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soveryanon · 5 years

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Reviewing time for MAG153! … Abridged version because I messed up my planning orz

- And we finally got an actual Corruption statement this season!! You made it into season 4, babe!!

I like how its Crawling Moment Of Awesomeness came little by little:

(MAG140) BASIRA: Er… Jon. What’s this. [DRY SOUND] ARCHIVIST: Mm? … Oh. That’s… [SILENCE] That, uh, that’s… my rib? BASIRA: … Right. [PUTS IT DOWN] ARCHIVIST: Yup… BASIRA: And… the jar of ashes. ARCHIVIST: Not– Not mine; I–I mean, it belongs to me, I–I guess, but it’s not… Er, stationery is in the other drawer?

(MAG145) ARTHUR: [SNORT] Slumlording over a nest. GERTRUDE: Oh. A nest of… what? ARTHUR: Found a mass of the Crawling Rot growing, a while back. Managed to get a hold of the property before it became too big. Gotta wait ‘til it blossoms before we can properly burn it.

(MAG152) HELEN: Hello, Jon. Been a while since you’ve been down here. ARCHIVIST: [ANGRY EXHALE] I didn’t come here to see you. HELEN: Oh, come now. I’m sure I’m more interesting company than the late Jane Prentiss. ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] … It’s all that left of her now. Apart from a… jar of ashes in my desk. Just a circle of rotten stone on an otherwise… unremarkable wall.

(MAG153) ARCHIVIST: This, well… The Corruption at work, if I had to guess, though with unsettling echoes of a… “Fleshliness”.

Jane, The Hive, Jane&The Hive, and now The Corruption for itself.

It’s… an obvious things given Smirke’s name for it (well, at least Gerry’s), but one of the things I find very interesting with Corruption is how it… does that. Rather than insects for themselves, it “corrupts” something, quite often perceived as “pure” and/or “absolute”: Jane craving for “something beyond [her]self” (MAG032), the malarial research turning horribly badly (MAG045), Private Amherst giving his bed to the injured soldiers who needed it more than him (MAG068), little Gordon helping the old Maggie (MAG084), Lester Chang’s not-that-healthy new relationship with his father-in-law and his subsequent obsession for cleanliness (MAG093), Benoît Maçon’s desperation for love (MAG102), Jon’s third victim from season 4 (MAG146: “A man rejected by all who knew him, searching ever-darker places for love. When he told me his story, he started… weeping maggots.”), The Divine Chain cult turning the notion of selfless love into a requirement (MAG153)… which tied in with everything turning Wrong when the dog “Agapē” joined it and that so-called ~pure~ love just opened the door for… spooks.

- But also:

(MAG153, Barbara Mullen-Jones) “I hit my “lowest point” when I turned 41. That’s when my life came crashing down; at least on the inside. From the outside, I’m sure everything looked… pretty much okay. I was getting gigs, I had a job, I had plenty of friends and a supportive family… But that was when I started to properly look at my life, and I… really didn’t like what was looking back…! I was a stand-up comedian, you see, and a really good one. That’s not boasting, that’s just the truth. And I’d always assumed that that was enough to eventually have real success. And for the first… ten years, it seemed like I was right. I worked my way up, performed for basically nothing basically every night, and got to be pretty successful.

… And I stayed that way for the next ten years. [SIGH]

Trouble is, do you know how much a “pretty successful comedian” makes? Let’s just say I had a full-time office job and was still barely making rent. But between working full-time and gigging full-time, I just kept putting off everything else in my life. Always so sure the big time was just around the corner. “This is the TV spot that gets me noticed.” “This is the sell-out fringe show that makes me mainstream.” “This is the deal that actually goes somewhere.”

I made it through turning 40 with my self-image intact, but for some reason, at 41 I just… cracked. I realised I had spent most of my life with nothing to show for it but a few awards no one cares about, a string of… awful comedian exes who broke up with me for being funnier than them… and a dreadful office job [SIGH] I was going to be working until I died, because I’d never bothered to build a stable career. I was never going to own a home; never going to have kids; never going to have the life I’d spent my entire youth sacrificing for.”

… Yes, I know I just quoted the whole beginning of the statement but: a lot of the RQ crew and their friends are comedians, sooo, uhhh. RQ folks, are you okay.

- Abridged version as promised, but things I liked: how you could understand why the statement-giver got wrapped up in the cult, but also how… she didn’t really belong there indeed, because she was mostly focusing on the form of it (the kind words, the contact, the work in itself, the wine production), like she was attracted to the gratuitous symbolisms around the meditation course, but not truly receptive to… the meat of things, what was behind the shape of it, what was at the core?

How she was, at the end, extremely petty about the cult’s failure (“There’s a part of me that’s glad. A sick little part that’s happy that whatever “love” was there, whatever I couldn’t be a part of, is gone from the world. And no one else gets it either.”).

How, oops, a fair amount of officers in the American police may have signed their local equivalent of a Section 31 form… or else, Gertrude or Adelard had been around, because explosives (“The compound was destroyed in an “accidental generator explosion”, and everything was gone.”)

How, once again, we got a statement with an exterior shape reminescent of different Fears (Jon pointing it out at the end, a “fleshliness”), like a few other recent ones? Though this one was a bit spelled out for us. (“And when you’re at that point, it’s astounding what can crawl into your heart – and start to fester there. […] Or if they… came about after things started to change. Started to go rotten.”)

How the statement was about leaving everything to settle in America… while later in the episode, Julia&Trevor revealed that they had come back from it to England.

How the simple representation of the world encouraged by the cult found a kind of echo with Julia&Trevor, simplistically separating people between monsters (preys) and the rest?

- … So, once again: why is Jon reading these specific statements, since he came back from Ny-Ålesund?

* MAG146, “Threshold”: Jon did mention that he had been pulled towards that one when he began to focus on Hill Top Road (“I spent so long looking for it, back when I found his father’s, and… no luck. But now, I decide to start looking properly into Hill Top Road, and all of a sudden… I’m drawn to rearrange a filing cabinet – and what do I find behind it?”)

* MAG147, “Weaver”: left by Annabelle to Fuck Him Up.

* MAG148, “Extended Surveillance”: Beholding, someone getting taken over by Beholding and obsessing over his friend.

* MAG150, “Cul-de-Sac”: Hey, The Power Of MLM Love Can Save Someone From The Lonely Zone If You Reach For Them xoxoxo.

* MAG152, “A Gravedigger’s Envy”: Someone falling deeper and deeper (ha) into their shiny new patron and Enjoying What They’re Doing.

* MAG153, “Love Bombing”: how someone got indoctrinated into a cult, and dodged a bullet by being dismissed from it because they didn’t believe/Feel It enough.

Has it been Annabelle still messing with him? Beholding? A reflection of Jon’s own preoccupations, that’s been leading him towards the few last ones?

- Aka: was that once again Annabelle cackling in Jon’s face because WOW, these first few lines sure felt like someone cackling in Jon’s face:

(MAG153, Barbara Mullen-Jones) “Everyone thinks they’re too smart to get involved in a cult. I’m sure you do. You think, that at the first mention of “aliens”, or the end of the world, or the lost book of the Bible, where Jesus buried his Holy Staff in the foothills of the Himalayas… you’d go running. Trouble is, that misunderstands how it works. I mean, when I was with The Divine Chain, some of the smartest people there were also the most committed. Intelligence doesn’t make you less prone to taking on bad ideas, it just makes you better at defending them…! To other people, and to yourself. Smart people can believe some truly ridiculous things, and then deploy all the reason and logic at their disposal to justify them. Because belief doesn’t begin in your mind – it begins in your feelings.”

… So once again, Jon’s reaction is a priceless “jON???” moment because:

(MAG153) ARCHIVIST: Statement ends. [SIGH] … I swear. I almost find the cult dedicated to the Dark Powers of Fear easier to understand than the more mundane sort. At least they have some consistency.

“What’s going on?” / Jon: *clicks “I’m in this statement and I don’t like it.”*

Oh My Gods, Jon… you read so many statements… they work/proceed exactly the same… getting you when you’re vulnerable… filling in what you’re craving and lacking, with the mix of “making you think you were shaped for them” and “shaping you for them” in turn…

(At least, he wasn’t in denial over the fact that the Dread Powers are “cults”. That would have been harder for him to do, anyway; and he didn’t deny it in the past when Georgie (MAG083, “Look me in the eyes and tell me that it’s not part of the cult or whatever the hell it was that left you homeless.”) and Jude (MAG089, “I don’t suppose I could talk to anyone else in your, um…” “It’s fine, you can call it a cult.”) both used the term. Still. Jon, there is no comfort/pride/excuse to get by trying to claim that the Fears Gods you’ve been involved with are more effective than your ~regular~ cults.)

- … How did Julia&Trevor manage to leave America? Last time we had heard of them, they were stuck:

(MAG109) ARCHIVIST: And… [SIGH] why America? JULIA: [FAINT GROAN] TREVOR: [CHUCKLE] Heard tell there were a wolfman…! JULIA: [LAUGH] TREVOR: Old Dave, he’s down in Plymouth, swore blind his brother had seen one on the Pacific Crest trail– JULIA: I told Trevor he was a liar, but here we are anyway. Have been for a couple of years…! TREVOR: Hey, now – no wolfman, sure, but there’ve been plenty out here that would needs killing! JULIA: [LONG-SUFFERING SIGH] True enough. Plus, it’s hard to leave. We’re not exactly here legally and trying to get a flight home would get us noticed by authorities we’d rather avoid. TREVOR: I keep telling her we could hop a boat! JULIA: And I tell him I’d rather stay hunting here than trap myself on a boat for two weeks!

(Julia has Bad History with water.)

- I wasn’t incredibly clear on the post-statement scenography – I assumed there had been a gunshot at first (but it wasn’t tagged in the content warnings, although it had consistently been in previous episodes), so was that loud bang… Jon’s door? Or the trapdoor? being violently banged open?

(There was the chair scraping on the floor when Julia was ordering Jon to stay sitting, so for that, I pictured her hands on his shoulder and at some point, them pinning his arms in his back and slamming his head on the table.)

- Loving how Julia’s perception of Jon doesn’t change:

(MAG107) JULIA: We can chat in the car! I’m sure you’ve got a ton of librarian stories, the miles will just fly by.

(MAG153) JULIA: Sure. Or: I slit your little bookworm’s throat…!

Jon Is Just A Nerd, uh.

- I really love how Jon “Can’t Shut His Mouth” Sims and Julia “Sims, Shut The Fuck Up” Montauk’s dialogue:

(MAG153) ARCHIVIST: [VENOMOUS] Gerry wasn’t “yours”. You had no right– [SLAMMING SOUND] TREVOR: Oh, you hear that, Julia? “Gerry”. JULIA: Sounds like it got pretty chummy…! Where is he? […] JULIA: Sure. Or: I slit your little bookworm’s throat…! DAISY: Do it. That give me a chance to finish off your dad. TREVOR: I’m not her father…! ARCHIVIST: Not by blood, maybe…! JULIA: Shut. it. ARCHIVIST: [GROAN OF PAIN]

… was basically an exchange of “YOU’RE JUST A USELESS BI” “OH YEAH? AND YOU HAVE DADDY ISSUES.”

Jon. Jon, please.

(Guuuh over Julia’s “You always do what evil books tell you to, do you?” because… she can’t know, but to say that to someone who had almost been taken by Mr Spider because following the book’s thread? Aouch.)

- And my heart BREAKS over the fact that Julia&Trevor are reproaching him… what was the Most Obviously Anti-Beholding thing Jon has ever done, back in season 3 – fulfilling the promise he had made to Gerry, and freeing/actually killing him, even if it caused himself pain in the process. But for Julia&Trevor, it’s precisely what made him an enemy just like any other monster.

(MAG153) ARCHIVST: He asked me to. JULIA: Oh, really? You always do what evil books tell you to, do you? TREVOR: Gotta say, I’m disappointed. Genuinely thought you were different. But you’re just another monster. Not even worth the chase…! JULIA: You want the honours, old man. TREVOR: Don’t mind if I do~!

Aouch. (I wonder what part of it was rightful anger at being deprived of their “monster manual”, and how much was actually a pretext to kill someone they had so far deemed as vaguely spooky, though? Interestingly, they didn’t mention that they felt like Jon had gotten worse or anything. According to their words, they only wanted to kill Jon because they felt that he had betrayed them and that siding with Gerry meant that he was “another monster”.)

- And bringing back the mention of Gerry and the book… also puts Eric Delano back to mind. Gerry only knew that his mother had used his father as training material with the book, but he didn’t find him inside. We know that Mary gave Gertrude a page, implying that it was Eric’s (“what’s left of him”), but Jon didn’t find it in Gertrude’s secret stash either:

(MAG111) GERARD: I never knew my dad. Not really. He worked in the Archives like you, but quit once I was born. I think he wanted to help raise me. But mum didn’t need the help, and after me she wasn’t able to have kids again, so she killed him in his sleep to practice her bookbinding. I guess she failed. I always thought he was in here, but when I eventually got hold of it, there wasn’t a page in there.

(MAG062) MARY: The End, of course. I could never truly serve it; I just don’t find death that interesting. I’ve always found a singular devotion far too restrictive. Just ask Eric… or what’s left of him. […] GERTRUDE: And do you have any proof of this? Your… “magic book”. MARY: Yeah. [PAPER RUSTLING] You can keep this page. I made sure it was in English. GERTRUDE: Go– Who… who is it? MARY: A surprise, dear. Just make sure you’re alone when you read it. [CHAIR SCRAPING] Goodbye, Gertrude. Wish me luck. [DOOR OPENING] [DOOR CLOSING] GERTRUDE: Well. I–I don’t… really know what to add to that. If what she says is true, I should think carefully before reading this page aloud. I should probably destroy it. [GRUNT] I do rather hate the smell of burning skin. Anyway… that’s a decision for another day. [CHAIR SCRAPING] [FLOORBOARD OPENING] [FLOORBOARD CLOSING] […] ARCHIVIST: […] But in spite of all that, I’m… strangely excited. Because what sticks out to me more than anything else in that tape… is the very distinctive floorboard, at the end. [CLOTHES RUFFLING] One that hasn’t changed in the eight years since this statement was given. There’s never been any reason to look closely at a random section of floor. This bit wasn’t even breached by any of the worms. [FLOORBOARD OPENS] Because it had Gertrude’s hidden compartment beneath it. Hmm. No… strange skin page. But there is a laptop. And a key. I wonder what it opens. End supplement. [CLICK.]

So… the question is still up – did Gertrude burn the page in the end? We know that she had burned a few things down in the tunnels, including at least one Leitner. Did she keep the page and is it stored somewhere? And if so… why would have she kept it? Eric was likely one of her assistants before Gerry was born, and Gertrude sounded… rather fond of him:

(MAG085) ARCHIVIST: Date of original statement unclear, though paper quality likely puts it at between twenty and thirty years ago. […] There are some… short pieces of correspondence in the file, addressed to Gertrude, from someone called, er, Eric Delano, confirming that while he typed out this statement, he has no memory of doing so, and requesting some sick leave to address… persistent migraines he has developed.

(MAG137) GERTRUDE: […] And I will admit I’ve grown… fond of the boy. I wonder, if I told him about Eric – whether he’d follow in his father’s footsteps. Still, that’s not like it kept Eric safe in The End.

A few things: Gerry did point out to Jon that he was surprised that Gertrude had apparently managed to get Mary to teach her how to book-bind (MAG111: “I just had to make sure I took the book while my mum was fading, and brought it to her, and then she would free me. I didn’t really believe her, I don’t think, but I did it anyway. When she returned the book to me a week later, her pages burned and mangled, I think I actually cried with relief. I never even considered that my mum might have taught Gertrude how to make pages for it before she was destroyed.”). Could Gertrude have learned it through Eric instead of Mary? Gerry also mentioned that, beyond the fact that Gertrude had chosen to imprison him within the book, he didn’t understand why she had left him behind (MAG111: “I think… I think I finally understand why she brought me back. I just don’t understand why she left me behind.”) – and, indeed, why…? Was it because she had been too freaked out by her arrest (although the book… stayed behind, unclaimed, and she could have got her hands back on it legally)? Was it because Gertrude wanted to leave behind a few hints about her actions, in case she got killed before achieving her goals? Was it because she wanted to retrieve it later, when things would be safer…? (That’d be extremely sentimental coming from her, but if she had kept Eric’s page… could it be that she had planned for Gerry and Eric to meet somehow at some point? If so: AOUCH, because Jon gave Gerry what he wanted, what he asked for… but if Jon were to discover that Eric’s page was still intact and that Gerry could have met his father at last? That… would hurt, uh.)

- Julia&Trevor being back in the game means that they… potentially share a connection with everyone in Team Archives, one way or another:

* Jon was Hunted by Julia, kidnapped/“bodyguarded” by her (MAG107), took Julia&Trevor’s statement about how they met (MAG109), stole Gerry’s page from them (MAG111) before burning it (MAG117). They were already on the fence about Jon’s status as a potential prey back then, but they had at least some interests in common with him (the world not ending, perceiving Max Mustermann as an enemy); right now, Julia&Trevor are clearly labelling Jon as a target and as an overall “monster” – plus, they have the grudge about the page and… there is the fact that Jon’s dreams contained them:

(MAG153) JULIA: [LAUGHS] You’ve got something of ours. TREVOR: “Someone”. JULIA: Took him right from under our noses…! TREVOR: In our own house. JULIA: I call that rude, don’t you? ARCHIVIST: [VENOMOUS] Gerry wasn’t “yours”. You had no right– [SLAMMING SOUND] TREVOR: Oh, you hear that, Julia? “Gerry”. […] Not gonna ask you again, son. ARCHIVIST: I burned the page. Released him. [SILENCE] TREVOR: Aren’t that right noble of you. JULIA: Proper humanitarian. TREVOR: So. [INHALE] Let me get this straight! We take ye in; protect ye from the thing that’s huntin’ ye… JULIA: Spared your life! Even though you’re no better. TREVOR: Help you; give you access to one of our most valuable resources; and you steal it from us, piss off back to England, and then… burn it?! [SHUFFLING] That’s just inconsiderate.

(MAG120) ELIAS: The dark building is newer, but he knows it well; knows the two lost souls who creep through it with an alert hunger on their faces. He recognizes that look from the other Hunter whose dreams he's watched for so long. They stalk the darkness itself, and hope to catch and kill it before it can do the same to them. They see him watching, but they cannot catch his scent.

… Even for Jon’s standards, that’s a lot. Usually, people wanted him dead because of the “Archivist” title and/or because he was marked by The Eye (Jane Prentiss, the Not!Them, Nikola, Michael-The-Distortion in MAG101…), not for… personal reasons, for things Jon himself had done. (… The only exception had been, interestingly… Daisy. Daisy who wanted to rip him apart because he had forced her to give him her statement, and because she kept seeing him in her dreams.)

(* Obviously Peter, and potentially Martin, because:

(MAG153) TREVOR: [SHAKING SIGH] … Come on, Julia. JULIA: What?! TREVOR: There’s no rush. [CHORTLING] We’ve got all the time in the world. Besides… this place is just full of monsters. She can’t guard ’em all.

There Are Other “Monsters” Here.

Would they sense the spooks from Martin, nowadays…?)

* Daisy used to be a Hunter like them, but has decided to stop serving. Trevor used to perceive The Hunt as an “addiction”, occasionally managed to make himself quit it, but when Jon met him in June 2017, Trevor had returned to The Hunt and already decided that he was getting a fair deal out of it, all things considered:

(MAG056, Trevor Herbert) “In the early 80s, I was deep in the grip of my twin addictions. As I mentioned, after a while, The Hunt became an addiction of its own. Of the two, I’ve always found heroin the easier one to quit. […] But The Hunt… the hunt is a purpose. It’s not just a way to get through the day, it’s a reason for there to be a day at all. […] Ah, it’s a shame I’m on the way out. I will miss The Hunt.”

(MAG109) ARCHIVIST: I–I mean, yes… But the situation has changed quite a bit. Last I heard, you were dying of lung cancer…! TREVOR: I was. ARCHIVIST: And now…? TREVOR: I’m not. [CHUCKLE] ARCHIVIST: And, and that doesn’t strike you as… odd. TREVOR: Not much I see these days isn’t “odd”, somehow or other. Not gonna turn my nose up at that one bit that worked out well for me. I hunt monsters; my lungs don’t kill me. [HUFF] Seems like a fair trade. No big job, today.

Daisy antagonised them both, Julia & Daisy are quite obviously ready and willing to jump at each other’s throat again… Which is a bad sign for Daisy, since they’re bringing back her murderous thoughts.

(On the one hand, their antagonism could push Daisy back into The Hunt’s waiting arms. On the other hand… it could go another way – though that would feel very hopeful: now that Trevor has been acknowledged as being a father figure for Julia… could it lead to Trevor pushing Julia out of The Hunt, because he would care more about her well-being than about hunting with her and he knows what a life of Hunt does to you?)

* BASIRA WAS WITH THE SECTION’D OFFICERS WHO RAIDED RAYNER’S LAST BODY-THEFT ATTEMPT, AND SHE WITNESSED HIS DEATH.

Especially since Basira&Jon have just come out of a mini-Dark arc… it feels especially relevant? Julia lost both her mother and her father to the People’s Church of the Divine Host, because of Rayner, and she had herself been scared of The Dark for long:

(MAG109) JULIA: There was another reason that I chose to work nights. If you read my statement, then I’m sure it will come as no surprise that for most of my life, I’ve had a pretty significant fear of the dark. I used to lie awake at night; listening, straining my ears for the noise of movement or that… dreadful growl coming out of the dark. It was one of my better counsellors that suggested I try working nights as a way to address it. And it worked! For the most part.

Amongst other things, we recently had confirmation of what had happened to Julia’s mom through Manuela’s statement:

(MAG143) MANUELA: You were not the first to try and stop us, you know. Not even within living memory. I was but newly joined when [Lynette] fled the Church, and Maxwell had her silenced. But I remember her brute of a husband. He fed the beast for us, you know, when first he believed [Lynette] might still be saved. Then, later, we faithful served as his fuel to banish it. But, not for long. That’s the thing about Darkness, isn’t it? You try your hardest to eradicate, flood your surroundings with light, but it’s always there at the edges – waiting for the glow to weaken, to return and cover you forever. Robert Montauk discovered that the hard way.

(And in return: Manuela mentioned that Darvish had “crossed a Montauk, which has… traditionally gone poorly for us.”, which was an allusion to Julia and was covered by the story she told Jon in MAG109.)

Why Robert Montauk did what he did and what happened to her mother could still be elements that Julia would be interested to know. (Or… not anymore, because she tried to leave that life behind her, but… still, I have trouble picturing that it would be a coincidence that she would be back right after Jon&Basira heard that story.)

* … I’m especially worried about Melanie, since her “connection” to Trevor&Julia is that… they burned down the Ivy Meadows care home, including what was left of Melanie’s father:

(MAG036, Nicole Baxter) “I turned and began to sprint back towards my car. I had to get away, to get out. Then, without warning, I felt something heavy hit me in the side and I lost my footing, falling to the ground. I looked up to see an old man pinning me to the ground, his long, white beard matted and filthy. I screamed and tried to escape, but his age seemed to have done nothing to diminish his strength, and he kept his grip easily. Then he spoke in a thick Mancunian accent and told me to keep my voice down. I noticed that his skin was unblemished pink, and behind him stood a young woman, tall and lean with close-cropped hair and a deep scar over her right eye. She carried a large canvas bag, and was shaking her head, telling the old man to leave me alone. After a few suspicious glances, he got up. I could swear I recognised him from somewhere, but when I asked the two of them who they were, they just shook their heads and told me to leave. I asked them what was going on, and the old man looked at his companion, as if asking permission, said something about knowledge being a good defence here. She shook her head and said that leaving quickly was a better one. I didn’t need to be told a third time. I got in my car, and I left them to their work. I didn’t turn around even when I saw the smoke start to rise behind me.”

[…] ARCHIVIST: The Ivy Meadows Care Home in Woodley was officially decommissioned in July 2011, a month before the first of these alleged calls came in. It burned down on the 4th of September that same year after a leaking gas main caught fire.

(MAG106) ELIAS: Your father was your last real anchor, wasn’t he? [STATIC RISES.] MELANIE: That’s none of your business. ELIAS: Perhaps. Five years is plenty of time to grieve. It’s a real tragedy, isn’t it – dementia? Oh, especially so early. But he always remembered you, didn’t he? “Little moth”. MELANIE: Shut. up. ELIAS: At least, you got him into a decent care home. Hard to afford on an irregular income like yours, but… your mother’s life-insurance helped plenty. And Ivy Meadows wasn’t as expensive as some of them! It’s a shame, about the fire. But I’d have thought it would offer something of a relief. MELANIE: Wh–what are you talking about…? ELIAS: Oh. Of course. They told you he died in his sleep, didn’t they? Smoke inhalation. A real tragedy, but at least he didn’t suffer. MELANIE: I… ELIAS: Do you want to know what really killed him? [STATIC RISES] MELANIE: [SHOCKED INHALE] [RAGGED BREATHING] [TAPE RECORDER HISSING] ELIAS: Awful, isn’t it? He really suffered. Not… really your fault, just bad luck. MELANIE: [RAGGED BREATHING TURNING INTO SOBS] ELIAS: That doesn’t comfort you, does it?

And I have no idea how Melanie will take that news. Able to remain stable and/or to decide that it may have been a mercy-kill? Refusing to feel any gratitude-adjacent feeling towards then, since they did it as Hunters (so, not to save innocents or to put the residents out of their suffering… but because there were monsters to kill)? Anger and resentment at what they did? (Would Melanie team up with them if it’s about tracking down Amherst…?)

- … So, Julia and Trevor just Got Inside Of The Institute Like That, and violence’d Jon, and would have gone for the kill if Daisy hadn’t stepped in:

(MAG153) TREVOR: Gotta say, I’m disappointed. Genuinely thought you were different. But you’re just another monster. Not even worth the chase…! JULIA: You want the honours, old man. TREVOR: Don’t mind if I do~! JULIA: [CHUCKLES] TREVOR: [CHUCKLES] DAISY: [FAR] Get away from him.

……………….. So, once again: pETER.

(S4 trailer) MARTIN: … Yeah. Yeah, I know. [PAUSE] I’m, er… I’m actually with him now. [SNIFFING] You were right. [PAUSE] … yeah. Yeah, I know. [LONG INHALE] I… [EXHALE] … Will they be safe? [PAUSE] … Okay… [INHALE] Okay! I’ll do it. Yeah. Sure thing.

(MAG126) PETER: Martin, this is what we agreed. After The Flesh attacked, you came to me. MARTIN: [SIGH] PETER: And I’ve held up my end of the bargain, despite your continued hesitation. Your friends have been largely untroubled by the many – many – enemies that they have made. MARTIN: What about the delivery guy? Breekon. And the coffin? PETER: Was that its name? To be honest with you, I thought it was dead. MARTIN: You thought wrong. PETER: True enough. And as soon as I learned it was here, I moved to intervene, but, well. It turns out I wasn’t really needed. And as far as the coffin goes, there’s not much I can do about a bull-headed Archivist– MARTIN: [EXPLOSIVE EXHALE] PETER: –who seems hellbent on self-destruction. My powers only extend so far. […] As I said, one of the last shreds of the Circus delivered a gateway into Too-Close-I-Cannot-Breathe. I went to help, but was too late. Then, your detective friend– MARTIN: No, she’s not a dete– PETER: –went on one of Elias’s wild-goose chases, then Jon wilfully hurled himself into the coffin. I did not intervene, because thankfully, I did not agree to protect your friends from their own idiocy.

(MAG142) MARTIN: … Anyway. So, what’s this field trip they’re on? DAISY: They, uh… they didn’t tell you? MARTIN: [DRY CHUCKLE] No, I… What. … [QUICKLY] Daisy, where have they gone? DAISY: You know that town in Norway? MARTIN: What? I… Wai– Wh–what?! You don’t mean Ny-Ålesund? DAISY: Yyyeah. They reckon there’s a ritual they need to, you know… MARTIN: Yeah, but Peter didn’t even men–…! [OPENS DRAWERS, SHUFFLES THROUGH THINGS] I don’t believe this! DAISY: Sorry. Shouldn’t have said anything. MARTIN: No, no, it’s… thank you, I just… [CLOSES DRAWER] For God’s sake, can he not stay safe for like, for like ten minutes?!

(MAG151) MARTIN: How honest has he been with me? SIMON: About which part? MARTIN: Protecting the others. SIMON: I think he tried. I suspect he may have slightly exaggerated his abilities when you first made the deal, but he certainly expended a reasonable amount of influence and resources to follow through. MARTIN: But… [EXPLOSIVE SIGH] But that was never the endgame, was it? He just wanted me on side long enough to rope me into his… his plans for The Extinction.

1°) I doubt that we’ll get to hear Martin learning about Julia&Trevor’s irruption in the Archives on tape, but PLEASE, I WANT TO HEAR HIS SHRIEKS WHEN HE DOES…

2°) We’re more likely to hear him explode in Peter’s face about it, though.

3°) That is, if Peter doesn’t flee into The Lonely forever to escape Martin’s wrath. Jokes aside: I don’t think that Martin will be surprised, at this point, because Simon has now confirmed to him that… Peter isn’t as strong/useful as a defender as he claimed. And this probably won’t be a game-changer for Martin… unless it pushes him to press Peter to unfold The Plan already, at last, because the longer they wait, the longer Jon and the others are kept vulnerable.

(… Though: they should still be defenceless, whether Martin&Peter’s plan(s) succeed or not? Peter promised their safety, however… was he referring to extending his own protection to them (because we now have confirmation that that deal was mostly a scam), or because Martin would become something else and/or trigger something that could keep them safe in the long run…?)

- … Meanwhile, Elias had suggested another “defender” to Basira:

(MAG127) BASIRA: … So why am I here? What do you want that’s so important you needed to tell me to my face? ELIAS: I believe you’ve recently lost Melanie. BASIRA: … We saved Melanie. ELIAS: As a person, yes, but as a defender… I would have thought you would want all the help you could get, or… have you forgotten what happened last time you lay your guard down? BASIRA: … We’ll work it out. ELIAS: Possibly. Then again: you are beset by enemies on all sides, Basira. And unless you expect Jon to record them into submission, it would seem you’re in rather dire need of another option. BASIRA: … And you just happen to have one. ELIAS: I might have an idea, yes. BASIRA: And what does it cost? ELIAS: Just some of your time, Basira. Just your time.

(MAG135) BASIRA: Like hell you don’t! Every lead, a dead end. Every contact, vanished or dead. I’ve spent three weeks bouncing all over the globe on your bad intel, because you said there was a way to bring Daisy back. ELIAS: There was. It required you to be absent. BASIRA: [EXPLOSIVE EXHALE] You wanted him to go in there. ELIAS: And you would never have allowed it, had you been present. BASIRA: Why? ELIAS: Would you simply believe I wanted you and Daisy reunited? BASIRA: No.

… and did he mean Jon (who would have developed his powers further), or Daisy, in the end? Directly post-coffin, Basira had been absolutely disappointed in Daisy’s state:

(MAG133) BASIRA: Yeah, I just… I didn’t realise she’d change into someone who… can’t look after herself. ARCHIVIST: [INHALE] BASIRA: Even without the muscle atrophy. ARCHIVIST: You were hoping for a defender. BASIRA: I was hoping for someone I can trust to share the load. Because right now, it’s all on me. ARCHIVIST: [SLOC EXHALES] It doesn’t have to be. BASIRA: Hm. ARCHIVIST: You’re not happy she is back. BASIRA: I didn’t say that, Jon. I would never abandon Daisy and, having her back is… [SIGH] But right now, she’s dead weight. And I need to be able to travel light.

But Daisy is proving that she’s still… kicking a bit, indeed. Or at least enough to chase away Julia&Trevor despite her, uh, current state:

(MAG153) DAISY: [FAR] Get away from him. JULIA: Oh… TREVOR: What’s this…? You got yourself a watchdog? JULIA: Well, more of a lapdog…! Scrawny, isn’t she? DAISY: [MENACINGLY] I said get back…! TREVOR: Malnourished, I’d say. How long since you last tasted blood? DAISY: [SHARP BREATHING] JULIA: You think you can take us both~? DAISY: … I’d enjoy it. Start with the old bastard – he’s slower, doesn’t guard his neck. And you worry about him too much, don’t you? I go for him, you get sloppy, predictable. […] TREVOR: [SHAKING SIGH] … Come on, Julia. JULIA: What?! TREVOR: There’s no rush. [CHORTLING] We’ve got all the time in the world. Besides… this place is just full of monsters. She can’t guard ’em all. JULIA: [PANTING] … Fine. DAISY: [GROWLS] [DOOR SLAMMED CLOSE]

I’m not absolutely sure whether the final growl was hers or Trevor’s and/or Julia’s, but, in any case, GODS, I love how Daisy has turned fiercely protective of her idiot Archivist.

- And at the same time, I’m heartbroken over Daisy but IN A GOOD WAY because I… was really fearing that she might have gone back to hunting behind the tapes’ back. But no. It’s… “just” that not Hunting is slowly killing her:

(MAG153) ARCHIVIST: Are you alright? DAISY: [BREATHLESS] Don’t touch me. ARCHIVIST: Christ, he was right, I, I didn’t… When did you get so thin? DAISY: I’m not, it’s fine. ARCHIVIST: … It’s The Hunt, isn’t it? Without it– DAISY: I’m fine. Just haven’t been hungry. I’m strong enough. ARCHIVIST: Clearly. DAISY: They’re not gone yet. We could still get them. [CLOTHES SHUFFLING] ARCHIVIST: Daisy, no. It’s like you say. “Don’t listen to the blood.” DAISY: [SLOWER BREATHES] … “Listen to the quiet”…

… And I wasn’t expecting Jon to spontaneously remind her not to Chase. To respect what Daisy had been fighting for, although he tried to argue with her overall decision shortly after. Gods, so with Melanie going on an Eye-strike, Jon not taking live-statements anymore, and Daisy being slowly killed by (the lack of) The Hunt… current Team Archives is slowly crumbling, and how long can it truly last…? Unless they find a way to temper the effects, or get better after a very bad period…?

- Also, no wonder Melanie and Daisy were getting closer, aaaah!! Same mindset of choosing death over feeding/getting fed by a Dread Power… with some nuances between the two: I’d say that Melanie’s stance feels more… ethical, after all (she didn’t want to contribute to The Fears’ system), while Daisy’s is really about doing things on her terms and not letting anything control her anymore? Although, as she pointed out, she is aware of the fact that she herself used to be involved in a (non-spooky, still very harmful) system and to be protected by it:

(MAG153) ARCHIVIST: Even so, if it’s having this much of an effect on you– DAISY: I’m not going back. I can’t let it in again. ARCHIVIST: But it– … What if it kills you? DAISY: [CHORTLE] Always said I was dedicated to justice…! ARCHIVIST: Daisy! It’s not… You can’t think like that. DAISY: Jon. Do you have any idea how much damage you can do if you’re a police officer who wants to hurt people? How much the system will protect you? [SHARP INHALE FROM JON] I managed to keep most of it from Basira, but…

(Well, despite Daisy’s attempts to hide it from her, Basira did know at the very least about Daisy illegally killing “monsters”. Basira wasn’t Perfectly Pure And Innocent when it came to condoning it, either.)

- I’m love Daisy, I love how frank she is about what she did, the fact that it was her… and also, that she decided she wouldn’t condone those things anymore ;;

(MAG142) MARTIN: It’s alright. Wasn’t you. [INHALE] Not really. DAISY: No, it was. I hate… a lot of what I did back then; doesn’t mean I’m not… responsible for it, doesn’t mean it… wasn’t me.

(MAG153) ARCHIVIST: That wasn’t you, that was The Hunt! DAISY: … [SIGH] We were the same. [SILENCE] ARCHIVIST: … You’d never known anything different. [SILENCE] DAISY: Because I never wanted to.

… And she’s also, implicitly, throwing what Jon Taught Her at his face:

(MAG121) OLIVER: I made a choice. We all made choices. Now, you have to– […] Make your choice, Jon.

(MAG132) DAISY: I hurt… a l–lot of people… and some who… who I shouldn’t have. Did you ever hear the, the story Elias told me? About what I did. How I am… He, he didn’t get a detail wrong. The Hunt… Hunger was in me all my life. Telling me who to chase, how to hurt them. I never needed to think… who I was outside of that. But down here, where I… I can’t hear the… blood anymore, I d–, I don’t… I don’t know who I am without, without the chase… I just know… that I… I don’t like who I was back outside. I don’t want to be her again. I want… to be… better… [PANTS] Y–you know what I thought wh–when I woke up here? I thought this was hell; I wa–, I was dead, and within hell. And I… eh, I–I knew I deserved it… I don’t want t–to be a s–sadistic predator again… I–I don’t want to… hobble around, like some pathetic, wounded prey either… I don’t know which would be worse. And I’m sc–scared, now, that I’ll never get the choice… ARCHIVIST: One thing I’ve learned, Daisy, is that we all get a choice. Even if it doesn’t feel like one.

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: My– [PAUSE] [INHALE] [SIGH] My memories of the coma are not clear. But I know I made a choice; I made a choice to become… something else. Because I was afraid to die. But ever since then, I… I don’t know if I made the right decision; I–I’m stronger now, tougher, I can… … If I do die, now, or get sealed away somewhere forever… I don’t know if that’s a bad thing.

(MAG153) DAISY: All that time trapped was good for one thing: thinking. And I did a lot of it. I’ve made my choice. ARCHIVIST: Okay…! So what do we do when they come back? DAISY: I don’t know.

(Jon… you threw out so many encouraging words but still didn’t follow through on them yourself, uh? Because meanwhile, he had already attacked two people, and was trying to convince himself that he was being manipulated/pushed into doing it without having a say in it…)

And Jon Trying To Argue Hurt A Lot, because it’s very obvious that he’s projecting / seeing himself in her? He was eight when he encountered Mr. Spider’s book. Daisy was eleven when she met something (Slaughter woman?) who turned Calvin Benchley against her; indeed, she’s “never known anything else”, and it shaped her as a person (she became “Daisy” because of the scar the experience left her with). So, if Daisy, who has taken a stance (to stop being a Hunter and hurt people), were to decide that in the end, it’s too painful, it’s not worth it… maybe Jon thinks that he wouldn’t feel too bad about doing the same?

But no, Daisy is still saying that it’s not worth going back to her patron and hurting people, stripping Jon of that excuse and possibility right away. I still have no idea whether Jon will take inspiration from Melanie&Daisy, but… whatever he chooses in the end, we’ve had prime demonstrations that it’d indeed be his own choice – not the Web manipulating him, not Beholding replacing by something else, not the “ineluctability” of becoming a careless or ruthless monster, just his own personal decision to hurt rather than be hurt.

So; I still have no idea, I still feel like only Martin is the only one who can make things go forwards at the moment, but also, lots of plot threads are accumulating to just… explode at the same time and make a carnage.

MAG153’s title is Magnificent in its simplicity and… evocations. So. Could be a Slaughter thing, with a mix of Team Archives (/Daisy) getting wasted, but obviously, it puts Mary Keay and The End to mind. Though I don’t know what else we could get about Mary? Jon hasn’t said anything about running out of the stash of Gertrude’s tapes from Elias’s office, so it… could be one of them again (last one was MAG145, Gertrude&Arthur) – Gertrude talking with Ended!Mary after having invoked her page? Something from Eric Delano (in written form, or a recording with Gertrude while he was alive or dead) about his ~lovely wife~?

#X_X #2 #3 #4 #5 #the magnus archives #mag153 #tma liveblog #tma season 4 #long post/

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fyenale · 7 years

Text

Closed Eyes

Hi @scarlet-izachan96 ! Happy belated White Day! I’m sorry it took so long for you to get your gift. I may not be your original Akashi (and I haven’t written in a long time orz) and this is not as fluffy as I wanted hdfjskjd but I hope you’ll enjoy this nonetheless :3

Summary: It’s not professional to do it while on duty, but Akashi’s lips couldn’t help to be drawn towards Kuroko’s exposed eyes.

It was a public park on the outskirts of the city.

The place was designed to have a big open area of grassy field, with a medium-sized pond in the middle and some small stones around the edges. Surrounding the open space were rows of trees as if shielding the area from outside world. While the open space has some lights placed on strategic parts, the area with many trees was illuminated only by crescent moon hanging in the sky. The park was silent save for a few rustles of leaves as a soft wind blows through the night.

One man was standing right outside the denser part of the small forest, his light blue hair swaying affected by the wind. His blindfolded eyes were kept to a point beyond the trees, as if he was able to see despite the black cloth circling his head. A strange looking gun was held firmly on his right hand, ready to move and aim when the time comes.

He didn’t need to wait for long.

A sudden burst of wind came from the forest and he poised the gun. A figure wielding two katanas came out from on top of the branches, eventually landing on the ground. At the same time, a giant, purplish humanoid creature appeared running towards the man.

“Kuroko!”

The man being called didn’t even form a reply as he pulled the trigger and a white orb was ejected towards the forest. It burst and made a wall of light right in front of the trees, ensuring the creature would not be able to run back to where it came out from. Quickly, he switched to a pair of guns on his thighs and started firing rapidly, making the creature howl in pain.

The katana-wielding man didn’t waste the moment of vulnerability as he sprang back to attack his target with swift, as if unending, movements. The black cloth blocking his vision didn’t deter him from giving precise slashes on the creature’s ankles and back of knees, forcing it to fall down with a roaring howl.

He stopped for a moment to sheathe one of his katana and concentrated his energy on his other one, making it glow a bright red. He jumped high before diving to stab the creature right on it’s heart, a circle appeared beneath and disintegrated it into nothingness.

The park was once again silent save for the slightly picking up wind, disarraying the red hair of the now slightly panting man. He took the katana back to its sheath and looked at his approaching comrade.

“Good job, Akashi-kun. I’m sorry I didn’t help much today.”

Kuroko was smiling gently while offering a bottle of water. Akashi took it with a grateful smile and drank heartily. He gave it back to Kuroko as he wiped his mouth with his gloved hands.

“No, without you we wouldn’t have weakened it and bring it to its end. Thank you, Kuroko.”

Akashi then opened his blindfold and stared at the human man sleeping on the ground where the creature once was, bowing his head slightly to offer his mourning. Kuroko also diverted his still-blindfolded gaze to the ground and took it off, finally seeing the colorful pattern on the man’s shirt. He approached and crouched down, putting his right hand on his own heart as he closed his eyes to pay respect.

“All that is left is to contact the headquarters to take care of this person.” Akashi commented from behind him. He turned to nod his agreement but noticed some leaves stuck on his partner’s black shirt.

“Akashi-kun, you have some leaves.” Kuroko automatically moved and began to remove the greens, not really noticing Akashi muttering “It’s just leaves.”

The activity wasn’t very long, but Akashi found himself staring at Kuroko’s dutiful eyes and couldn’t contain his urge to swipe the light blue bangs and placed his lips right on top of Kuroko’s eyebrows, making the hands on his shirt stop it’s movement. Akashi stole another kiss now slightly lower to Kuroko’s eyelid, pulled back and was met with a half-hearted glare.

“Why do you like to do that so much?”

Akashi just shrugged and was about to continue but Kuroko grabbed his hand and pulled back, this time his cheeks were also tinged pink. Akashi found it endearing.

“Akashi-kun, we are still on duty.”

His partner chuckled. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. I missed your eyes when you covered it with the blindfold.”

Kuroko’s lips puckered. “It’s only for mission purposes, and we see each other fine even with it.”

“But I can’t see you in color...and I would rather not, while in blindfold.”

The wind picked up again, this time strong enough to blow the remaining leaves on Akashi’s shirt. Kuroko went silent with Akashi’s last statement and closed his eyes, seeing his partner with his mind eyes and only finding white lines contouring his shape, with black filling the rest. His mind went back to the purplish creature and silently hoped that he would never see his partner in that state.

“I agree with you there.”

Akashi smiled and took the chance to put several kisses around Kuroko’s eyes, his partner this time staying still and secretly enjoying it.

A ring disturbed their moment as Kuroko had to blink several times at the sound. It actually originated from his own pod and he reached out to answer as he moved back from Akashi’s hold. “Kuroko here.”

“Kuroko-cchi! How’s the mission going?”

Kuroko frowned slightly at the fact that Kise contacted him out of nowhere, but he answered nonetheless. “It was just finished. We were about to report back to headquarters.”

“Great! You sound good as well so I guess Akashi-cchi is in good condition, right?”

Kuroko was about to answer but Akashi cut him. “Do you need us for something, Kise?”

A beat of silence passed from the pod before Kise’s guilty-sounding voice transmitted. “Heh, as expected of Akashi-cchi. You know something is up already.”

Akashi’s voice was steady “I’m listening.”

They heard a sigh as Kise continued. “Okay, so you’re now on Teikou Park, right? Could you guys come to Teikou School near there?”

Kuroko visualized a map on his head. “Your assigned mission place, it’s south of the park, am I correct?”

“Yeah, it was going well but.... me and Aomine-cchi got into a stupid fight and some of our targets escaped...”

Akashi sighed. “This has happened a lot of times already.”

Kise’s voice got louder. “We are trying to get better!...anyway, can you two please come help us find our targets? They are really good at hiding and it will take forever for me and that stupid (“Who are you calling stupid you asshole!!” Aomine’s voice was heard) ahem, I mean Aomine-cchi to find them. And we can’t say this to the headquarters because...um..”

“This blunder originates from unprofessionalism.” Kuroko helpfully added.

“Yeah, that.” Kise agreed dejectedly. “Can you two pleeeeease help?”

Akashi sighed again as he shook his head. “Very well. We will go there.”

“You guys are the best! We’ll be waiting!”

Kuroko smiled as the communication was terminated. “They never change.”

“They should, somewhat.” Akashi muttered as he pulled his own pod and contacted the headquarters to report their own mission first before going to backup Kise and Aomine. Kuroko used that time to drink some water himself and check on his equipment. As he was closing his eyes and was about to cover his eyes again, Akashi’s hand suddenly took the cloth from him.

He was about to protest before he felt a soft touch on his right eye once again, followed by the cloth circling his head and a sensation that it was being tighten. He then felt hands cupping his face and lips capturing his own for a brief moment.

Akashi’s voice floated a few moments later. “All ready now.”

Kuroko was stunned for a while before he regained his composure. “We are being unprofessional right now too, Akashi-kun.”

Akashi chuckled as he covered his own eyes. “I guess, though at least we finished our duty first.” He then put his hands on his hips. “Let’s go now, shall we?”

Kuroko followed Akashi to their new destination, staring at the white and black back of his partner. He thought of the soft kisses around his eyes from a while ago, and found that he didn’t mind them at all.

Actually, he never did, but he would not say that out loud.

Not that Akashi needed the confirmation to do it, anyway.

Notes: I am very inspired by nier automata even though I haven’t played the game lolol But I’m not sure if you like sci-fi and want them as androids so I just borrowed some ideas and try to incorporate your interests and headcanons as much as I can >.<

....and I ended up making a whole new AU setting /laughs nervously

A bit of explanation of this AU in case it wasn’t clear ↓

So basically they are like a demon slayer, except these demons invade human body (killing them in the process) and cannot be seen with naked eye. You will have to use your “mind eyes” to see them, in which they will appear in their true form and has colors (they will appear like normal human if you use your normal vision). To see with “mind eyes” you have to ditch your normal vision and close your eyes, this actually also requires training and is only available for gifted people.

The reason they use blindfolds instead of just closing their eyes is because it’s sexy to prevent them from accidentally opening their eyes and see its human form and got distracted in a battle. The demon may also give visual tricks when you see them in normal vision? is something that I thought of too.

The weapons they use are also special ones to hurt the demons. By using their own power (Akashi making his sword glow) they can purify them too, but the humans are already dead so they can’t save demon-infected people with this power.

#akakurowhiteday2017 #scarlet-izachan96 #akakuro #kuroko no basket #fye tries to write #I'm sorry you had to wait so long for a return gift!!#I hope you'll like this #orz

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its-love-u-asshole · 7 years

Note

Hi there. I love your writing style of Saruhiko and Misaki. You are definitely my favourite author by far. I was wondering if I could request a Sarumi fic but I am disgusting and want that fluffy, sappy cafe worker and regular customer AU where they eventually end up together with fluffy smut at the end. Kill me this is so lame. Thank you for your time. Sorry for my awkward sense of self, I never have requested anything before.

Ao3 Version

Rating: T

Notes: Hello! Thanks so much for this request, it was super cute and enjoyable to write and ahhh I’m so flattered that you like my writing so much orz I’m honored! I hope you can forgive me…it was really hard to find a place for a nsfw scene in this, so I left it out, but hopefully I can write smut for it in the future! Thanks so much once again!

‘Hey, what do you look like?’

His handwriting was bad today, worse than usual,the black ink smudging in some places from how close his palm was to the felttip of the pen. Yata swallowed thickly as he looked down at the sticky note,watching as his grip threatened to crumble the paper too much, making the wordsillegible.

Fuck, thatwould be his third attempt. He shoved the third sticky note into his pocket,convincing himself that he had the whole rest of his shift to get it right.Growling under his breath, Yata closed his eyes, letting the sounds ofclattering silverware and the chattering of customers fill his ears.

It was nearing the end of the late lunch hours,and service was winding down. Yata had barely clocked in thirty minutes before,catching the end of the rush, but it was by no means over. Soon, workers hungryfor dinner would pour in as well, and the cafe would be bustling once more,loud and smelling of fresh spices and mouthwatering dishes.

It wasn’t as bad as one would think, being the busboyfor a popular cafe. Not to mention, his boss was nice, and the customers wouldoften tip him for being so lively and efficient. Yata didn’t exactlyunderstand, all he was doing was clearing tables and doing the dishes, but hewas thankful. In the beginning it had seemed like an annoying, but easy job,not to mention all his friends worked in the same shopping center, and he couldmeet them after work. It didn’t pay a whole lot, but he worked another parttime job in the morning, and the tips from the cafe along with both checksallowed him to live a comfortable bachelor’s life, so he couldn’t complain.Homra had the best food too, and Kusanagi let him eat however much he wanted!

Still, his job wasn’t his current dilemma…morethe schedule…

The bundle of unused sticky notes in his pocketsuddenly felt a lot heavier.

Frustrated, he circled around the cafe again,picking up plates and wishing the patrons well as they collected their coatsand left. On auto pilot, he picked up the heavy plates of half eaten burgersand dessert pastries, silently scolding people for wasting so much food. Atleast anything in the kitchen which didn’t get eaten, including meals whichwere sent back, got donated to the hungry by Kusanagi.

Throwing the last of the plates into his gray bin,he wrung out one of the clean cloths he kept on hand, and began wiping down thetables. He had a good forty minutes before the dinner rush, maybe Kusanagiwould let him have a piece of cake…

He needed the distraction.

“Something wrong Yata-kun?” A feminine,yet strong voice broke him out of his thoughts, and despite how long he’dworked there, he felt his face flush stupidly as he tried to formulate aresponse.

Awashima waited for him patiently, the onlyindication of confusion being her quirked eyebrow as he knocked into the binbehind him. “A-Awashima-san! I’m fine! J-just, worried about getting allthis done before the rush…ha..ha…” Yata could’ve slapped himself.

“Oh? But you always get everything done in atimely manner. Are you sure?” The blonde inched forward a little, theconcern flashing only momentarily in the clear blue of her eyes.

Damn…

Yata was never a great liar, but lying to girlswas even harder damnit!

Awashima, Kusanagi’s wife, was always soperceptive too, making sure all the employees were in their best of sorts. Itwas another nice thing about Homra in a way, if a worker wasn’t feeling well orwasn’t comfortable for some reason, Kusanagi and his wife were alwaysunderstanding. It made them feel more like friends than superiors, and Yatarespected them with everything he had. Even if Awashima scared him at first…

Not only was she beautiful, but she could bedownright harsh to rude customers or part timers who weren’t giving it theirall. She was nice deep down though, and Yata could hold a decent conversationwith her now, a few stutters aside.

He groaned, shoulders relaxing in defeat as hebegan to scrub at a small stain. “Nothing…I just have…”

Ugh, fuck, this is embarrassing!

He knew Awashima probably already knew what it was, fuck, everyone in hisworkplace knew, even hisother friends knew, and they worked at completely different stores!

Why the blonde was forcing him to say it himselfwas humiliating, but maybe in a way it was good to vent.

“…It’s table four again…” That wasall he managed to say, and to any outsider it probably wasn’t odd, maybe tablefour was where big parties sat, or was harder to maneuver around. But Awashimaunderstood the real issue, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips.

“Ah…did something new happen? He was hereagain today, he looked more tired than usual,” she said with a laugh,following Yata to the next table as he wiped it down. Yata flushed despitehimself, tired huh?Saruhiko had told him he wasn’t one to get much sleep, but Yata wondered whathe actually looked like when he was exhausted. Did he have bags under his eyes?Was his clothing sloppy? What kind of clothes did Saruhiko even wear?

“N-nothing really, just…hey, can’t you guystell me what he looks like alreadu?! C'mon!” Yata bit his lip at his ownoutburst, but damn, it was frustrating! Plus…sometimes when things were onhis mind, he just blurted them out.

“I’m afraid not Yata-chan,” Kusanagi’ssmooth tone drifted into the space, and he casually wrapped an arm aroundAwashima’s shoulders, handing her a clipboard with what Yata guessed hadsomething to do with produce orders. “That would be cheating.”Kusanagi’s smirk told Yata he was having way more fun with his love life thanhe should be.

“But–!”

“Nope.”

Yata wanted to face plant against the table, butit probably wouldn’t have been a good idea, with all the chocolate stains andwhat not. Man, he could really go for some cake…

“Ah, I see you haven’t figured out the dailysticky note yet.” Kusanagi chuckled, watching as Awashima made her wayback to the kitchen. The cafe was mostly empty now, aside from an old couple onthe far side of the room, and the hostess at the front. Douhan hardly ever leftthe post, but Yata just knew she was listening.

Everyone here is so damn nosy!

Ever since that first day…

–

A few months back, Yata had been pissed cominginto work. Someone at his other job had made his life hell, leaving him allkinds of extra work in the construction yard. Yata’s muscles were sore, he wastired, and the last thing he wanted was to bus tables. The rush that night hadbeen especially bad, but it wasn’t what had set him off.

No, in fact, the problem had happened before thedinner hour had begun at all. Table four. Yata rarely cleaned that side of the cafe,but it was his first day switching after a new busboy had been hired to helpout, so now Yata was responsible for the right side of the cafe. No big deal,it was still the same job.

Or at least, he'd thought so. The customer at table four hadalready been gone by the time Yata had clocked in, but his mess was stillvisible, as if mocking Yata, challenging him to pick it up.

What kind of asshole….

The table was littered with notes, the rings ofthe half consumed coffee mug making the papers soggy and plastered to thetable. The papers were crumpled, obviously scratch paper, like someone had comein, done a furious amount of homework, and then had dashed out without a carein the world. The various equations and definitions on the sheets were foreignto Yata as well, maybe math…physics? Whatever, point was, it was messy andtotally inconsiderate!

Yata had grumbled about it the whole time he hadpicked it up, swearing at the mushy paper and ink stains which wouldn’t comeoff his hands. He knew it was his job to clean up, but who was such a dick thatthey left all this for the staff to deal with?!

He was at least raised way better than that.

After he’d successfully cleared it, he wasimmensely relieved, cursing whoever had occupied the table before, and hopingthey never came back.

Yata had never been lucky.

The whole week, the whole fucking week, whenever Yata clocked in,table four was waiting for him, messier than the previous day. Yata wasbeginning to think it was a prank, or some unknown enemy he had picked up onaccident, because that’s how deliberate it looked.

But no…

“Oh, table four?” Douhan looked up fromher list of reservations, preparing for the dinner rush. “It’s the sameguy every day, he comes in all huffy with his backpack, and won’t leave for twohours at least. He doesn’t talk much, and only orders coffee.”

“He’s not the nicest, but he makes my jobeasy,” Chitose voiced, bringing the serving trays out from the back.Chitose was one of his friends, the one who’d gotten him the job in the firstplace, a waiter who seemed to know a lot of questionable things about theregulars. “He doesn’t talk a lot, hell, I don’t even know much about him.Only his order.”

Now, that was weird. Chitose could make anyonetalk with enough prodding, so this guy must really be a piece of work.

Heh, that fits.

The next day, Yata glared at the table, eyetwitching as he noticed more papers, and some leftover pens as well. How uncaring was this guy?

On top of it all, and perhaps what pissed Yata offthe most, was the plate. For once, the guy must’ve ordered food, but from whatYata saw, he might as well have not. The redhead recognized the dish. It was asignature steak, complete with a side of vegetables. Fresh vegetables. Homra put a lot ofeffort into finding good suppliers so all their food was delicious, and this motherfucker…

Most of the steak was eaten, but all thevegetables had been crammed to one side of the plate, like they werecontaminated, some of them spilling off onto the table.

Yata blinked, staring into the void where thetable happened to be, the anger which had built up over the week surfacinguntil–

His impulses took over, and he stomped over toDouhan’s station, not answering her questioning look as he grabbed the stack ofsticky notes she kept there, and trotted back to the table, picking up one ofthe shitty pens the asshole had left behind.

Looking back, it wasn’t his shining moment. Yatahad no right to scold a customer, and he could’ve gotten in a lot of troublefor it, but fuck, he wasso pissed.

Angrily, he scribbled his frustrations down, notreally thinking.

'Excuse me, but some people have to clean upafter you! Who the hell leaves all their homework notes behind??? And how doyou even walk, all you ever order is fucking coffee and now you order steak anddon’t eat the vegetables! Are you dying?’

He grabbed the napkin holder, folding the note andstuffing it into the back of it, leaving only one edge sticking out.

For a brief moment, Yata’s anger cleared, and hethought maybe he shouldn’t be doing this. After all, if anyone looked hardenough, they could find the note, and he’d get in trouble, or the guy he wastargeting would report him too. Or maybe, no one would find it, and it’d sit inthe holder forever.

He exhaled suddenly, the tension flooding out ofhim. Right, this is stupid…

He should know better, he wasn’t some kid anymorewho could fight the world whenever he wanted. He had bills to pay and rules tofollow, and as much as he hated it, he’d try his best to keep a level head.Yata reached forward slowly, about to tug on the edge of the bright yellowpaper sticking out and discard the note for good. It wasn’t worth it in theend, he reasoned. Though, it would’ve been nice to give the table four guy agood scolding for all the trouble he’d caused.

Whatever, it’s not that big of a deal.

At that exact moment, the door whooshed open, andYata realized in terror how much time he’d wasted. Forgetting about the note,he rushed to pick up the last of the main room, and waited for the dinner rushto begin.

–

The next day was the same as usual, except whenYata walked up to the dreaded table four, there was a note.

A boring one, different from the bright yellowbear and animal shaped ones which Douhan kept. It was square, and a light blue,so simple, yet it froze Yata in his tracks.

Shit.

So that's what he’d forgotten. Yata feltpanic and relief all at once. Panic, because man, he seriously prayed no oneelse had walked by before he’d arrived and seen the note first. Relief, becauseboth bosses had greeted him happily on his way in, meaning that they had noknowledge of the note, and that table four guy hadn’t complained.

At least he’s trying to resolve this betweenthe two of us.

Yata almost felt guilty. He’d been in a bad mood,and had raged at an unsuspecting customer. A sloppy, obviously inconsideratecustomer, but still a customer.

He shook it off, approaching the note, so thewording became clearer, and hoped he could move on after reading the guy’sapology.

Only it wasn’t an apology.

There, scrawled in neat, almost femininehandwriting, were two phrases, ones Yata would never forget, and all sense ofguilt or amity flew right out the fucking store window.

'It isn’t my fault you can’t do yourpathetically easy job. Fuck you.’

This…

“This asshole!” Yata’s grip on the notewas fierce, and he threw it roughly into the garbage, seething from deep withinhis soul.

No. No way am I gonna take that!

For the second day in a row, he stormed over toDouhan, who didn’t even glance up from her magazine as he took a bundle ofsticky notes. These ones were duck shaped, not the most intimidating, but theywould have to do. He scribbled as fast as he could, aware that he should reallystart getting shit done, his handwriting twelve times sloppier than the guy’s.Somehow, it pissed him off even more.

'Fuck you! At least I was raised with mannersand shit! Fucking come say that to my face you dick!’

Yata had jammed the note into the holder, itchingfor a response.

–

That had been how it all started, and now he washere. Yata groaned, scrubbing a little too hard at a stain, threatening to peelsome of the paint off the table’s surface. He glanced up at Kusanagi with anunamused expression, thinking back to his comment.

“I figured out the sticky note for todayokay! It’s just embarrassing!” Yata glared at his boss, watching as theother was obviously enjoying his pain.

“Hey, you brought this on yourself,”Chitose’s voice lingered from the kitchen, and soon after, he stepped out, nolonger in his uniform. Chitose was off work, soon to be replaced by anotherserver, and Yata envied him as he began to waltz towards the exit. “Youwrote him first. You really suck at flirting, in fact, the both of youdo.”

Yeah. He couldn’t argue with that. It wasn’t likeYata had been trying to flirt in the first place though damnit! It hadjust…happened.

Fushimi Saruhiko. That was table four guy. Yatalearned the name after about a week of their feud. After their first exchange, Saruhikohad made it his mission to mess up his table as much as possible, seeminglyfueled by his spite for Yata. The redhead had cursed him all along the way, andtheir correspondence increased rapidly over the next few weeks purely out ofshared pettiness.

It started off as expected: insults. Saruhiko wassurprisingly witty and clever with his comebacks, which only served to increaseYata’s anger with every work day.

'As if I’d want to fight a cafe worker. Maybe Ican’t, for all you know I could be some old man who you’re harassing.’

'Cut the crap! Your homework has universityclass headers! You can’t be that old!’

'Ah, snooping are we? And commenting on my dietearlier, you must genuinely care.’

'You better hope I never see your stupidface on the street!’

'Even if you did, it’s not like you’d know.’

That conversation haunted Yata more now,considering Saruhiko had been right. They’d been talking through sticky notesfor almost two months, Yata knew all sorts of facts about the other, but whatSaruhiko actually looked like was still a mystery, and the worst part was, hewas the only one in the dark. All his morning coworkers, his bosses, they all knew.

It’s not like it would’ve mattered, if it hadn’tbeen for the fact that Yata, somewhere in between those exchanged insults,which had then turned into casual questions, and then small talk, hadcompletely developed a crush by accident.

How fucking lame.

It wasn’t like he could help it. He’d learned asurprisingly amount of stuff about Saruhiko, and in return had shared a goodamount of stuff about himself. Maybe it was stupid, after all, Saruhiko wastechnically a stranger, but…

Yata smiled to himself as he wrung out a new rag,bits and pieces of conversations running through his head in a split second. Hethought about each note, each topic and fact he’d learned about the other boy,all leading up to the very last one he’d had.

'Hey, how come you never come eat dinner oranything here? You come every day for lunch.’

'Do you want me to?’

Yata nearly dropped the utensils he’d beenpicking up as a flush spread out across his face. Fuck, thank god Saruhikowasn’t actually at Homra, Yata was mess today…

Yata stared at the singular question, bitinghis bottom lip, because really, the answer was obvious. Of course, he wantedSaruhiko to come when he was actually working. Yata wanted to see him, talk tohim in person, maybe…

Yata shut that train of thought down as fast ashe could, and instead shakily wrote out his response.

'Well…yeah, don’t you want to?’

It might’ve been lame, but what did Yata have tolose? He was pretty sure his feelings were obvious anyways…right? Could thosethings even come across in such little notes? Sure, sometimes they’d use up twoor three for their responses, almost like letters, if the conversation neededit, but was that enough?

Yata tried to reason with himself that if itwasn’t obvious, if Saruhiko asked, he’d have to spill his guts. Then…ifSaruhiko rejected him, there’d be no real problem, because they didn’t knoweach other and would never have to cross paths.

Yata swallowed thickly at the thought though.No, that wasn’t true. He didn’t know what Saruhiko looked like, the color ofhis eyes, the style of his hair, but he knew he liked video games, and hatedparties, and his hobby was graphic design, and he seldom slept well, and awhole bunch of other shit which made him feel close to the other.

Yata snapped back to the present when Chitosecontinued to talk to him. “You know Yata, you don’t exactly have to worry.That guy comes in and the first thing he does is read your note and respond, hedoes it before he even gets his coffee! That guy practically lives off thatshit too…”

Yata’s hands tightened around the rag, the watersloshing out over the table he’d been cleaning way too long, and a spike ofhappiness nearly knocked him into oblivion.

Saruhiko…was excited to talk to him.

“So, yeah,” Chitose said breezily,waving goodbye as he headed out the door. “He’s into you, so write yourdamn response and ask him out already!”

Kusanagi chuckled beside him, flipping through thepaperwork he held as he shot Yata a knowing look, and headed to the other sideof the cafe.

Ask him out…

Part of Yata wondered if it was too soon, if therequest would be too sudden, but then there was that knowledge from before. Heknew Saruhiko, not fully, but…

He knew Saruhiko was smart. That was the firstthing he’d discovered.

–

One day, Yata hauled himself through the cafedoors grumpily, pinning on his name tag and carrying his bin over to tablefour, same as every day, expecting the usual smart ass note. He’d gotten one ofcourse, a response to his last, and a bit longer than usual, taking up almostthe whole sticky note.

'I don’t do my homework here because I want to,it’s just quieter, but you sound obnoxious, so maybe you just don’t knowanything about that concept. I like getting my homework done all at once, it’sa pain if I wait.’

Yata glared down at it, pulling out his ownpack of notes (which he now kept in his pockets, as one does when engaged in anote war with a rude son of a bitch) in preparation for his reply. Somethingstopped him that day though. He looked over mid-sentence, seeing a stack ofpapers which stood out from the usual notes and scribbles Saruhiko tended toleave behind.

They seemed more important somehow, and begrudgingly, Yata scooped them up,intent on putting them in the lost and found. Upon closer inspection, hefigured out they had been a few of the other’s past exams, physics from whatthe headers said, and Saruhiko had scored high.

Like, impossibly high. And shit, it was prettyamazing.

He’d stared at them for a good two minutes,going over the information on each page, the difficult concepts whichSaruhiko’s nice writing seemed to answer quickly and efficiently, like anexpert, and Yata couldn’t help but be impressed.

All previous comebacks and taunts left hismind, and he’d written one question on the small square for the day.

'Hey, you scored almost perfect on yourtests! What do you study?? That’s so cool!’

It was only later that Yata raced back to thetable before closing, and added something to the end.

'For a jerk anyways!’

Saruhiko had ended up being a double major, inphysics and biology, and Yata wondered how he wasn’t dead. Saruhiko had seemedshy at first to answer Yata’s questions about university life, but after awhile, most things were fair game. Saruhiko liked his professors well enough,but he thought his campus was too crowded. Saruhiko got good grades (somethinghe’d only admitted after a lot of prodding on Yata’s part), and his Tuesdaysand Thursdays were the busiest.

'What about you?’

It was the third week of their correspondencewhen Saruhiko asked him his first question, and for whatever reason, it madeYata’s heart stop for a millisecond, and he’d paused before reading the rest ofthe note.

'You don’t go to school or anything?’

“Ooo, what are you gonna say?”Chitose’s voice came up behind him, and Yata all but had a heart attack,jumping back and hitting his hip against the table, all the while Chitose wenton as normal. “That must be kinda embarrassing…but don’t worry!”

Yata’s annoyed look morphed into confusion, andhe blinked at his friend. “Huh…embarrassing? Why?”

Chitose must’ve realized right then that he’dstepped on a land mine, because he waved his hands in front of him immediately.“N-nothing! Just tell him whatever you were gonna tell him!”

The damage was done though, and Yata wasnervous. Still, he wasn’t a liar…

'No…I dropped out of high school becauseit rlly wasn’t for me you know? I work though! My jobs aren’t for smart peopleI guess ha, but I’m glad I have them!’

Yata tried not to sound too defensive, but hecouldn’t help it. He didn’t want Saruhiko to think he was dumb (if he didn’talready), and the rest of the day and the next was filled with a strange new anxiety.

The next day, he’d gone to table four, and therest of his shift, his coworkers were concerned his face was stuck in apermanent grin.

'You have a job, so what does the rest matter?’

After that, it had been easy to tell Saruhiko allhis work stories, all his encounters with mean customers and dumb jokes fromthe break room. Saruhiko asked him more questions than before, stuff about ifhe liked working in a restaurant, and if it made him sick of the food.

It was so weird, being able to talk to Saruhiko sonaturally. By the end of the first month, Yata knew he just clicked with theother, and damn it, he wasn’t going to let that slip by. Though…

Getting the more personal details out of Saruhiko,it had been more of a challenge, but Yata never backed down from those.

'You must study a lot, when do you have timefor fun? Hanging out with friends and stuff…All my friends work in thiscenter, so it’s awesome!’

'Fun? Most of the people I talk to areclassmates, so I see them often. I don’t dislike them I guess.’

Yata smirked at that. Saruhiko was so hesitantat admitting things sometimes, Yata could tell from his writing alone.Basically, in Saruhiko speak, he did indeed have friends, and he probably likedthem a lot.

Yata didn’t exactly know where to start withthe response. He had so many questions. What were Saruhiko’s friends like? DidSaruhiko act different around them? Did he have a lot? What did they dotogether?

There was so much he wanted to know, it waslike he was playing catch up. He was jealous of people who already knewSaruhiko, who got to be around him all the time…

Eventually, Yata calmed down, and figured thetopic of friends would be a long conversation and was better saved for later.Besides, what he wanted to know most of all…

'You don’t have anything else you like todo? I play video games when I get home! I also like action movies n stuff. Dou? What are your faves??’

Yata was excited to know. Small details, bigdetails, whatever Saruhiko would offer. It was after that reply that he’d begunto start day dreaming. Maybe he and Saruhiko could go see movies together, ifthey liked the same kinds. Or maybe Saruhiko could come to his apartment andthey could play video games, Saruhiko would probably be good at the strategyones…

He’d bolted into the cafe the next day, hardlyremembering to shrug on his apron as he walked briskly to the table which he’dcome to hate less and less each day.

His heart raced when he realized he’d been leftfive notes, small paragraphs, and he wanted to jump for joy.

'I guess, I like those things too.’

It was shortly after, in between the movieanalyses and talking about their game collections, that Yata knew he likedSaruhiko more than just a friend.

–

Yata began to look forward to each new note, nomatter how brief. He grew excited, thinking about the papers of physics noteswith little doodles and messages about how to beat certain bosses in the newestgame they both owned. Yata was so lame, he was even happy about picking upSaruhiko’s half empty coffee cup, still warm and serving as a reminder thatyes, Saruhiko was real, and he’d only just missed him. Yata would run from hisfirst job, eager to see what Saruhiko had left him in the shoddy napkin holder.Yata would daydream at his morning job, dream that maybe if he ran fast enough,he’d catch Saruhiko before he left and they’d finally meet.

No such luck so far.

Yata finished cleaning the last table just as thefirst party showed up for the beginning of the dinner rush, and he realized itwas now or never.

He didn’t think he had enough confidence to askSaruhiko out quite yet, plus…part of him wanted to do something like that inperson, as cheesy as it was.

“Welcome to Homra, how many thisevening?” Douhan’s level voice carried through the cafe, alerting the waitstaff and cooks to get ready, and Yata made his decision. He still had one morequestion he wanted to ask, no matter how humiliating it was, no matter how muchSaruhiko might laugh at him for it.

Walking over to table four, Yata gently pulled outSaruhiko’s last note to him.

'I can’t come at dinner time until my semesteris over, my classes run late, by the time I’m out, the cafe is closed.’

Yata’s breath catches again, as it had the firsttime he read it, as his eyes drifted to the second half of the note. 'Otherwise, I would.’

He would come see me if he could. Once thesemester is over, Saruhiko can come see me.

It’s all the motivation he needed really, as he tookout his pen and the dumb stack of duck shaped notes.

'I’m glad you can come at all, I want youto. Btw Saruhiko–’

The crowds start to flood in, and Yata took in adeep breath.

’-what do you look like?’

–

As Yata sat in bed after a long day, he foundhimself wondering what the fuck compelled him to ask that question. It probablylooked super weird, maybe even pervy, and he was cursing himself once again.

It was too late though, he’d done it. That dumbnote was sitting in the napkin holder right now, unable to be retrieved or tornup. Saruhiko was going to read it, and the realization made Yata giddy andnauseated all at once.

He wanted to know, he wanted to know so much ithurt. He wanted to put a face to the name, make his daydreams less hazy.Saruhiko had to be handsome, it didn’t matter if it was in the traditionalsense or not. Saruhiko would be handsome to Yata, there was nodoubt. Yata had theorized before, and it was fun, but there was no beating thetruth. At the thought, he laughed to himself, clutching his pillow a littletighter as a few memories crossed his mind.

'Ur a real piece of shit. You should rllyeat better…and stop leaving ur shit on the table!’

Saruhiko had left another plate of vegetablesabandoned that day, and Yata glared. The homework he’d gotten used to, withmost of his initial anger about it gone, but the food was something which hadcontinued to bother him.

'I don’t like vegetables. What do you care?’

'I don’t know, all you drink is coffee, andif you don’t eat vegetables, who knows what kind of shit you’re eating atdinner time!’

'How sweet of you, but I’m alive, so no need tonag me.’

Looking back at those few days of exchanges, Yatasmiled fondly. Saruhiko was probably some skinny guy, that much he could guess.Then there was also the other annoying detail…

'I could totally take you! I’m tougher thanI look!’

The proclamation had ended up being a mistake.

'Oh? Are you on the smaller side then? How tallare you, Misaki?’

A few days and some embarrassed insults later,Yata found out how tall Saruhiko was.

What a bastard…

That was it though. Saruhiko was tall, probablyskinny, and always looked tired (according to his co-workers). Yata had anagging feeling that he didn’t smile much either, but it somehow seemed to fit.

As gone as Yata was, he couldn’t help but beannoyed that the only thing Saruhiko knew about his appearance was his height.

–

“Um…Yata-kun, aren’t you going to readit?”

Awashima’s voice sounded miles away, but even thenhe could hear the light teasing there, and it became a bit clearer as to whyshe and Kusanagi were perfect partners after all.

“Uh, why?” Yata winced at his own stupidquestion.

“Well…it’s quite obvious you want to,”she tried again, tapping her pen against the table’s surface. “You’ve beenhere quite a while.”

She had a point. Yata had been standing in frontof table four for way too long, staring at the napkin holder with sweaty palmsand a flushed face as the corners of the same, plain blue note stuck out.

Fuck.

There it was, the excitement pooling in his gut.Would Saruhiko indulge him, would he finally know? Or would he be made fun ofor called weird? Would this be the last note he ever–

“Yata, you still have six more tables,”Douhan’s calm voice called from the hostess stand, and it was enough to snaphim out of it. Though they could be a little too perceptive for Yata’s comfort,he was thankful for his female co-workers, if only because they helped him geta grip.

Right, I have to read it now or wait untilafter dinner, and hell no am I doing that!

Carefully, he reached forward, tugging at the foldof paper. It was only one note, not the usual three or four, so he already feltdread as he unfolded it, the neat words revealing themselves.

All anxiety was replaced with relieved amusement,and Yata didn’t know whether to be pissed off or over the moon.

'I don’t know. Normal I guess. Why?’

God, if that wasn’t such a Saruhiko thing to say.

He started laughing, which must’ve concernedAwashima, because she reached to pluck the note from his hands, reading it inconfusion.

“He’s an odd one.”

Yeah…

When his chuckles finally subsided, Yata feltready to work, deciding to leave his response for after his shift was over.

He was in a good mood throughout the dinner rush,and actually ended up receiving a few tips from customers who found hispresence refreshing when he went out to help with large parties. All the while,Saruhiko’s note was on his mind.

Yata couldn’t believe he’d expected anything different.Saruhiko, the same shy Saruhiko he’d been talking to, wouldn’t just give him anall-out description of his fashion sense, of his eye color, his face shape.Hell, he probably hadn’t even considered it, and it made Yata grin whenever hethought about it.

What a loser.

Sometime in the midst of his rounds, he droppedoff his reply, and this time he couldn’t wait for Saruhiko’s.

'No! I meant what do you LOOK like? Youdumbass. I want to kno that shit, don’t you?’

The next day, Yata was on cloud nine.

'Of course, don’t be dumb.’

–

There had been some resistance even after that,Saruhiko was obviously too humble, but after Yata had looked at his own self inthe mirror (which had been painfully awkward and sorta weird to do alone in hisown apartment for longer than a few minutes), and told Saruhiko hisobservations with little embellishment, Yata had gotten what he wanted.

He bit his lip, clocking into work after his breakand letting the thoughts flood him.

Saruhiko was tall. Lanky and tall. He had blue eyes, and his skin was light and pale.Saruhiko styled his hair with gel, the brown swoops would otherwise sit flat onhis head apparently, which annoyed him greatly. Saruhiko wore a lot of hoodiesand jeans, and he also sported simple, black framed glasses.

With each detail, the blurred image in Yata’s headbecame clearer and clearer, though it was never enough.

The taller’s eyes probably stood out brightlyagainst his skin, the glasses heavy and managing to hide the bags of exhaustionunder Saruhiko’s eyes. Saruhiko’s hair was probably long enough to thread hishands through it, Yata would probably have to push off his feet a bit to be eyeto eye, to kis–

“Yata, table three!”

“R-right!”

Every 'probably’ in his head multiplied, but ashappy as it made him, he wasn’t sated.

I want to see him.

He wanted every 'probably’ to become 'actually.’

–

'I want to see you for real now.’

'There’s not much to see.’

…

'Saruhiko, ur an ass but I think I reallylike you.’

'You’re obnoxious, but I probably like you too.I can’t explain it otherwise, it’s annoying.’

'Explain what?’

'Why I think about you.’

…

'Have you ever kissed anyone before? Ihaven’t but I bet I wouldn’t be that bad heh…’

'Mm. You probably wouldn’t be. I don’t knowabout me though. It doesn’t look too hard. It’s stupid.’

'Well pft I’d help or whatever.’

–

It was another month of replies later, and it wasthe last week of university instruction. Not that Yata had looked it up oranything…no way.

The conversations with Saruhiko had gotten moreand more intimate, to the point where Yata would wake up with…problems, andhe’d get distracted at work more often.

He got made fun of, of course. He was pretty sureEric (the perv) had peeked at more than a few notes, and Chitose had shot himknowing glances across the room more times than he could count. Douhan andAwashima also felt the need to update him every day now, which he was secretlygrateful for.

'He blushed today, I’ve never seen him do that,what did you tell him?’

'He actually smiled, it was unreal.’

'He cleaned up after himself when he spilled hiscoffee. He looked pretty determined to keep the table clean.’

Though all the teasing and implications werehumiliating, it couldn’t stomp out the overall ecstasy he was feeling as theweeks went by, and now…

'My last final is Thursday afternoon.’

The week couldn’t go by any slower.

He dropped about five plates over the next fewdays, bumped into tables one too many times, and Kusanagi had scolded him quitea bit more than usual. He couldn’t help it, he was distracted.

Saruhiko was going to come eat dinner on Thursday.Saruhiko was going to be there when Yata was working. Saruhiko was going tomeet him.

Rumor spread in the cafe pretty damn quickly,which only served to make Yata twenty times more nervous.

What if Saruhiko changed his mind, or didn’t likewhat he saw? What if they had nothing to talk about in person?

Shit, I’m screwed. Why am I being such a kidabout this?

“Yata.”

Douhan’s light voice made Yata jump, clutching hischest as he turned to see her in the doorway of the break room, calm and maybea bit put off from the noise.

“Uh…s-sorry. What is it?”

Wordlessly, she closed the distance, pulling outan object from her bag and handing it to him, before turning back and out thedoor.

Right before she left for good, she turned, aneasy grin on her usually impassive face. “He left it for you today.”

Yata’s eyes widened, flying to the item in hishand, only to see it was the newest game for the console only Saruhiko owned. Yatahad the older model, so he was confused at first, to say the least. There wasanother note on top however, a smaller one, but it was everything to Yata.

'It’s a quick game, maybe on Thursday, you cantry it out at my place to see if you want to borrow it. Something tells me someoneas brash as you would need help anyways.’

A shiver ran throughhim, and Yata stupidly clutched the note in his hand, rushing to the employeeroom to put it somewhere safe, as if he was imagining it and wanted prooflater.

Saruhiko was such a dick, but he was also awkwardand shy and had totally invited Yata over, and the redhead’s anxiety quicklyspun into anticipation.

–

The last note he left Saruhiko was on Wednesdaynight.

'I’ll see you at dinner you loser.’

–

Thursday’s dinner shift was one of the worst inhistory, and while Yata wasn’t one for superstitions aside from the occasionalparanormal shit, he was pretty convinced the shift had been littered with badomens.

First, a spill at table six, which had left hissweater completely covered in some screaming kid’s root beer. Yata handled itlike a champ, not letting his discomfort show until he’d calmed the boy downwith another soda and a replacement coloring set and made his way to the back.

He’d worn one of his nice hoodies, one with lesstears and unraveled threads. He may have worked as a busboy, and no doubt hisclothes got dirty with each shift and he smelled like dish water, but damnit,if he wasn’t going to try and make some kind of impression on the guy he’d beeninterested in for months!

Sadly, the plan had failed, though he couldn’t saythe plain white long sleeve he had on under his sweater was that bad. He’d just have to becareful…

That plan had also been flushed straight down theshitter.

One of the newer employees had also managed to letthe mop sink in the back overflow, and Yata had been the one to clean it,effectively soaking through his shoes and socks.

The most recent issue, the dreaded Burger Incident(Chitose had already given it a name, ha fucking ha), was still sitting heavyon his shoulders (and on his shirt).

Who knew slipping on a slightly under cooked pattywould lead to a near death experience.

Yata sighed heavily as he cleared yet anothertable, trying his best to keep on a neutral expression as the chaos of thedinner rush continued around him.

Then…there was the biggest disappointment.

It was halfway into the rush, and still noSaruhiko. Yata tried to reason through it as best he could, but he’d never beenthe particularly patient type.

He’s just running late.

There’s still two hours left.

He wouldn’t forget.

He wants to see me.

But as he looked to the door, where new familiesand business executives kept coming through, he felt his heart sinking.

“Excuse me.”

Maybe he’s just…

“Excuse me sir!”

Yata was jolted back to his senses by the sound ofa woman from two tables down, and it was obvious her irritated stare wasdirected at him. Yata straightened immediately, making his way over and lettinghis customer service persona consume him as best he could. He wasn’t a server,but Kusanagi always said it was everyone’s job to assist patrons.

With his usual grin and unsuspecting optimism,Yata waited for whatever the woman had to say, trying not to take it toopersonally when she didn’t even face him when she was speaking.

“Yes, if you could, would you find my waiter?He can’t even take a proper food order it seems, I asked for seasonedvegetables, not rice, and I wanted this steak well done.”

In his head, Yata’s alert system goes offimmediately, because really, this is how most 'awful customer’ situationsbegin, and he knows he has to diffuse it as quickly as possible.

Since it was table nine, it was most likelyChitose’s, and luckily the other could talk his way out of most situations. Hewas probably ringing someone up…

“Ah, I’m really sorry about that m'am! Let mejust find him and take this back to the kitch–”

“How difficult is it really? I was very clearwith my order, I expect him to be properly dealt with.”

And that’s when Yata tenses.

Uh oh.

Douhan’s green irises flashed in his directionfrom where she was seating another party, and they seemed to echo the samerealization.

It’s one of those. This is bad. Abort mission.

'One of those’ usually meant a rather intensecustomer, someone who complained about little things, and simultaneously putdown the staff. They were never fun, and Yata had seen it from afar, butdealing with it himself was terrifying.

“Again, I apologize, I’ll take care of it andget you a new meal as soon as possible!”

Please leave it at that. Please leave it atthat.

She doesn’t.

“My dinner should be free at this point, canI speak to the manager?” The lady is looking at him now, finally, sincebefore she’d only been scowling at the drinks menu as if she was above lookinghim in the face. Her eyes roamed over him, once, and then once more, slower thesecond time, until her nose crinkled up in dissatisfaction. It seemed she’dfinally noticed.

Yata didn’t really have to guess what she wasgoing to say, he’d often been given snooty looks from customers, it just camewith his job. Sometimes, no matter how nice or genuine he was about his hardwork, people couldn’t see past the rolled up sleeves and stains on his apron.But, it never failed to make him sick either way.

“Oh. Yes, I absolutely will need tospeak to a manager. What a waste of breath, I doubt a busboy could help me inany–”

“It’s odd that someone who’s already eatenmore than half their meal would have any complaints,” a smooth, low voicecut through the air between Yata and the customer, and only then did Yatarealize someone was standing next to him. For whatever reason, he felt hisentire body shiver, like it had registered something before he had.“You’re disturbing the other people here with your nonsense, myselfincluded.”

The woman sputtered, overcome with theembarrassment of other people’s eyes on her, but Yata didn’t care at all abouther regrets about making such a fuss, because as soon as he turned to his side,he was practically blindsided.

He was looking at the other man’s waist first,because he was holding something out for Yata to take, and the redhead graspedfor it dumbly. Menus…

“A server forgot to collect these from mytable, so here,” he said, and fuck that voice was so smooth. Yatanodded, basically too busy to process the fact that the menus were supposed tostay at the table anyways,and finally looked up into the face he’d been dreaming about for months.

The rest of the conversations around him might aswell have been nonexistent, his body on autopilot as he began to move away whenKusanagi came to take over the disturbance. Yatawas too blown away, couldn’t even make himself turn back to the customer as shemuttered out an embarrassed apology, because fuck, he would know those eyes in frontof him anywhere.

Blue, sharp, like the calm in the wake of a stormat sea, threatening to drown him with one step into its depths.

He’d never seen them before, but he knew.

There was no mistaking the intensity of the gaze,the way his face was framed by the messily styled hair, the slightly concealedbags underneath his glasses…

Yata knew exactly who it was, would’ve known himin the largest of crowds or most muddled of spaces.

He had been right, Saruhiko was handsome, but moreso than Yata had expected, or knew how to handle. His back hit the far wall bythe entrance to the kitchen, distanced a bit from the dining area, struck withthe exciting observation that Saruhiko had fucking walked him backwards over to somewhere moreprivate, maybe without noticing too, judging from how those calculating eyes weretaking Yata in as well, soaking in every detail, and the redhead could onlyhope Saruhiko was as pleased as he himself was.

God I probably look and smell like shit…butSaruhiko is…

“Wow…” It slipped out before Yata couldstop himself, and he straightened quickly when Saruhiko’s eyes snapped up tomeet his, and Yata could see the other swallow and fuck I can’t do this.

But then the moment in time resumed, and all thesounds of the dining room and laughter flooded back to Yata’s ears with oneclick of Saruhiko’s tongue. The taller glared at the ground, avoiding Yata’sgaze as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Wow yourself…” Saruhiko mutteredshyly, the faintest hint of a blush sweeping acrosshis cheeks, and Yata was pretty sure he was gonna marry this stupid jerk.“I hope that’s not all you can say.”

Ah yeah, this was definitely Saruhiko.

“Shut up! You know it’s not!”

“Well obviously you can write,” Saruhiko replied,his lips upturning in a slight smirk which Yata couldn’t help but return.“But who knows?”

“What?” Yata’s eyes were challenging nowhe was sure, and he was grateful that they were pretty much hidden from view,only servers walking by would be able to see how close they were, how Yata wasstaring between Saruhiko’s lips and eyes because he couldn’t decide which oncewas better. “You think I’m an impostor?”

“No,” Saruhiko’s answer was quick,cutting almost, and the urge to kiss him intensified about twenty times more.

No, it would be too soon…right?

Maybe the whole thingwas going too fast, but Saruhiko was so easy to engage with, the words wouldn’tstop, and it didn’t help Yata’s urges. Calm down…

But then he remembered the months ofconversations, of exchanging fucking letters essentially, and all the dumbthings he knew about the other. Saruhiko’s daily routine, the classes he took,how he liked his coffee, his favorite movies and video games, and then suddenlyit didn’t seem too soon at all.

Fuck…no no…we haven’t even done properintroductions, he just showed up! I should shake his hand or…talk aboutsomething else…yeah uh–

“There’s no way it’s not you,” Saruhikocontinued, voice lowering as if he was trying to make it as inaudible aspossible. “You’re better than I pictured.”

The 'maybe I should kiss him’ in Yata’s headinstantly became 'I definitely will.’

Yata shakily raised his hands to Saruhiko’s shirtcollar, because thehell with handshakes, and he flushed furiously, trying not to seem like atotal loser as Saruhiko stepped even closer into the touch, lips parting.

Hell…

He seriously hoped no one would come by to watchhim tremble like a teenager with his first kiss, but that’s what it felt like,and it was exciting and he wanted it more than anything.

“U-uh…w-well I’m gonna–”

“Yeah,” Saruhiko cut him off, and theyboth leaned in, their lips crashing together in a kiss Yata had waited way too long for.

Saruhiko’s skin was cold from the outside air, buthis breath was hot against Yata’s face as they tentatively pulled back everynow and again, only to curiously push forward to press their mouths backtogether. Each peck seemed innocent, closed mouthed and experimental, yet therewas nothing slow about the kisses. They were hungry, quick, light smackingbeing created as a result, and Yata felt like he could fly if he tried.Saruhiko smelled like peppermint and coffee with just the slightest edge ofhair product thrown in, and Yata breathed in greedily as Saruhiko’s hand pulledhim closer.

It was only when Yata heard a triumphant 'yes!’ beingyelled from the kitchen, followed by an 'ow,’ did Yata break away inembarrassment.

His face was impossibly red, but he still managedto throw open the kitchen door to glare at Chitose, who was holding his sidefrom where Awashima had jabbed him. Right, Yata had forgotten about the smallwindow in the kitchen’s door. He hadn’t even thought Chitose would considerpeeping through it either. The older man had no sense of shame though, simplythrowing Yata a thumbs up before the door shut again.

Yata needed to pay more attention to hissurroundings. He groaned, hiding his face in his hands while Saruhiko took afew steps away.

He’d gotten carried away, but considering howgreat of a fucking kiss that had been, he couldn’t regret it too much.

“U-um…we should uh…maybe…” Yatastuttered uselessly, eyes meeting Saruhiko’s again and rendering speech moreimpossible than before.

Fuck it.

He thrust his hand out awkwardly, nearly jabbingSaruhiko in the stomach with the action, and watched as the taller stared atthe outstretched hand in confusion.

“Yata Misaki, nice to finally meet you.”

It was stupid, since they’d just fucking kissed, and had learned eachother’s names months ago, but it was the best Yatacould do.

The silence between them was starting to get tohim though, his hand beginning to shake as he awkwardly kept it in front ofhim, and he was torn between laughing it off as a joke or simply jumping offthe nearest cliff.

But then there was a smooth hand slipping intohis, grasping firmly in what was probably the most unnecessary handshake ever,and Yata sighed with obvious relief. Saruhiko’s hand was cold, and Yatatightened his grip, eager to change that.

“Really? Fine. Fushimi Saruhiko.”

Yeah, it sounds so much better in person.

Yata grinned brightly, and as Saruhiko returnedit, he knew nothing would ruin the moment. He doubted he’d ever forget iteither.

“I work for a few more hours, can youwait?” Yata hoped the offer to go home with Saruhiko still stood, his bodypractically vibrating in excitement.

Saruhiko smirked in full this time, and yeah, Yatawas gone.

“Table for one?”

#sarumi #k project #adri writing #fushimi saruhiko #yata misaki

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