Miyuki Kazuya & Kuramochi Youichi & Maezono Kenta, Kominato Ryousuke & Kominato Haruichi, the tiny budding of Kuramochi/Ryousuke, Daiya no A mentioned past death, ghosts, cisswap (myk, moch, and kominatos) or, the ghostbusters au no one asked for, 2643 words
"What the hell."
Kazuha only looks up because of the tone those three words are said in, rather than the speaker that says them. Usually when she hears that incredulous, vaguely furious voice, she knows she's probably about to get a roundhouse kick to the ass if she doesn't tread carefully. Thankfully, she's mastered pushing her luck to get that reaction and then artfully, if verbally, dodging away from getting throttled.
Kuramochi stares at her from the doorway, takeout bag precariously loose in her fingers.
"So," Kazuha begins, pointing her screwdriver down at the bag. "Maybe don't drop that? I'm hungry."
"Miyuki," Kuramochi growls.
Kazuha raises her hand, and the screwdriver, placatingly.
It does not help. The growl continues as she slams the door shut behind her.
Rather than let a rabid roommate get her hands on her work, Kazuha pulls it all into her chest, hovering over it like Kuramochi can't get to any of it. "If it's any consolation, none of these parts are from anything important?"
It's probably because her own food is also in the bag that Kuramochi doesn't slam it down on the table, now that there's space amidst all the chaos of her project. "What the fuck are you even doing? Is that coupler from the microwave?"
"Okay, in my defense, the microwave was dying," Kazuha tells her. "So there's a lot of parts from the microwave in here."
There's a safe moment where the focus is taken off her and put on the food, thankfully. Food tends to make Kuramochi less dangerous. Usually. Sometimes.
So Kazuha relaxes, slowly settling in her seat again as Kuramochi unpacks the food, grumbling under her breath, much of it unsavory things towards Kazuha. Casually, she continues, as she pulls her own food towards herself while Kuramochi digs into hers. "I'm making a ghost trap, by the by."
Kuramochi promptly chokes on her gyoza.
***
As it turns out, ghost hunting isn't as much of a lucrative business as it'd once been when the government paid occultists to investigate hauntings and the like. It also turns out that it's not very well respected. Shrine workers get respect, but they're a different can of worms that Kazuha's not going to focus on. That's spiritual, not scientific.
But ever since she was a kid, Kazuha's wanted to know about the scientific place of ghosts and spirits and ghouls, because the answer of it's magic just doesn't sit right with her. There's no explanation there, at least not one that satiates her.
So, ghost hunting and the creation of equipment to allow them to study them.
"I don't know how you drag me into these things," Kuramochi bitches, helping her put together a casing for the positron collider she's built out of spare (or stolen, mostly) parts and their dying microwave. Despite her complaints, she's deft with the tools, and has little trouble figuring out exactly what Kazuha is aiming for in her design.
Also, despite appearances, Kuramochi makes modifications to the design that actually make it a little... safer. They'll probably get radiation poisoning still, but at least there's less of a chance of them being blown up while carrying around miniature versions of a Large Electron-Positron Collider that run on nuclear power.
"You're a thrill seeker," Kazuha drawls, banging a piece in where it won't fit. "And like the idea of possibly punching a ghost in the face."
There's a beat where Kuramochi scratches at her shaved sides with the screwdriver, and then returns to screwing the casing in place. "Okay, fair."
"And we'd be famous for proving their existence," Kazuha continues, once she's gotten things mostly together.
Square peg, round hole: zero. Miyuki Kazuha: one.
"And rich," Kuramochi agrees.
***
When asked about why she went into paranormal investigation, Kazuha frequently dismisses the questions and answers with cheeky, flippant responses. She wants to be rich, she wants to be famous, she wants to prove to the world that she's right, that she wants to explore the unknown and show it to everyone.
The real answer is that she wants to see her mother again. Only one person knows the truth, and she'd like to keep it that way, if she can help it.
She hasn't even told her father about it.
Her mother had passed away peacefully one night, in the hospital after months and months of pain, and it'd been both a relief that it was over and heart wrenching at the same time. Everything was a whirlwind of preparation right after her death, preparations for her wake set in motion only days later. Kazuha was six years old and more than a little unsure of what to do, for once in her life.
But in the midst of the grief, Kazuha had seen her mother one night. She'd woken up, left her room for some asinine reason that she doesn't even remember anymore, and she'd seen her standing over where her father had fallen asleep at the table, letters and condolences and plans scattered around him.
Her mother had looked... sad, but like she'd accepted it. And then she'd looked up at Kazuha, and smiled, and then was gone.
Every night until the wake, and the funeral the day after, Kazuha would leave her room and find the ethereal figure of her mother overlooking their family. Like it was her goodbye.
***
Word travels through the grapevine until it reaches them. Kazuha stuck her feelers out years ago to find the right connections for information, blackmailing where she had to to get what they needed, and it finally comes in handy one day.
So she and Kuramochi show up on Zono's doorstep one day with a prototype pack and an address.
He takes one look at the two of them - Kazuha's smirk shitty and maybe a little manic, Kuramochi's grin wild and rakish - and moves to close the door.
Kuramochi sticks one of her combat boots in the way, the door simply bouncing off the steel toe, and shoulders inside.
"Oh no," Zono protests anyways, trying to keep Kazuha out especially. "No, no way. You are not taking me on another wild goose chase - "
"You'd be overjoyed if it was a goose chase," Kazuha hums, ducking his grabbing hands and trotting after Kuramochi.
Zono despairs immediately. "No, I'd be overjoyed if you just left me alone - don't touch that, Kuramochi!"
She ignores him, moving one of his antiques off his coffee table to unroll some floor plans across it.
Kazuha pats him on the arm, dropping the pack down with a heavy thump so she can roll and stretch out her shoulder. "We need someone with a car to help us with our gear, and even your tiny ass smart car will do in a pinch."
Kuramochi grunts, a small noise of agreement, marking notes all over the plans. "We got enough weird looks for the pack on the train, and there's no way we can carry the rest - oi, Miyuki, where do you want to set up the thermal detector?"
"Why are neither of you listening to me?" Zono asks, though it sounds rhetorical.
Kazuha answers anyways as she ties her hair up into a bun, looking over Kuramochi's shoulder. "Because you're not about to let us go off and get ourselves killed by doing something stupid."
A pregnant silence falls over them, until Zono eventually sighs, his shoulders sagging, and he comes over to take a look at the plans with them. "I hate you."
"Uhhuh," Kuramochi replies absently.
Kazuha grins, unperturbed. "I know."
***
Very few people are aware of the fact that Maezono Kenta is actually a gigantic softy. He volunteers at the animal shelter during the weekend, drives an electric smart car that's three sizes too small for him, goes to the farmer's market, and likes to go antiquing.
He's also terrified of ghosts and ghost stories.
Kuramochi was the one to find this out, and delighted in this discovery when she'd made him scream like a girl one night, having blooded herself up and put in a pair of white contacts. Kazuha had recorded it and cackled for almost an hour right there with Kuramochi, until Zono had threatened to throw them in the river. It was a mostly empty threat, although one of these days Kazuha has a feeling that he's going to go through with the promise. At least with her.
This might be the breaking point.
"You just said you'd need help transporting things!" Zono yells into the empty house, carrying the prototype pack on his back. It's a little snug on him, considering it was designed with Kuramochi's broad but still feminine figure in mind, but he's obviously less concerned about that and more about the way the house creaks as it settles.
There's a little sympathy in Kuramochi's face as she looks back at him, but not much. Especially considering she rolls her eyes. "Chill out. Even if something does happen, the ghost's just been rumored to be a troublemaker, not a poltergeist."
"Yet," Kazuha points out.
"Yet," Kuramochi agrees, and then grins at Zono. "So don't scare it with that mug of yours, huh?"
When Zono scowls at her, the entry room is filled with Kuramochi's signature two-note laugh, which echoes into the silence of the rest of the house. Kazuha squints as she shines a flashlight down the hall, like she can see if the laughter summons anything. When nothing comes, she flicks it back off.
"All right, let's scope out the first floor before we head upstairs. Basement is closed off, supposedly, so we'll save breaking into that for last."
"Is that even legal?" Zono asks. "That's probably not legal."
"It's not," Kuramochi and Kazuha answer simultaneously.
"Great."
Kazuha grins at him, clapping her hands together. "Isn't it? C'mon, let's go. Here, Kuramochi - " she tosses the flashlight to her, unsurprised when she catches it. " - you take point, punch a ghost if it gets ornery."
Kuramochi rolls her eyes but turns the flashlight on anyways, moving down the hall. "Chickenshit."
"I don't trust you with the camera," Kazuha simpers. "You left the lens cap on last time."
"One time!" Kuramochi barks back over her shoulder, stomping ahead.
Kazuha and Zono look at each other as she goes; Kazuha shrugs, and Zono glares, before they both follow.
***
The first floor is largely uneventful, which isn't too surprising. The lights work every now and then, electricity buzzing where they won't turn on, and they just move on from room to room when nothing registers on the meter. Kazuha stares through the camera as they go, looking for any sign of electrical disturbance.
It's as they're turning the corner on the way back to the main room that they get the shit scared out of them, the beam of the flashlight in Kuramochi's hand landing on an ethereal face.
"Holy shit!" she yelps.
Zono covers his mouth to keep from shrieking.
Kazuha fumbles the camera trying to focus on the figure ahead of them.
"You're very loud," the face tells them, scathingly sweet, a dainty hand lifted to shield her eyes from the flashlight being shined directly in her face. "And if there's a spirit here, you've surely annoyed them into leaving. Good job."
"Aneki..." another voice chides, the same sweet sound of it softened when it's not backed by something sharp as a knife.
"And you're not a ghost," Kazuha says, disappointedly lowering the camera. She's about to say more when she gets a look at Kuramochi next to her, flashlight lowered enough to not shine in anyone's eyes. Not that she's sure it matters, because Kazuha can't even see any eyes through those frankly Disney princess length eyelashes, but her attention drops from the newcomer's face to where Kuramochi is looking. And shining the light.
That's one hell of a rack.
A hand enters their field of vision, snapping at them, and they both look up at the same time to see the literally most dangerous smile either of them has witnessed in their entire lives. Kuramochi swallows, and Kazuha swears to every scientific journal that she can see the progress as she turns scarlet, from her ears to her face to her neck, in one fell swoop.
She's doomed, and they're all dead.
"Well, now that we've cleared that up," the pink, busty, not-ghost drawls, smile still intact. "Kindly take your your stomping and shouting somewhere else. There are people trying to get real work done, here."
"Aneki," that second voice comes again, and this time there's a person to go with it. Another pink-haired girl materializes from the dark - exiting a room, probably - and gives her sister(?) an exasperated look.
Kazuha thinks she does, anyways. Does this family just have a sixth sense that lets them see without using their eyes?
Zono is mysteriously quiet behind them, but that might be because he expired from having a heart attack. Kazuha doesn't trust these two to turn around and check on him. Especially since Kuramochi is a useless lesbian right now, and can't be trusted, either.
"The house is big enough for all of us, right?" the second, less curvy, but still pretty cute, girl asks, smiling hopefully before looking at them. "Sorry about that. I'm Kominato Haruhi."
"Miyuki Kazuha," she answers, promptly elbowing Kuramochi to get her to answer. Zono wheezes a noise behind them - good, he's alive - so she gives his name. "Maezono Kenta, back there. Don't mind him, I think you scared the ability to speak out of him."
"Ah - Kuramochi You."
There's an expectant pause, before the older sister sighs the weariest sigh, like this is beneath her. "Ryouko. That wouldn't be the first time I've done that."
"I believe it," Kuramochi murmurs, but she still looks starstruck, so Kazuha takes it with a grain of salt.
"Well, now that that's taken care of!" Kazuha says, grinning, trying to disarm the situation. "How about we go back to work?"
Ryouko looks at her like she's something that she's found on the bottom of one of her pretty heeled boots, smile twitching so that her lip curls a little in disdain. "I would rather we go back to work, and you leave."
Kazuha frowns a little, despite herself. "Didn't your sister just say there was plenty of room?"
"There is," Haruhi confirms, frowning at her sister.
"You're in the way," Ryouko tells them.
"Now, hang on - I'm sure we could help each other out - " Kuramochi begins.
Without missing a beat, Kazuha backhands her square in the boob.
"Ow, fuck! Miyuki, what the hell!?"
"Your input is invalid right now because you've been compromised."
Ryouko huffs, something that was probably a laugh in another life but is probably a death threat in this one, but as she opens her mouth to say something, Haruhi lifts her hand up to quiet everybody.
With a frown, she asks, "Do you hear that?"
The group falls silent, Kuramochi glowering but letting her embarrassed grumbling peter out. Kazuha has no sympathy for her right now, but it's easy enough to forget when she strains to hear what they're supposed to be listening for.
A droning, like the buzz of the power trying to come on, grows louder. It feels distant, almost, until it finally reaches them, and -
The lights flicker on - all of them, probably - and flicker, buzzing louder.
And then the bulbs explode, making everyone jump and move to cover their heads.
The droning continues, relentless.
"Okay," Kazuha decides, "How about we all regroup outside?"
Despite the fact Ryouko looks less than thrilled, an exchanged glance with Haruhi has her relenting. "Fine."
"Oh, thank god," Zono groans, and he's the one leading the way outside, as fast as he can go with heavy equipment and without leaving the group behind.
FILL: team kominato ryousuke/kuramochi youichi, T
mentioned past death, ghosts, cisswap (myk, moch, and kominatos)
or, the ghostbusters au no one asked for, 2643 words
"What the hell."
Kazuha only looks up because of the tone those three words are said in, rather than the speaker that says them. Usually when she hears that incredulous, vaguely furious voice, she knows she's probably about to get a roundhouse kick to the ass if she doesn't tread carefully. Thankfully, she's mastered pushing her luck to get that reaction and then artfully, if verbally, dodging away from getting throttled.
Kuramochi stares at her from the doorway, takeout bag precariously loose in her fingers.
"So," Kazuha begins, pointing her screwdriver down at the bag. "Maybe don't drop that? I'm hungry."
"Miyuki," Kuramochi growls.
Kazuha raises her hand, and the screwdriver, placatingly.
It does not help. The growl continues as she slams the door shut behind her.
Rather than let a rabid roommate get her hands on her work, Kazuha pulls it all into her chest, hovering over it like Kuramochi can't get to any of it. "If it's any consolation, none of these parts are from anything important?"
It's probably because her own food is also in the bag that Kuramochi doesn't slam it down on the table, now that there's space amidst all the chaos of her project. "What the fuck are you even doing? Is that coupler from the microwave?"
"Okay, in my defense, the microwave was dying," Kazuha tells her. "So there's a lot of parts from the microwave in here."
There's a safe moment where the focus is taken off her and put on the food, thankfully. Food tends to make Kuramochi less dangerous. Usually. Sometimes.
So Kazuha relaxes, slowly settling in her seat again as Kuramochi unpacks the food, grumbling under her breath, much of it unsavory things towards Kazuha. Casually, she continues, as she pulls her own food towards herself while Kuramochi digs into hers. "I'm making a ghost trap, by the by."
Kuramochi promptly chokes on her gyoza.
As it turns out, ghost hunting isn't as much of a lucrative business as it'd once been when the government paid occultists to investigate hauntings and the like. It also turns out that it's not very well respected. Shrine workers get respect, but they're a different can of worms that Kazuha's not going to focus on. That's spiritual, not scientific.
But ever since she was a kid, Kazuha's wanted to know about the scientific place of ghosts and spirits and ghouls, because the answer of it's magic just doesn't sit right with her. There's no explanation there, at least not one that satiates her.
So, ghost hunting and the creation of equipment to allow them to study them.
"I don't know how you drag me into these things," Kuramochi bitches, helping her put together a casing for the positron collider she's built out of spare (or stolen, mostly) parts and their dying microwave. Despite her complaints, she's deft with the tools, and has little trouble figuring out exactly what Kazuha is aiming for in her design.
Also, despite appearances, Kuramochi makes modifications to the design that actually make it a little... safer. They'll probably get radiation poisoning still, but at least there's less of a chance of them being blown up while carrying around miniature versions of a Large Electron-Positron Collider that run on nuclear power.
"You're a thrill seeker," Kazuha drawls, banging a piece in where it won't fit. "And like the idea of possibly punching a ghost in the face."
There's a beat where Kuramochi scratches at her shaved sides with the screwdriver, and then returns to screwing the casing in place. "Okay, fair."
"And we'd be famous for proving their existence," Kazuha continues, once she's gotten things mostly together.
Square peg, round hole: zero. Miyuki Kazuha: one.
"And rich," Kuramochi agrees.
When asked about why she went into paranormal investigation, Kazuha frequently dismisses the questions and answers with cheeky, flippant responses. She wants to be rich, she wants to be famous, she wants to prove to the world that she's right, that she wants to explore the unknown and show it to everyone.
The real answer is that she wants to see her mother again. Only one person knows the truth, and she'd like to keep it that way, if she can help it.
She hasn't even told her father about it.
Her mother had passed away peacefully one night, in the hospital after months and months of pain, and it'd been both a relief that it was over and heart wrenching at the same time. Everything was a whirlwind of preparation right after her death, preparations for her wake set in motion only days later. Kazuha was six years old and more than a little unsure of what to do, for once in her life.
But in the midst of the grief, Kazuha had seen her mother one night. She'd woken up, left her room for some asinine reason that she doesn't even remember anymore, and she'd seen her standing over where her father had fallen asleep at the table, letters and condolences and plans scattered around him.
Her mother had looked... sad, but like she'd accepted it. And then she'd looked up at Kazuha, and smiled, and then was gone.
Every night until the wake, and the funeral the day after, Kazuha would leave her room and find the ethereal figure of her mother overlooking their family. Like it was her goodbye.
Word travels through the grapevine until it reaches them. Kazuha stuck her feelers out years ago to find the right connections for information, blackmailing where she had to to get what they needed, and it finally comes in handy one day.
So she and Kuramochi show up on Zono's doorstep one day with a prototype pack and an address.
He takes one look at the two of them - Kazuha's smirk shitty and maybe a little manic, Kuramochi's grin wild and rakish - and moves to close the door.
Kuramochi sticks one of her combat boots in the way, the door simply bouncing off the steel toe, and shoulders inside.
"Oh no," Zono protests anyways, trying to keep Kazuha out especially. "No, no way. You are not taking me on another wild goose chase - "
"You'd be overjoyed if it was a goose chase," Kazuha hums, ducking his grabbing hands and trotting after Kuramochi.
Zono despairs immediately. "No, I'd be overjoyed if you just left me alone - don't touch that, Kuramochi!"
She ignores him, moving one of his antiques off his coffee table to unroll some floor plans across it.
Kazuha pats him on the arm, dropping the pack down with a heavy thump so she can roll and stretch out her shoulder. "We need someone with a car to help us with our gear, and even your tiny ass smart car will do in a pinch."
Kuramochi grunts, a small noise of agreement, marking notes all over the plans. "We got enough weird looks for the pack on the train, and there's no way we can carry the rest - oi, Miyuki, where do you want to set up the thermal detector?"
"Why are neither of you listening to me?" Zono asks, though it sounds rhetorical.
Kazuha answers anyways as she ties her hair up into a bun, looking over Kuramochi's shoulder. "Because you're not about to let us go off and get ourselves killed by doing something stupid."
A pregnant silence falls over them, until Zono eventually sighs, his shoulders sagging, and he comes over to take a look at the plans with them. "I hate you."
"Uhhuh," Kuramochi replies absently.
Kazuha grins, unperturbed. "I know."
Very few people are aware of the fact that Maezono Kenta is actually a gigantic softy. He volunteers at the animal shelter during the weekend, drives an electric smart car that's three sizes too small for him, goes to the farmer's market, and likes to go antiquing.
He's also terrified of ghosts and ghost stories.
Kuramochi was the one to find this out, and delighted in this discovery when she'd made him scream like a girl one night, having blooded herself up and put in a pair of white contacts. Kazuha had recorded it and cackled for almost an hour right there with Kuramochi, until Zono had threatened to throw them in the river. It was a mostly empty threat, although one of these days Kazuha has a feeling that he's going to go through with the promise. At least with her.
This might be the breaking point.
"You just said you'd need help transporting things!" Zono yells into the empty house, carrying the prototype pack on his back. It's a little snug on him, considering it was designed with Kuramochi's broad but still feminine figure in mind, but he's obviously less concerned about that and more about the way the house creaks as it settles.
There's a little sympathy in Kuramochi's face as she looks back at him, but not much. Especially considering she rolls her eyes. "Chill out. Even if something does happen, the ghost's just been rumored to be a troublemaker, not a poltergeist."
"Yet," Kazuha points out.
"Yet," Kuramochi agrees, and then grins at Zono. "So don't scare it with that mug of yours, huh?"
When Zono scowls at her, the entry room is filled with Kuramochi's signature two-note laugh, which echoes into the silence of the rest of the house. Kazuha squints as she shines a flashlight down the hall, like she can see if the laughter summons anything. When nothing comes, she flicks it back off.
"All right, let's scope out the first floor before we head upstairs. Basement is closed off, supposedly, so we'll save breaking into that for last."
"Is that even legal?" Zono asks. "That's probably not legal."
"It's not," Kuramochi and Kazuha answer simultaneously.
"Great."
Kazuha grins at him, clapping her hands together. "Isn't it? C'mon, let's go. Here, Kuramochi - " she tosses the flashlight to her, unsurprised when she catches it. " - you take point, punch a ghost if it gets ornery."
Kuramochi rolls her eyes but turns the flashlight on anyways, moving down the hall. "Chickenshit."
"I don't trust you with the camera," Kazuha simpers. "You left the lens cap on last time."
"One time!" Kuramochi barks back over her shoulder, stomping ahead.
Kazuha and Zono look at each other as she goes; Kazuha shrugs, and Zono glares, before they both follow.
The first floor is largely uneventful, which isn't too surprising. The lights work every now and then, electricity buzzing where they won't turn on, and they just move on from room to room when nothing registers on the meter. Kazuha stares through the camera as they go, looking for any sign of electrical disturbance.
It's as they're turning the corner on the way back to the main room that they get the shit scared out of them, the beam of the flashlight in Kuramochi's hand landing on an ethereal face.
"Holy shit!" she yelps.
Zono covers his mouth to keep from shrieking.
Kazuha fumbles the camera trying to focus on the figure ahead of them.
"You're very loud," the face tells them, scathingly sweet, a dainty hand lifted to shield her eyes from the flashlight being shined directly in her face. "And if there's a spirit here, you've surely annoyed them into leaving. Good job."
"Aneki..." another voice chides, the same sweet sound of it softened when it's not backed by something sharp as a knife.
"And you're not a ghost," Kazuha says, disappointedly lowering the camera. She's about to say more when she gets a look at Kuramochi next to her, flashlight lowered enough to not shine in anyone's eyes. Not that she's sure it matters, because Kazuha can't even see any eyes through those frankly Disney princess length eyelashes, but her attention drops from the newcomer's face to where Kuramochi is looking. And shining the light.
That's one hell of a rack.
A hand enters their field of vision, snapping at them, and they both look up at the same time to see the literally most dangerous smile either of them has witnessed in their entire lives. Kuramochi swallows, and Kazuha swears to every scientific journal that she can see the progress as she turns scarlet, from her ears to her face to her neck, in one fell swoop.
She's doomed, and they're all dead.
"Well, now that we've cleared that up," the pink, busty, not-ghost drawls, smile still intact. "Kindly take your your stomping and shouting somewhere else. There are people trying to get real work done, here."
"Aneki," that second voice comes again, and this time there's a person to go with it. Another pink-haired girl materializes from the dark - exiting a room, probably - and gives her sister(?) an exasperated look.
Kazuha thinks she does, anyways. Does this family just have a sixth sense that lets them see without using their eyes?
Zono is mysteriously quiet behind them, but that might be because he expired from having a heart attack. Kazuha doesn't trust these two to turn around and check on him. Especially since Kuramochi is a useless lesbian right now, and can't be trusted, either.
"The house is big enough for all of us, right?" the second, less curvy, but still pretty cute, girl asks, smiling hopefully before looking at them. "Sorry about that. I'm Kominato Haruhi."
"Miyuki Kazuha," she answers, promptly elbowing Kuramochi to get her to answer. Zono wheezes a noise behind them - good, he's alive - so she gives his name. "Maezono Kenta, back there. Don't mind him, I think you scared the ability to speak out of him."
"Ah - Kuramochi You."
There's an expectant pause, before the older sister sighs the weariest sigh, like this is beneath her. "Ryouko. That wouldn't be the first time I've done that."
"I believe it," Kuramochi murmurs, but she still looks starstruck, so Kazuha takes it with a grain of salt.
"Well, now that that's taken care of!" Kazuha says, grinning, trying to disarm the situation. "How about we go back to work?"
Ryouko looks at her like she's something that she's found on the bottom of one of her pretty heeled boots, smile twitching so that her lip curls a little in disdain. "I would rather we go back to work, and you leave."
"I'd love to," Zono finally speaks up, croaky. Everyone ignores him.
Kazuha frowns a little, despite herself. "Didn't your sister just say there was plenty of room?"
"There is," Haruhi confirms, frowning at her sister.
"You're in the way," Ryouko tells them.
"Now, hang on - I'm sure we could help each other out - " Kuramochi begins.
Without missing a beat, Kazuha backhands her square in the boob.
"Ow, fuck! Miyuki, what the hell!?"
"Your input is invalid right now because you've been compromised."
Ryouko huffs, something that was probably a laugh in another life but is probably a death threat in this one, but as she opens her mouth to say something, Haruhi lifts her hand up to quiet everybody.
With a frown, she asks, "Do you hear that?"
The group falls silent, Kuramochi glowering but letting her embarrassed grumbling peter out. Kazuha has no sympathy for her right now, but it's easy enough to forget when she strains to hear what they're supposed to be listening for.
A droning, like the buzz of the power trying to come on, grows louder. It feels distant, almost, until it finally reaches them, and -
The lights flicker on - all of them, probably - and flicker, buzzing louder.
And then the bulbs explode, making everyone jump and move to cover their heads.
The droning continues, relentless.
"Okay," Kazuha decides, "How about we all regroup outside?"
Despite the fact Ryouko looks less than thrilled, an exchanged glance with Haruhi has her relenting. "Fine."
"Oh, thank god," Zono groans, and he's the one leading the way outside, as fast as he can go with heavy equipment and without leaving the group behind.