Ship: Kazama Jin/Tsukamoto Tsukushi Fandom: DAYS Major Tags: tags omitted Other Tags: tags omitted Word Count: 466 words
This kinda turned into an ensemble piece. Also Ooshiba wanted to take over, egotist that he is.
***
Ooshiba stared at Tsukushi’s hand as if he were holding a live grenade. Or possibly had all his fingers chopped. Or had his fingers chopped AND had a live grenade taped to his hand.
“What,” he said dramatically as he pointed at Tsukushi’s hand, “Is that?!”
“Huh?” Tsukushi looked down at the piece of paper, then held it up so that Ooshi and the others could see. “Oh, it’s just a track & field team flier.”
“You can’t hang it up here!” Ooshiba said. “You can’t recruit soccer team members for track & field! Kazama! Mizuki! Tell him that!”
“I’m not going to hang it up,” Tsukushi said defensively. “They saw me running around the school and wanted to recruit--”
The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a storm of protest. Kazama caught Tsukushi’s hands between his own and said earnestly, eyes glinting, “Tsukushi, I want you to do what’ll make you happy. But you said you want to run with us. We can’t all quit to go running instead.”
“That’s right, brat! You quit the team, who’s going to sub for me when we need to make the crowd hungry for my return?” Ooshiba demanded.
Kimishita scowled at him. “I gave you cleats to play with, not running shoes.”
Mizuki frowned too, leaning against the doorframe. “The team’s used to playing with you. It’s all swoosh whoosh when you’re here.”
There was silence for a second as everyone tried to figure out what exactly ‘swoosh whoosh’ meant and then the babbling broke out again as everyone tried to convince Tsukushi to stay.
“We’ll run with you in the mornings again--” “You won’t like track and field, there’s no ball--” “You can’t score goal either! It’s not a team sport-” “There’s the relay, that’s sort of like a team--” “Shut up, idiot! We want him to stay, not go do relay!”
“IT’S JUST ONE RACE,” Tsukushi shouted, having to raise his voice to be heard. Red in the face from the effort, he panted as everyone looked at him and then said at a more normal volume, “One of their middle distance runners can’t make it to the meet this weekend and they asked me if I could do the 800 meter dash because they think I’ve got the endurance for it.”
There was a general exhale of breath and Kazama suddenly hugged Tsukushi tightly.
“I’ll come cheer you on, Tsukushi,” he promised. He held Tsukushi just a few seconds too long for a private space, then let go so he could push a lock of hair behind ear and smile down at his boyfriend. “Just as long as you aren’t leaving.”
“I could never leave the team,” Tsukushi said earnestly and what he meant (what Kazama heard) was I could never leave you.
FILL: Team The Prince of Tennis, T
Fandom: DAYS
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Word Count: 466 words
This kinda turned into an ensemble piece. Also Ooshiba wanted to take over, egotist that he is.
***
Ooshiba stared at Tsukushi’s hand as if he were holding a live grenade. Or possibly had all his fingers chopped. Or had his fingers chopped AND had a live grenade taped to his hand.
“What,” he said dramatically as he pointed at Tsukushi’s hand, “Is that?!”
“Huh?” Tsukushi looked down at the piece of paper, then held it up so that Ooshi and the others could see. “Oh, it’s just a track & field team flier.”
“You can’t hang it up here!” Ooshiba said. “You can’t recruit soccer team members for track & field! Kazama! Mizuki! Tell him that!”
“I’m not going to hang it up,” Tsukushi said defensively. “They saw me running around the school and wanted to recruit--”
The rest of his sentence was drowned out by a storm of protest. Kazama caught Tsukushi’s hands between his own and said earnestly, eyes glinting, “Tsukushi, I want you to do what’ll make you happy. But you said you want to run with us. We can’t all quit to go running instead.”
“That’s right, brat! You quit the team, who’s going to sub for me when we need to make the crowd hungry for my return?” Ooshiba demanded.
Kimishita scowled at him. “I gave you cleats to play with, not running shoes.”
Mizuki frowned too, leaning against the doorframe. “The team’s used to playing with you. It’s all swoosh whoosh when you’re here.”
There was silence for a second as everyone tried to figure out what exactly ‘swoosh whoosh’ meant and then the babbling broke out again as everyone tried to convince Tsukushi to stay.
“We’ll run with you in the mornings again--”
“You won’t like track and field, there’s no ball--”
“You can’t score goal either! It’s not a team sport-”
“There’s the relay, that’s sort of like a team--”
“Shut up, idiot! We want him to stay, not go do relay!”
“IT’S JUST ONE RACE,” Tsukushi shouted, having to raise his voice to be heard. Red in the face from the effort, he panted as everyone looked at him and then said at a more normal volume, “One of their middle distance runners can’t make it to the meet this weekend and they asked me if I could do the 800 meter dash because they think I’ve got the endurance for it.”
There was a general exhale of breath and Kazama suddenly hugged Tsukushi tightly.
“I’ll come cheer you on, Tsukushi,” he promised. He held Tsukushi just a few seconds too long for a private space, then let go so he could push a lock of hair behind ear and smile down at his boyfriend. “Just as long as you aren’t leaving.”
“I could never leave the team,” Tsukushi said earnestly and what he meant (what Kazama heard) was I could never leave you.