorable Ikki.” Ren leaned back in for a small peck. “Shall we continue?”

Otoya pouted as he looked away. “You’re the one that stopped.”

Ren smiled in response as he leaned in for yet another kiss.

#Renswaifu #omg please read this awesome RenOto drabble my more than amazing Senpai wrote for me #I can't handle it #it makes me so happy #my early Valentine's gift ♥#I love youuuuuuu ♥♥♥#submission #♥You make me go in OVER DRIVE.. Let me be your STRAWBERRY~? ✮#(( ♥ Otoya x Ren ♥ ))

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