The sun beats down overhead, and Tsutomu wipes the sweat that has collected on his brow, underneath the neat but of his bangs, with the back of his hand. In front of him, Ushijima concerns himself with musing on and on about the plants, and how to tend to them, when to set the sprinklers so they'll be watered, how to tell for signs of misgrowth or disease, when they're good for harvest, and on and on. It seems that in all topics but those of things which sprout from the earth, Ushijima was taciturn and didn't have very much to say at all. But once he's gotten started on the topic of plants and farming and all things nature--well, then he was a rather unstoppable force.
Tsutomu doesn't bother paying attention. He already knows all these things; it's what he's spent the past year of his life training for, after all. Out of all the farmlands surrounding the Shiratorizawa village area, Ushijima's is by far the best, most abundant, most fruitful farm and nursery. And it just so happened that they had been short a farmhand, after the last one--a man Tsutomu had never met, but had heard rumors that it had taken Ushijima years to convince him to come to Shiratorizawa at all--finally left in a rage, fed up with everything at last.
And he'd been quick on the uptake--he's had his eye on Ushijima's farm for ages now, and this was the perfect opportunity for him to make his strike. He was going to slither into the mouth of the lion, get the lion to trust him, and then, before Ushijima knew what hit him, Tsutomu would take the title of the greatest farmer in the prefecture, right out from beneath Ushijima's rather noble-looking nose.
"Hey," Ushijima interrupts, his low voice sounding perhaps stern, if not for the fact that he uses the same tone for practically every thing that comes out of his mouth. "Are you paying attention?"
"Yes, of course," Tsutomu answers quickly, snapping to attention. "Don't worry, know everything already. I'm going to be the greatest farmer in the prefecture someday, you see," he continues, meeting Ushijima's stare from above eye for eye. "Even better than you!"
Ushijima evaluates him, and the set of his brows is angry, the corners of his mouth downturned. But that is his default expression, Tsutomu thinks, so he's difficult to tell whether or not he is actually angry. Tsutomu doesn't care--he's nothing if not honest and earnest and he's not going to lie about his ambitions in the face of the one he hopes to overcome.
"I see," Ushijima says finally after a moment of deliberation, uncrossing his arms. Tsutomu's eyes flick downwards, noticing the shiny stretch of well-toned muscle across his thick forearms, sweaty in the mid-morning sun. Ushijima turns then, and Tsutomu's attention shifts to the snug fit of Ushijima's shirt across those broad, broad shoulders.
Well, aside from the opportunity to defeat Ushijima, this was a plus of the job as well.
"Anyways," Ushijima goes on, bending down to display some of the uncultivated land that needed to be worked on, "your job here is to..."
Tsutomu tunes him out, honestly. He goes back to daydreaming, and sneaking glances at the rippling muscles of Ushijima's arms every so often.
Ushijima impresses upon him one single rule:
"Do not touch my personal garden. That is mine. Please do not touch it."
Tsutomu smiles and nods complacently. And then Ushihima finally leaves him to handle things around the farm while he goes off in his tractor to survey the field of sweet corn on the west side of the farm.
It doesn't matter, anyways; Tsutomu's already switched out all his cucumbers with summer squash. He grins wickedly, pleased at having condemned Ushijima to slightly-off tasting recipes for a while. Truly, he's outdone himself this time.
Come dusk, Tsutomu's done all he can around the farm, and Ushijima has returned to the farmhouse for the night. As Tsutomu's leaving, he calls out to him.
"Goshiki. Wait."
For a moment, Tsutomu thinks he's been caught. Well, it was only a matter of time, probably. It's impossible to trick the Ushijima Wakatoshi when it comes to all things plants, after all.
"I was pleased with your work today. You are a satisfactory farmhand."
"Well, of course I am," Tsutomu says, turning his nose up and flicking some hair away from his eyes. "I'd have to be, if I'm going to defeat you some day."
"I see. Would you like to stay for dinner? I am making some of the vegetables from my garden."
Tsutomu stops, looks back at Ushijima from over his shoulder. He's standing there on the porch, still wearing his work clothes and his scuffed up, muddy boots and his pants are grass-stained and worn. And in the waning, light, he looks possibly even more handsome than he had earlier, under the bright sunlight.
Tsutomu finds himself agreeing happily; after all, summer squash is his favorite.
FILL: TEAM IWAIZUMI HAJIME/OIKAWA TOORU, G
838 words
honestly idk
The sun beats down overhead, and Tsutomu wipes the sweat that has collected on his brow, underneath the neat but of his bangs, with the back of his hand. In front of him, Ushijima concerns himself with musing on and on about the plants, and how to tend to them, when to set the sprinklers so they'll be watered, how to tell for signs of misgrowth or disease, when they're good for harvest, and on and on. It seems that in all topics but those of things which sprout from the earth, Ushijima was taciturn and didn't have very much to say at all. But once he's gotten started on the topic of plants and farming and all things nature--well, then he was a rather unstoppable force.
Tsutomu doesn't bother paying attention. He already knows all these things; it's what he's spent the past year of his life training for, after all. Out of all the farmlands surrounding the Shiratorizawa village area, Ushijima's is by far the best, most abundant, most fruitful farm and nursery. And it just so happened that they had been short a farmhand, after the last one--a man Tsutomu had never met, but had heard rumors that it had taken Ushijima years to convince him to come to Shiratorizawa at all--finally left in a rage, fed up with everything at last.
And he'd been quick on the uptake--he's had his eye on Ushijima's farm for ages now, and this was the perfect opportunity for him to make his strike. He was going to slither into the mouth of the lion, get the lion to trust him, and then, before Ushijima knew what hit him, Tsutomu would take the title of the greatest farmer in the prefecture, right out from beneath Ushijima's rather noble-looking nose.
"Hey," Ushijima interrupts, his low voice sounding perhaps stern, if not for the fact that he uses the same tone for practically every thing that comes out of his mouth. "Are you paying attention?"
"Yes, of course," Tsutomu answers quickly, snapping to attention. "Don't worry, know everything already. I'm going to be the greatest farmer in the prefecture someday, you see," he continues, meeting Ushijima's stare from above eye for eye. "Even better than you!"
Ushijima evaluates him, and the set of his brows is angry, the corners of his mouth downturned. But that is his default expression, Tsutomu thinks, so he's difficult to tell whether or not he is actually angry. Tsutomu doesn't care--he's nothing if not honest and earnest and he's not going to lie about his ambitions in the face of the one he hopes to overcome.
"I see," Ushijima says finally after a moment of deliberation, uncrossing his arms. Tsutomu's eyes flick downwards, noticing the shiny stretch of well-toned muscle across his thick forearms, sweaty in the mid-morning sun. Ushijima turns then, and Tsutomu's attention shifts to the snug fit of Ushijima's shirt across those broad, broad shoulders.
Well, aside from the opportunity to defeat Ushijima, this was a plus of the job as well.
"Anyways," Ushijima goes on, bending down to display some of the uncultivated land that needed to be worked on, "your job here is to..."
Tsutomu tunes him out, honestly. He goes back to daydreaming, and sneaking glances at the rippling muscles of Ushijima's arms every so often.
Ushijima impresses upon him one single rule:
"Do not touch my personal garden. That is mine. Please do not touch it."
Tsutomu smiles and nods complacently. And then Ushihima finally leaves him to handle things around the farm while he goes off in his tractor to survey the field of sweet corn on the west side of the farm.
It doesn't matter, anyways; Tsutomu's already switched out all his cucumbers with summer squash. He grins wickedly, pleased at having condemned Ushijima to slightly-off tasting recipes for a while. Truly, he's outdone himself this time.
Come dusk, Tsutomu's done all he can around the farm, and Ushijima has returned to the farmhouse for the night. As Tsutomu's leaving, he calls out to him.
"Goshiki. Wait."
For a moment, Tsutomu thinks he's been caught. Well, it was only a matter of time, probably. It's impossible to trick the Ushijima Wakatoshi when it comes to all things plants, after all.
"I was pleased with your work today. You are a satisfactory farmhand."
"Well, of course I am," Tsutomu says, turning his nose up and flicking some hair away from his eyes. "I'd have to be, if I'm going to defeat you some day."
"I see. Would you like to stay for dinner? I am making some of the vegetables from my garden."
Tsutomu stops, looks back at Ushijima from over his shoulder. He's standing there on the porch, still wearing his work clothes and his scuffed up, muddy boots and his pants are grass-stained and worn. And in the waning, light, he looks possibly even more handsome than he had earlier, under the bright sunlight.
Tsutomu finds himself agreeing happily; after all, summer squash is his favorite.