Ship: Makishima & Naruko Fandom: Yowamushi Pedal Major Tags: tags omitted Other Tags: tags omitted Word Count: 451 words
***
[You’re sure you want to be the one to pick me up?] Makishima typed, only half-paying attention to the chat box. Chat was far easier than voice calls for him; awkward pauses were the norm, he could be quiet if he didn’t feel like talking and if he was multi-tasking, nobody had to know about it.
Right now, he had on the latest episode of Love Hime and was chatting with the whole Sohaku group. Onoda had somehow managed to institute a tradition where nobody watched the latest episode until Saturday when they all had to show up online to Onoda’s rabbit room and watch it together. Some of them used voice call, some of them chatted, but everyone showed up. It was either that or risk Onoda calling and being concerned about what could have possibly made you miss the weekly viewing session.
Makishima supposed it was good for team cohesion but really, given that he wasn’t even part of the team anymore, did he have to be there?
(Kinjou was. Tadaroko was. Makishima couldn’t be the only one who was missing.)
“Of course, senpai!” Naruko said loudly. He always used the voice chat option, even if it meant sometimes his voice drowned out the show. “I’ll be there and I’ll wear something you can recognize me!”
Makishima arched his eyebrows at the screen, knowing full well that Naruko couldn’t see it, and typed swiftly: [It’s only been a year. You couldn’t have changed that much.]
With his bright shock of red hair, Naruko would stand out absolutely anywhere - except perhaps an anime convention.
“I’ve gotten taller!” Naruko crowed proudly. Makishima could picture how Naruko had puffed himself up as he said that.
[Wouldn’t that make you easier to spot?] Makishima typed.
“Never mind, senpai! I’ll be sure to be recognizable!”
*
The flight had been exhausting and the prospect of taking a train home on top of the bus from the airport wasn’t a pleasant one. Makishima knew that nobody could meet him at the airport at such an early hour but by the time he made it to the train station, it was nearly 9AM.
He looked around for Naruko’s red hair, squinting slightly against the morning sunlight.
There! There was -- his shirt. His green and yellow striped shirt with the fashionably clashing blue sleeve.
Huh. It appeared the shrimp had learnt the importance of dressing well while Makishima was gone.
Makishima raised his hand and gave a languid wave to catch Naruko’s attention, suppressing an amused smile at the sight of Naruko in his clothes. Naruko might take it the wrong way and as his senpai, Makishima should encourage his forays into the world of couture.
FILL: Team The Prince of Tennis, T
Fandom: Yowamushi Pedal
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 451 words
***
[You’re sure you want to be the one to pick me up?] Makishima typed, only half-paying attention to the chat box. Chat was far easier than voice calls for him; awkward pauses were the norm, he could be quiet if he didn’t feel like talking and if he was multi-tasking, nobody had to know about it.
Right now, he had on the latest episode of Love Hime and was chatting with the whole Sohaku group. Onoda had somehow managed to institute a tradition where nobody watched the latest episode until Saturday when they all had to show up online to Onoda’s rabbit room and watch it together. Some of them used voice call, some of them chatted, but everyone showed up. It was either that or risk Onoda calling and being concerned about what could have possibly made you miss the weekly viewing session.
Makishima supposed it was good for team cohesion but really, given that he wasn’t even part of the team anymore, did he have to be there?
(Kinjou was. Tadaroko was. Makishima couldn’t be the only one who was missing.)
“Of course, senpai!” Naruko said loudly. He always used the voice chat option, even if it meant sometimes his voice drowned out the show. “I’ll be there and I’ll wear something you can recognize me!”
Makishima arched his eyebrows at the screen, knowing full well that Naruko couldn’t see it, and typed swiftly: [It’s only been a year. You couldn’t have changed that much.]
With his bright shock of red hair, Naruko would stand out absolutely anywhere - except perhaps an anime convention.
“I’ve gotten taller!” Naruko crowed proudly. Makishima could picture how Naruko had puffed himself up as he said that.
[Wouldn’t that make you easier to spot?] Makishima typed.
“Never mind, senpai! I’ll be sure to be recognizable!”
*
The flight had been exhausting and the prospect of taking a train home on top of the bus from the airport wasn’t a pleasant one. Makishima knew that nobody could meet him at the airport at such an early hour but by the time he made it to the train station, it was nearly 9AM.
He looked around for Naruko’s red hair, squinting slightly against the morning sunlight.
There! There was -- his shirt. His green and yellow striped shirt with the fashionably clashing blue sleeve.
Huh. It appeared the shrimp had learnt the importance of dressing well while Makishima was gone.
Makishima raised his hand and gave a languid wave to catch Naruko’s attention, suppressing an amused smile at the sight of Naruko in his clothes. Naruko might take it the wrong way and as his senpai, Makishima should encourage his forays into the world of couture.