no major content warnings additional tags: d... death mention? family mention. word count: 487 I basically Had To Write This, it completes a set with my other fills so nicely. I hope it's silly enough.
Naruko couldn’t see the way Kinjou’s broke when they first brought him into the med tent. But when they first brought him into the med tent, Naruko couldn’t see shit.
Kinjou sat himself down near Naruko’s head in quiet contemplation. His polarized sport shades were useless in the darkness of the tent, but without prescription lenses the world went fuzzy around him. He was able to monitor Naruko’s limp, dehydrated form better from a spot close enough for him to distinguish his blurred facial features from one another. Kinjou got the chance to fret over the state of the team and mourn what he assumed were Naruko’s broken dreams (hadn’t he overheard the first years make some bizarre pact to cross the finish line together? They knew nothing of harsh realities, but he admired them all the more for their childish goals) for all of three minutes, before Naruko began to talk.
“Captain Shades,” Naruko mumbles. Kinjou whipped his head around. Naruko’s eyes were still covered with a wet cloth.
“If it’s you, this must really be… the end.” Was he delirious?
“Tell mom and dad I love them. And Sakura and Kyou…” and Kinjou couldn’t hear as Naruko listed off the names of his remaining siblings. He leaned in to try to catch the soft humming of the words that couldn’t quite manage to leave Naruko’s lips.
“Naruko, listen…” he began.
“Just you and me now, huh, Captain beefcake,” Naruko said, with renewed articulation.
“What did you call me? Anyway, Naruko, we’re not dead.”
“I wish you could have seen it, at least,” he continued, blatantly ignoring Kinjou. “I was… so cool.”
At that, Kinjou smiled fondly. “I don’t doubt it one bit.”
“I know hotshot and Onoda were your favorites,” Naruko plowed on, oblivious. “Go figure when I do something cool, you’re not around to watch it.”
Woah woah, what? Kinjou thought. Had he been playing favorites that badly? Imaizumi and Onoda were just the kind of people who needed more gentle nudging and he’d thought- Naruko didn’t react well to authority- Tadokoro had it taken care of—
“I never got the chance,” Naruko muttered, “you would have been so impressed if you were there, Captain gorgeous,” and Kinjou’s heart broke a little more. This kid had just been trying to impress him. He didn’t even register the new nickname.
“With your big pretty eyes and your… sunglasses… back muscles,” Naruko started to lose coherence again. A single tear (or more likely sweat, but Kinjou was in a sentimental mood, and recovering from heat exhaustion himself) slid down the side of Naruko’s face, from under the damp towelette that covered his eyes.
Kinjou leaned in, even though he doubted Naruko would be able to hear him. “Listen, Shoukichi-kun,” he said. “I already admire your drive so much. Never give up.” Kinjou sat up again, straightening his back. “Also, like I said, it’s not over yet.”
FILL: TEAM Aoyagi Hajime/Izumida Touichirou, G
additional tags: d... death mention? family mention.
word count: 487
I basically Had To Write This, it completes a set with my other fills so nicely. I hope it's silly enough.
Naruko couldn’t see the way Kinjou’s broke when they first brought him into the med tent. But when they first brought him into the med tent, Naruko couldn’t see shit.
Kinjou sat himself down near Naruko’s head in quiet contemplation. His polarized sport shades were useless in the darkness of the tent, but without prescription lenses the world went fuzzy around him. He was able to monitor Naruko’s limp, dehydrated form better from a spot close enough for him to distinguish his blurred facial features from one another. Kinjou got the chance to fret over the state of the team and mourn what he assumed were Naruko’s broken dreams (hadn’t he overheard the first years make some bizarre pact to cross the finish line together? They knew nothing of harsh realities, but he admired them all the more for their childish goals) for all of three minutes, before Naruko began to talk.
“Captain Shades,” Naruko mumbles. Kinjou whipped his head around. Naruko’s eyes were still covered with a wet cloth.
“If it’s you, this must really be… the end.” Was he delirious?
“Tell mom and dad I love them. And Sakura and Kyou…” and Kinjou couldn’t hear as Naruko listed off the names of his remaining siblings. He leaned in to try to catch the soft humming of the words that couldn’t quite manage to leave Naruko’s lips.
“Naruko, listen…” he began.
“Just you and me now, huh, Captain beefcake,” Naruko said, with renewed articulation.
“What did you call me? Anyway, Naruko, we’re not dead.”
“I wish you could have seen it, at least,” he continued, blatantly ignoring Kinjou. “I was… so cool.”
At that, Kinjou smiled fondly. “I don’t doubt it one bit.”
“I know hotshot and Onoda were your favorites,” Naruko plowed on, oblivious. “Go figure when I do something cool, you’re not around to watch it.”
Woah woah, what? Kinjou thought. Had he been playing favorites that badly? Imaizumi and Onoda were just the kind of people who needed more gentle nudging and he’d thought- Naruko didn’t react well to authority- Tadokoro had it taken care of—
“I never got the chance,” Naruko muttered, “you would have been so impressed if you were there, Captain gorgeous,” and Kinjou’s heart broke a little more. This kid had just been trying to impress him. He didn’t even register the new nickname.
“With your big pretty eyes and your… sunglasses… back muscles,” Naruko started to lose coherence again. A single tear (or more likely sweat, but Kinjou was in a sentimental mood, and recovering from heat exhaustion himself) slid down the side of Naruko’s face, from under the damp towelette that covered his eyes.
Kinjou leaned in, even though he doubted Naruko would be able to hear him. “Listen, Shoukichi-kun,” he said. “I already admire your drive so much. Never give up.” Kinjou sat up again, straightening his back. “Also, like I said, it’s not over yet.”