[nospaces]
[div][attr="class","sum-wrapper"][div][attr="class","sum-head"]
[div][attr="class","sum-title"]prompt #[/div][div][attr="class","sum-sub"]title of prompt[/div]
[/div]
[div][attr="class","sum-desc-box"][div][attr="class","sum-desc-text"]
 [p]when two brats meet— it's either a disaster or a success. regardless, it'll certainly be a story to tell.[/p]
[/div][/div]

[div][attr="class","sum-notes-box"]
[p]we went in droves to the city across the ocean. and when we arrived, we found nothing except our sadness.[/p]
[h1]opening[break]
notes[/h1][/div]
 
   [div][attr="class","sum-content"]
       
       [p]finally we're here, you had said so excitedly.[/p]
       [p][i]yes, finally we're all here, but... they're not.[/i][/p]
       
   [/div]
 
[div][attr="class","sum-notes-box"]
   [p]and that too was okay, because we had finally learned to accept it.[/p]
[h1]closing[break]
notes[/h1][/div][/div]

[newclass=".sum-wrapper"]--sum2019color: #ffad2b; --sum2019open: 0px; --sum2019close: 0px; width: 550px;margin: 15px auto;border: #efefef solid 1.4px;outline: 4px #fff solid;box-shadow: 0 0 16px #ccc;[/newclass]
[newclass=".sum-wrapper p"]margin: 18.5px; position: relative; z-index: 1;[/newclass]

[newclass=".sum-head"]width: 550px;height: 120px;background: #f1f1f1;position: relative;[/newclass]

[newclass=".sum-title"]font: 50px 'Roboto';text-transform: uppercase;font-weight: bold;color: var(--sum2019color);background: -webkit-linear-gradient(90deg, var(--sum2019color) 67%, #000000 67%);-webkit-background-clip: text;-webkit-text-fill-color: transparent;position: relative;left: 40px;top: 46px;[/newclass]
[newclass=".sum-title:before"]content: 'a';height: 36px;width: 10px;position: absolute;left: -19px;top: 12px;background: -webkit-linear-gradient(90deg, var(--sum2019color) 67%, #000000 67%);-webkit-background-clip: text;-webkit-text-fill-color: transparent;[/newclass]

[newclass=".sum-sub"]font: 24px 'Roboto';text-transform: lowercase;color: var(--sum2019color);background: -webkit-linear-gradient(-90deg, var(--sum2019color) 66%, #000000 66%);-webkit-background-clip: text;-webkit-text-fill-color: transparent;position: absolute;left: 21px;bottom: 0px;[/newclass]

[newclass=".sum-desc-box"]border-bottom: 6px solid;border-image: linear-gradient(to right, var(--sum2019color) 72%, #000000 72%) 1;width: 550px;background: #f1f1f1;padding: 15px 55px 15px 43px;position: relative;box-sizing: border-box;[/newclass]
[newclass=".sum-desc-text"]border-left: 1px solid;padding-left: 11px;font: 15.5px 'Pontano Sans', sans-serif;text-align: justify;border-image: linear-gradient(0deg, #00000000, var(--sum2019color) 23%, var(--sum2019color) 50%, #000000 50%, #000000 77%, #00000000) 1;[/newclass]

[newclass=".sum-notes-box"]background: #3a3a3a;padding: 15px;position: relative;color: #9a9a9a;font: 15px 'Source Code Pro';overflow: hidden;[/newclass]
[newclass=".sum-notes-box p"]margin: 0px; position: relative; z-index: 1;[/newclass]
[newclass=".sum-notes-box h1"]font: 45px 'Roboto';text-transform: uppercase;font-weight: bold;color: #454545;position: absolute;top: 15px;right: 15px;text-align: right;line-height: 75%;[/newclass]

[newclass=".sum-content"]padding: 11.5px 30px;border: 13px solid #3a3a3a;border-top: var(--sum2019open) #3a3a3a solid;border-bottom: var(--sum2019close) #3a3a3a solid;box-sizing: border-box;background: #fcfcfc;line-height: 145%;[/newclass]

im a fanfic writer so fanfic it is for my first prompt pft. but anyway yes, saizō and kamanosuke are two characters from brave 10, which you really don't need to know too much about since this is a modern au fic.

opening[break]
notes

It's 2:42 AM when Saizō learns of the city-wide blackout. His phone goes off a minute before 2:40, all ping, ping, ping! It wakes him up. Needless to say, he's not particularly happy when he slides the phone open ( he had removed notification banners from appearing on his lock-screen after a certain, nosy red-head blew Saizō's head off about not including him in the exclusive, "non-kamanosuke chat" ) and sees a red bubble next to the messaging app that says "22." Seriously, what the fuck. He taps ( smashes, would be more appropriate ) the indigo and white icon.

He almost chucks the damn thing when he sees the sender.

At 2:39 AM, twenty-two messages were sent subsequently by none other than the second-most annoying person in existence—Kamanosuke Yuri. What an ill-befitting last name. Lily, his ass.

They're mostly composed of only-pronounceable-if-you-really-try, all caps words, with his name repeated a few times just in case he didn't understand the messages were for him. ( also a shit ton of cursing, because again— "yuri" is an incredibly ironic last name. )

He texts back—

(2:40) basically ffxv noctis: You are the literal devil what the fuck are you freaking about Kamanosuke

Not even a minute later, Kamanosuke ( probably fueled on coffee because someone introduced it to him and the damn idiot immediately developed an addiction ) sends—

(2:41) prettierthanthatbitch: HOW HAVE YOU NOT NOTICED!??????????? IT'S ALL DARK!!!!

prettierthanthatbitch:
My lights all suddenly turned off. And my computers dead and the charger isn't working

prettierthanthatbitch:
I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF WINNING AGAINST THIS STUPID SMUG FUCKING CHILD DAMMIT

(2:42) prettierthanthatbitch: Saizo can i go over? Im rlly rlly bored. There's nothing to do :(

It's 2:41 AM when Saizō decides he's about done with Kamanosuke Yuri. He's completely done only a minute later. Why Kamanosuke is up at almost three-fucking in the morning is beyond him ( a lie— coffee is why ), but the thoughtless brat couldn't even consider that even if he didn't value sleep, other people did?! But of course, someone as selfish as Kamanosuke probably wouldn't care even if he did think about it.

(2:42) basically ffxv noctis: Be bored by yourself I'm trying to sleep.

(2:43) prettierthanthatbitch: God saizo why r u so mean to me. I'm not the one who killed ur dog

(2:44) basically ffxv noctis: That's not as funny as you seem to think

(2:45) basically ffxv noctis: You should just go to sleep honestly

(2:45) prettierthanthatbitch: But like that's the thing. I can't

prettierthanthatbitch:
I'm completely hyped up on coffee

prettierthanthatbitch:
Please

(2:46) basically ffxv noctis: I said you would regret drinking so much coffee

prettierthanthatbitch:
Ugggggh

prettierthanthatbitch:
Yeah i know u did but now I can't sleep and I don't have anything to do

(2:47) prettierthanthatbitch: Saizo

prettierthanthatbitch:
I know you're mad at me but think about it

prettierthanthatbitch:
It could be a sleep over

(2:48) basically ffxv noctis: No

prettierthanthatbitch:
But we used to have sleepovers all the time

(2:49) basically ffxv noctis: Yeah and I literally never slept a wink whenever you were over

prettierthanthatbitch:
Fine I'll sleep if u let me come over

(2:50) basically ffxv noctis: No you won't

basically ffxv noctis: Anyway I'm putting my phone on mute and going back to sleep

(2:51) prettierthanthatbitch: DONT U FUCKING DARE

basically ffxv noctis: Don't bother texting me because I won't see it

He tosses his phone onto the floor. He is sure Kamanosuke is furiously typing a fuming response, but he's too tired to care. It's unbelievable that Kamanosuke would wake him up with twenty-two pings and then ask to spend the night over at Saizō's house. His impudence never ceases to piss Saizō off, and he's not sure if he can even sleep anymore. Thanks, Kamanosuke.

He closes his eyes regardless, in the hope that if he shuts his eyes long enough, he might fall back asleep. ( it would be hypocritical of him to tell kamanosuke to shut his caffeine-rigged mind off if he doesn't do the same— )

… ba-thump.

Ba-thump. Ba-thump. Ba-thump.

A con-stant rhy-thm—

Loud and fast—

One sheep, two sheep, three sheep, four sheep—

Nu-mer-ical sheep, des-perate sheep, count-ing sheep, clop-ping sheep. Anything to focus his mind— that doesn't sound right. He thinks for a moment. It's not "focus," since that would make his mind more active. Then— to narrow— to limit his mind?

Oh for fuck's sake.

His eyes open, and he flings his body up.

"This is just too annoying," he mutters as he slips out of bed and retrieves his phone from the floor.

(2:59) basically ffxv noctis: Fine

Maybe it's the sudden shortage of sleep that makes him send a text to Kamanosuke instead of making some sleepy tea. In the back of his mind, he knows he'll regret it in the morning when he can barely function because Kamanosuke is a tiny, hyper Chihuahua on a caffeine high who doesn't understand the word "sleep."

(3:00) prettierthanthatbitch: Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!!!!

prettierthanthatbitch:
Ilu. Ill be there in like a few

Saizō sighs. He wonders if he could get Kamanosuke to bring some coffee with him.

( —and he's a hypocrite through and through. )

ahem yes i know catch 22 doesn't exactly fit the fic BUT LOOK i didn't know what else to call it so

closing[break]
notes

there was literally no way else this prompt was gonna turn out. "fire and ice"— mind immediately jumps to twewy. So yes, The World Ends With You spoilers ahead!

opening[break]
notes

neku is a fire—

Lively and passionate. He's a flame that everyone draws toward. Not like moths that seek light obsessively— like cavemen that seek

life

obsessively.

He'll burn this world; he's a wild forest fire.

( he's a lovely, flickering fire, casting its light and creating shadows. )

He leaves something stronger and

better

in his wake.

His flames aren't heaven-sent, and they aren't demonic either. They infiltrate your skin and burn you inside-out, and god it hurts. It was never asked for— hell, it wasn't even wanted. But here Joshua is—

Here he is.

the world began with you, neku.

joshua is like ice—

Frigid and fucking cold.

Seriously, who decides they're bored of life and decides to snap his fingers, or whatever the hell composers do to bring about the end of an entire goddamn city?

He's insensitive to life like no one else ever was, and so many times over messed up in the brain.

He's also as slippery as ice. Try to hold onto him for any meaningful amounts of time, and he'll just melt from your fingertips.

What was it all for, anyway?

Even now, you can't really see it, huh?

it's a beautiful world, joshua.

un... I love these too so much, but it feels like I'm playing in the dark when I'm writing them. but eventually I'll get my characterization of these two down!

closing[break]
notes

my third prompt done! uhh, my mind kinda latched onto the words but kinda threw the idea out into the recycling post oops. anyway, this is from epic seven. not really any spoilers for the main plot

opening[break]
notes

Tenebria thinks of Ravi as a mostly empty-brained little girl. She's a wild, golden-streaked bird that deludes itself bigger and tougher than it really is, and so desperate for Tenebria's attention that manipulating the little wraith is horribly easy. It's dull is what it is. But occasionally, Ravi surprises her with subtle motions and quiet words that hint something else on her mind besides her obsession over some 'chosen one' nonsense that causes her to run pleading to impress her Queen.

...It doesn't make sense to Tenebria, but they don't last long and they're usually minuscule things. It's not something that would bother— should bother— her.

'It does though,' she reflects as she observes the distant look in her little subject's eyes.

She stands next to the young wraith and looks upon a ruined house with a barn and a few fields surrounding it. Part of a fence still remains, but most of it is broken and splintered. A sweet smile spreads onto her face.

"Do you miss your family, dear?" she asks, unsure herself if it's mocking or genuine. She doesn't know whether to be impressed or concerned that she's become so good at manipulating others that she can hardly tell the difference between her fake and real tones. ( or perhaps there wasn't a difference to begin with. )

After Ravi remains silent, Tenebria continues prodding, "Would you like to see your family again?"

As though the suggestion crosses some sort of invisible line that the wraith dare not cross, its mention recalls Ravi back from her reverie. Tenebria watches as Ravi slowly recovers, antsy-ness beginning to gnaw every moment those red, aggressive eyes remain wandering elsewhere.

"I— no, my Queen," she finally says.

Ravi tilts her head slightly toward Tenebria. A half-smile of sorts graces her lips ( it's almost flatters tenebria if not for the fact that she's just a homunculus experiment so it doesn't matter anyway ) as she swings her axe back over her shoulder.

"They don't matter to me anymore."

The flickering flames burning what remains of the old farm bring a twisted sense of satisfaction to Tenebria as she watches the last of little farm girl Ravi die.

( and if ravi's smile seems sad as they walk away, tenebria doesn't say anything— not to the wraith with more emotions than she should have, or to the calculating acolyte who would dispose of her if he thought of her as a potential loose-end. )

i have so many feels about these two uwu. i love them so much but also tenebria how can you be so cruel???? anyway though, the rare og universe fic from me. idk if i'll do something like this again tho. esp for these two, their situation makes it kinda hard for any of the fLUFF i live for.

closing[break]
notes

helix waltz this time.

as per usual, i've taken the words to heart but thrown the actual idea out the window

opening[break]
notes

Her feet ache, and her leg muscles died a long time ago. Heels are horrid.

( "heels are necessary though. don't complain, lift your chin up, and bear the pain for the sake of the ellenstein name that has provided for you your entire life." )

She's heard the same words repeated over and over, and she's increasingly growing sick of them. Even so, for the mother she loves ( not for the name that is her mother's pride and joy ), she'll place a hand to her chest to settle the agitated sensation ever-rising in her thin, tired body.

( "but can i not ever have a break?" )

A sad smile graces this elegant lady's face ( even in the privacy of her own room, her smile must be subtle and beautiful ). For this mysterious benefactor of hers ( of her mother's ) that expects so much from her, she cannot rest.

( "your days of frivolity are over. it is time to repay the kindness i have given you." )

Indeed, the lazy days of the past are over.

...what "lazy days" of the past?

the pov's name is magda btw and she goes through way too much on a daily basis sfsfsf

closing[break]
notes

hAH what's this about 'posting prompts daily'? i don't even know what you're talking about. "posting daily." pft, from me? as if!

[break][break]another brave 10 as per usual. this one's part of an au series thing i'm doing, but it doesn't really need any context besides the fact that it's actually canon that kamanosuke hates sweets and wtf how

opening[break]
notes

It started with an offhand remark from Kamanosuke.

"I don't like sweet things," he had said with a shrug to the piece of chocolate offered to him. He turned his nose upward to express his point.

He watched in fascination as Saizō's eyes dilated. The subtle way his jaw quivered up and down ( was it that shocking? ) was more concerning, but he didn't comment. Saizō would have denied it if he inquired anyway. Instead, he turned his head away and continued pawing at a can of peanut butter. He licked his lips in frustration as he tried to pry the damn thing open.

He didn't think about his previous comment when Saizō left that evening to "pick up some groceries." He didn't think there was anything special about his distaste for sweets. He knew he wasn't the only person in the world who didn't like caramels or the taste of chocolate. He just discriminated against all sweets. And some fruits, since those could sometimes be too sweet. ( that's why he always picked out the green-tinged bananas— they were less sweet on his tongue. )

So when Saizō came home with a bag full of sweets an hour later, Kamanosuke eyed him with suspicion. He asked in a pointed tone, "Aren't you going to get diabetes from all that sugar?"

He watched from the bed as Saizō placed the bag onto the coffee table and took various candies and ice creams out of it. Kamanosuke turned his head away, disgusted by the amount of sugar all in one place. In his ( technically their ) dwelling no less!

"Really, Saizō? How much money did you pay for all that? Where's the receipt?" Kamanosuke whined, not liking the idea of their funds spent on gross-tasting as sweets.

Saizō paused from unloading and looked up at Kamanosuke. He stared unimpressed. Dryly, he said, "Oh, so now you're worried about spending too much money?"

With an unpleasant look on his face now, he resumed what he was doing before.

"Well, it's not like I'm worried... I just think we could spend that money on something better..." Kamanosuke muttered under his breath. Yes, he was completely aware of how hypocritical he sounded, and no, he didn't care.

When Saizō finally finished placing all the sweets onto the table, he rose his head at Kamanosuke. He gestured toward the sweets as though to say pick one or die. Well, probably not that last part, but it was something along those lines. Wait—

Kamanosuke double took.

"Um, those are all for me?!" he said incredulously.

Saizō scoffed.

"No, they're for us. We're not eating them all at once," he fixed Kamanosuke with a stern look. Well fuck you, Saizō, because he didn't even like sweets to begin with. "—but you are going to try them, right?"

Kamanosuke scowled and crossed his arms. As if! He hated sweet things! They were disgusting and icky. Plus, they reminded him of that old place he used to be in, and that was always the worst thing to recall. That place would hand out sweet treats to good children. They were usually little sucking sweets wrapped in translucent plastic. But the sticks hanging from the candies always frayed at the end, much to his annoyance. He always thought their so-called "treats" were icky and horrible too.

"I don't want to," Kamanosuke whimpered. He crossed his arms and looked away. He pressed his eyebrows down against his eyes. His cheeks ballooned into a stubborn pout. "Don't you dare force me," he muttered.

He watched Saizō approach with a piece of chocolate in his hand. One of those Kisses, if he remembered his chocolate brands. They were usually wrapped in tinfoil. Saizō had already taken it off, a small wad of silver crinkles discarded onto the table.

"You know, I would have thought someone like you would love sugary things," Saizō commented as Kamanosuke scooted away.

"I don't, so get that shit out of my face," he snarled.

Saizō sighed and lowered his hand offering the piece of chocolate. "Fine, fine. I guess you don't like chocolate," his face wrinkled as he continued, "but you can't hate all sweets."

Kamanosuke offered a toothy grin and lifted a brow. He placed his hands on his hips and laughed.

"Wanna fuckin' bet on that?" he challenged, and if Saizō was astute ( and he was ), he would hear a tinge of annoyance in Kamanosuke's voice.

"I'll feed you," Saizō said teasingly.

"Eh?! Fuck no! That isn't, like," Kamanosuke stared at Saizō, "some sort of kink of yours or something, right?"

Saizō scoffed. He leaned over and placed the chocolate on Kamanosuke's lips, holding it down with his fingers.

"Like you haven't thought about it before," he pointed out.

Slander! Not true at all! "You have no proof!" Kamanosuke protested, his cheeks beginning to burn. ( he wasn't exactly moving away from saizō like before though. )

"Mhm, if you really don't want to, I won't force you," Saizō assured, patting and rubbing his head.

He didn't keen into the pats. He didn't fucking keen into the goddamn pats. He hated pats! They were always condescending, and he hated when people looked down on him.

"Huh, you really like head pats, don't you?" Saizō commented, amused by how Kamanosuke definitely wasn't leaning into Saizō's touch, goddammit!

He tensed as he felt Saizō's fingers gently prying his bottom lip down.

"Just tell me to stop," Saizō murmured, noticing the red-head stiffen. But of course, they both knew Kamanosuke wouldn't utter any protests. He was completely wrapped around Saizō's finger at this point. Even though Saizō's friends thought Kamanosuke had manipulated him into whatever the hell they called their relationship, it was Saizō who controlled the way Kamanosuke' fibers writhed happily under his fingers, and it was Saizō who pried Kamanosuke's knife away whenever the red-head tried to slit the throat of the unfortunate fucker who pissed him off. It seemed today, it would be Saizō who would convince Kamanosuke to taste his first chocolate in years.

Tentatively, Kamanosuke opened his mouth and reached out to the chocolate with his tongue. He pressed his tongue against it, sucking the taste from it. His expression immediately twisted up. Entirely too sweet, he decided as he spat it out.

"Disgusting," he grumbled.

"So what about licorice?" Saizō asked as he retrieved the piece of chocolate.

Kamanosuke tilted his head in consideration. He recalled thin, black strands with a slightly greasy look because of the lighting. Twisters in bold print on the packaging. It hadn't looked appealing to him if he was being honest.

"It's that black taffy stuff, right?" he asked.

"Yeah. Have you had any before?"

"Nope," he said, popping the "p" and rolling his head back.

Saizō shrugged and confessed, "Neither have I."

Why in the world are you suggesting it to him, then? Don't shove things down his throat that you've never had!

He opened his mouth to berate him, but Saizō must have noticed the apprehension on Kamanosuke's face because he quickly said, "I've heard it's not as sweet, so I thought you might prefer it more."

Not as sweet? "Then what's the point of it, anyway? Isn't this just an excuse to harass me?" he accused.

He scoffed at the way Saizō's face twisted disappointedly at his biting words.

"Don't look at me that way! This is obviously revenge from all the times I've harassed you!" He lowered his head and pulled the right corner of his mouth into a distasteful scowl. "Or am I wrong?"

The amused smile that spreads onto Saizō's face almost makes Kamanosuke want to punch him or something. Saizō was obviously laughing at him in his head, and he absolutely hated being laughed at.

"What's so funny!?" he demanded, pulling out a knife from beneath his pillow and waving it at Saizō.

Instead of wiping off his stupid grin, Saizō's smile grew wider.

"Oi, put the knife away, brat," he said, not sounding at all serious.

Kamanosuke hissed. Fuck you, Saizō! Stop taking him so lightly, dammit! Even back when they first met, he had acted like this— so infuriatingly casual and unbothered by the knife in Kamanosuke's possession.

"Seriously, though, what have I said about waving knives around," Saizō said, still not sounding at all serious. "Seriously," his ass!

With a smug smile on his face, Saizō plucked the knife from Kamanosuke and tossed it over his shoulder.

"Now, are you sure you don't want to try some licorice?" Saizō pressed.

"Are you sure this isn't just some ploy to make me cry?" he retorted.

Saizō shrugged and murmured, "Who can say?"

"You, dumbass," he pushed insistently on Saizō's chest, "and get out of my face."

He let out a short sigh as Saizō backed away from his face. Though he adored Saizō ( or perhaps because he adored him so much ), he couldn't bear close proximity for long. His skin tingled, and his head felt light. Even when Saizō slid back, Kamanosuke could still feel a prickling sensation from the previously occupied air in front of him. He didn't miss the way Saizō's smile strained slightly, and he almost felt the need to apologize. He knew better, though.

Apologies weren't Kamanosuke's thing.

"Hey, you're going to make me think you're sick or something if you keep thinking so much," Saizō teased softly.

At his voice, Kamanosuke's brows relaxed. Since when had he become so tense, anyway? He struggled to express something, pinned by the quiet concern in Saizō's eyes. Of all Saizō's looks, he hated it the most because of the way it caught words to the base of his throat. He flicked his mouth open and close a few times before he finally pulled his lips into a wide grin and said, "Me? Think too much? The hell do ya' think I am? I'm Kamanosuke Yuri! I don't think."

Saizō hummed in acknowledgment. "Not like me, huh?" he asked.

"Yeah, not like you," Kamanosuke agreed.

"Do you think that's a bad thing?" Saizō asked.

"What, thinking a lot?"

"Yeah."

Kamanosuke glanced at Saizō's face for a moment. He had a content look on his face and a relaxed smile. He almost didn't want to say anything so as not to disturb him.

"Erm, I think... you think too much. You shouldn't be caught up in your thoughts," he pressed his hands against Saizō's cheeks, "when I'm here!"

Saizō lifted a brow and said, "As if you'd let me."

"All according to plan!"

"Sounds like a shitty plan to me."

"Eh? Nobody asked you!" Kamanosuke said, shoving Saizō onto his back forcefully. He leaned over, his long, red strands lightly touched Saizō's face, and he tugged on his dark hair. Angrily, he demanded, "And what, are you saying that I shouldn't have all your attention? Would you prefer to devote yourself to that bitch, Isanami, instead of me?"

He glowed smugly at the way Saizō winced when he pulled on his hair, but a moment later, he yelped in surprise. Saizō yanked at his hair, pulling Kamanosuke's head to him. He heard "don't be such a brat" snarled into his ear before Saizō kneed him in the stomach and shoved him away. He huffed as he landed on his back next to Saizō, and he quickly flung his arm at Saizō to drag him back.

During their tussle, Saizō swiped his legs around and knocked Kamanosuke off the bed. He landed on the floor with an "eep" and a sore butt.

Saizō peered down at the fallen red-head and called out "sorry, Kamanosuke" in an unconvincing tone. Disgruntled by the far too pleased look on Saizō's face, he reached for the coffee table and began fishing for an ice cream cone he had seen Saizō take out of the bag earlier. It was a Magnus? Magellan? Something like that? When he finally felt a large, round-shaped object in his hand and heard the crinkle of plastic, he pulled himself up to his feet.

He glared at the way Saizō had adjusted himself— leaning back, looking relaxed, smiling in amusement at him.

Aggressively, he unwrapped the bar of ice cream. Saizō watched with evident curiosity, a question held back in favor of seeing how this would play out. Soon, Saizō. Soon. Just as soon as he was able to unwrap this damn thing, anyway.

With a triumphant smile, he finally ripped the plastic wrapper off. He crumpled it up and tossed it aimlessly somewhere before turning his attention back to Saizō; the question on his mind looked nearly about to spill.

"What happened to hating sweets?" Saizō asked.

Kamanosuke broke into wild laughter. ( saizō was thinking "what a crazy brat" now, right? ) Sai- zō! Of course, Kamanosuke hadn't suddenly grown a fond love of sugar because of his prodding. Don't be so arrogant. He widened his smile, flashing his teeth at Saizō. He tossed the ice cream into the air. As it flipped down, he caught it by its handle. He leaned his wrist back, having the ice cream bar hover horizontally over his shoulder.

"Don't worry, I still hate sweets," he assured, crawling back onto the bed.

He tilted his head and looked up at Saizō from a perpendicular angle. He didn't understand his own preferences enough to know what he found so attractive about Saizō. This overwhelming, fluttery feeling in his chest— those teen books would call it "love," but he didn't think he was capable of love, so it had to be the more base desire called "lust." So then— what was it about Saizō that he lusted over?

He blinked as Saizō's hand slid beneath his chin. Long fingers rolled in circles at a relaxing pace. "What are you thinking?" Saizō asked, regarding Kamanosuke with those cruelly kind eyes of his.

Half lies came all too naturally to him, and so he replied with only some truthfulness, "I'm thinking about how handsome you are."

"Hmph. You're omitting something there, aren't you?" Saizō tutted, "You don't ever think, but when you do, you think far more than necessary."

His shark-toothed grin disappeared. A placated one took its place as he answered, "Like I said, I'm Kamanosuke Yuri. I don't do this thinking you speak of, and I especially don't think 'far more than necessary.' That isn't at all the sort of person I am."

The finality in his tone rang clear, but Saizō never knew when to stop. Never. He always pushed and shoved and prodded. Even that scared boy putting on a brave face would inevitably drag a knife-wielding Kamanosuke out of his walled fortress. ( is that, perhaps, why he adored saizō in an inferior facsimile of love? )

"Honesty isn't a bad quality, you know," Saizō said.

Brave— incredibly brave— but also incredibly annoying. He gnashed his molars together, wanting nothing more than to be done with this conversation. If it wasn't Saizō the one irritating him, he would have already strangled the pest.

He forced a bright, Kamanosuke-patented smile to his face.

Mustering his best happy-but-not-really tone, he said, "That's right, Sai-kun! Honesty is always the best policy! So let me honestly express my thoughts: you're a really handsome man who's about to have ice cream dripping from his face!"

He launched forward and demanded, "How's this for honesty!?"

The immense satisfaction of seeing chunks of ice cream fall onto Saizō's surprised face was more than Kamanosuke realized, and he had to pause for a moment to process his glee. It was all the time Saizō needed to retaliate. He dragged the remaining ice cream bar from Kamanosuke with one hand and lifted his shirt with the other. The sudden cold on his sensitive stomach— ah, ah, ah— you horrible, cruel, exploiting man— "Eeeeeek!"

He jumped back— and off the bed, landing on the ground. Again.

"Fuck you, Saizō! Fuck you!" he screeched.

He plundered the pile of sweets and began pelleting Saizō with unwrapped, hard candies ( all the while screaming profanity after profanity at him ).

"I've got half a mind to drag you into the bathroom and scrub that dirty mouth of yours clean," Saizō sneered as he swatted flying candies away from his face.

Kamanosuke spat on the ground and stuck his tongue out. "Try me!" he said as flipped his finger.

"Hah! As if any amount of scrubbing would do anything but give you red sores. Maybe if you consumed sugar you might be able to hide your state, but it's nothing to bet on, now is it?"

"As if I would even consume that shit!" he retorted.

"Can't know if we don't try," Saizō answered, giving Kamanosuke a sharp-filled smile.

sudden end but oh wELL i'm so done i have things i need to do i can't be taking this long to write one fic.
[break]at least i don't feel dead like i did the last time i wrote anything over 1k.

closing[break]
notes

hah look another twewy b/c this is totally not my obsession.

opening[break]
notes

"Isn't this way too cliché?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Neku. I just thought you might like something like this."

He turned his head. Violet eyes ( they weren't even natural a natural color— seriously now, joshua? ) blinked at him innocently. Pale hair fell forward, obscuring part of Joshua's eyes. It annoyed him. Eyes are the windows to a person's soul. It was probably dumb, and sometimes he didn't think Joshua even had a soul, but it still comforted him to see his eyes— as if it would allow him to predict the next time Joshua felt like playing with a gun. Or all his friends' lives, for that matter.

He reached out and tucked the offending hair piece behind Joshua's ear. If not for the smug smile afterward, he would have relished in the look of surprise Joshua gave him. If you asked him, he looked better startled. That amused look of his only made him seem more like an asshole. It fit him, but he really should put more effort into seeming like a better person than he actually was. He wasn't one for fakers, but it would make Joshua more bearable to be around.

"Hey, Neku." He nearly jumped in surprise at the weight of Joshua's touch on his arm. He barely noticed when Joshua addressed him, too caught off guard by the hand wrapped around his arm. What were they, some sort of love-struck middle-schoolers on a first date?

"To be honest—"

"You're capable of that?"

"Neku, don't be rude."

"...Yeah?"

He didn't like how Joshua wrapped one arm around his waist and held his other arm up, fingertips spread over part of his face. He knew that position, and he definitely knew that teasing look on his face.

"Don't we look like a couple?"

What the fuck, Joshua? Seriously? That's what you have to say. He didn't cancel his plans with Shiki just to deal with his bullshit.

He glared at Joshua and said, "That's not even funny."

"Look at us, though. We're at a carnival, in a Ferris wheel, and we're the only ones in this gondola. Anyone looking on would think we're some sort of couple," the blond continued, turning his head away from the pointed looks Neku was giving him.

It's all his fault, anyway, so who was Joshua to talk about them looking like some couple? "You're the one who invited me to talk, and you're the one who put your hand on my arm. If anything, it'll be your fault if someone thought we're something. Or are we?"

Joshua shrugged. He leaned against the cab, placing his elbow on the window sill. The damn coward he was, he looked out the window instead of facing Neku. "I don't know what you're talking about," Joshua said.

If Neku could see his face, he would no doubt see that deliberative-looking but actually brooding expression of Joshua's that he always wore whenever something wasn't going his way, or he wanted to ignore something that he couldn't. In this case, it was both. Honestly, he was getting sick of Joshua tersely shutting his questions down. Sure, it was great that Joshua was meeting up with him, but this was just as bad as Joshua hiding out in his pad, or wherever he had been wallowing in for the past year.

He crossed his arms and said, "Joshua... You're welcome to play this game of pretend, but I'm not going to wait forever. I'm not immortal. I don't have the time to keep playing with you. One day—"

"Neku..." Joshua spoke up, "please."

"You're the one who invited me 'to talk.'"

"My mistake."

Joshua shifted away from him. Neku could practically see the cloud hovering over Joshua darken as his ears seemed to move closer to his shoulders. Almost like he was sinking back into himself. As if he would allow that.

He stood up abruptly from his seat. He snapped, "What, are you really shutting me out now? You're the one who sent the text!"

Apparently, Joshua was in an extraordinarily irritated mood, because he didn't even say anything— or hell, turn around and look at him before he dematerialized in front of Neku.

"Oh, come on, Joshua! Don't you dare get pissy and leave again! I know you're still there!" he yelled. Of course, he didn't get a single, damn reply. He wondered if Joshua was even there. He had seemed more agitated for some reason, so maybe he immediately left when he disappeared. If that was the case, perhaps it was related to what Joshua wanted to talk to him about.

He let out an exasperated sigh. Fucking— Joshua was such high maintenance! If he had to chase after him again, he really wouldn't be happy. The last time Joshua had run off like this, it was about two weeks before Neku saw a flick of his blond hair. This game of hide-and-seek was starting to grate on his nerves. If it didn't end soon, he would probably rip off Joshua's head.

it's literally 3am in the morning so i'm gonna pray there aren't any horrid mistakes asdfghjkl.[break][break]
also, i know it doesn't reaaaally incorporate the prompt. actually, when i heard carnival, my mind immediately jumped to ferris wheels, so that was more of the idea i was wrapping it around. it didn't occur to me until i actually wrote the thing that ferris wheels and carnivals aren't exactly the same thing...

closing[break]
notes

the context isn't important. and maybe i'll decide on a title later.

opening[break]
notes

His clothes are damp. They cling to his skin as a slow, miserable chill crawls up his skin. His eyes promise murder to the man who pushed him into the water, but they find themselves tempered when all they see is that beautiful woman from that festival night. His lips part to call out in surprise, but he stops just short when that image disperses. Across the fire, the small, dark-haired man that pushed him in the water stares back. He wonders if the other has a sister. Maybe, perhaps— that lady?

...Or maybe it's just his mind latching onto anything remotely similar to that lady. He notes the man's teal eyes. They're just like hers. That must be why he nearly saw her.

Human hearts are truly bothersome in that way.

He closes his eyes and leans toward the fire. The heat eats uncomfortably at his face, but he's too much like a wet dog to care.

i heard bonfire and i thought of this specifically. i think i strayed a bit from the prompt, as per usual...

closing[break]
notes

look at me, writing so quickly! ...but in reality, these posts are actually things i had been holding onto a for a while... i keep starting prompts and then leaving them half-finished, haha...

opening[break]
notes

the local lemonade stand is a block away from mcdonald's. a plain-looking boy sits on a hard, wooden stool. he occasionally moves to sweep off accumulating snow, but otherwise, he seems more like a figurine than a human. he is always there from 6:00 am – 8:00 am, leaves for school, and returns around five for a few more hours manning the stand.

chūya once asks why he stays so late into the winter night. dead eyes that strike him as oddly familiar regard him for a few beats before the owner looks away.

"everyone is dead. why not?" the boy says.

the words are spoken with such frankness. chūya is taken aback. there's certainly something familiar about this boy, but as he tries to recall, he finds himself unable to. he thinks this boy knows, though. ( he always does. ) he opens his mouth to ask, but no words come out.

as though this boy knows of his struggle, he murmurs, "one day."

one day, chūya will finally remember. but not today.

he'll sleep a little longer for now.

the context isn't important to the story itself, but this was written mostly because i was trying to get into the voice of chūya. baby steps are baby steps though sweat

closing[break]
notes

what do you mean i'm done writing anything but drabbles LOLOL[break][break]

bungou stray dogs again. this time it's chūya flailing when it comes to akutagawa. y'know, usual stuff.

opening[break]
notes

In an open field, a young man with dark hair sits on the ground, a broken kite in his hands. He has a disappointed expression. Next to him, a redhead with a butterfly wing's eyes fiddles with the string of his own kite. He observes Akutagawa's kite curiously, wondering if he will fix it.

"People like these? To be honest, I don't see the appeal of them," he says. Though Chūya is looking at him, Akutagawa does not meet his eyes. Is it insolence or meekness— isn't a question. Chūya is no empath, but he can feel the other's discomfort around him. He isn't a fool— he knows why Akutagawa displays such restlessness. Even though that bandaged fish left the Port Mafia more than a couple of years ago, he's left his ghostly imprint everywhere. Dazai never cleans up after himself and leaves his messes for Chūya to take care of. The pieces of broken glass are just another mess Chūya must pick up, but he wouldn't mind subjecting Dazai to a painful, drawn-out death for this particular mess.

"I guess you wouldn't." he shrugs. "They're relaxing."

"Are they?" Akutagawa finally lifts his head up. His eyes are grey like his complexion. There's a child-like question behind his perceived flat tone that Chūya nearly misses.

He smiles. "Yeah."

"... I can't understand," Akutagawa admits. To his disappointment, Akutagawa lowers his head again. There's a cloud over the boy's head that nearly spreads to him. It casts Akutagawa in a dim, still sickly-looking shadow. If he could reach out and brush those clouds away, he would. He can't—these clouds aren't part of reality—but he'll try to sweep them away anyway.

"They look carefree in the sky," Chūya says, turning his attention upward. "One day, we'll join them."

"...But our kites are broken...?"

He looks down again at the splintered wood and torn fabric on Akutagawa's lap. He looks almost like a puppy, rather than a vicious dog. He's completely missed Chūya's metaphor, but the adorable, confused expression on his face is too priceless to regret.

He hums in agreement. "Yeah, they are. You want to help me tape them up? I've got some in the trunk. I thought this might happen."

"...You expected us to break our kites?" Akutagawa's tone seems to flicker between self-deprecation and hurt. His expression stays painfully neutral.

"Well, it's pretty windy, so..." Chūya says.

"Oh. Okay."

Chūya offers him a hand that Akutagawa politely declines— who is he trying to prove to now, Chūya wants to say, but he keeps quiet. He can't clean up every mess. Someday, all the uncleanable messes that Dazai's left will tumble out of the closet he's shoved them into and suffocate him under their weight. Chūya will laugh his ass off when it happens, but for now, he's stuck trying to not slip onto it. Dazai's mess stretches everywhere; it is inescapable for Chūya and poised for him to trip on it. Probably purposefully too.

He leads Akutagawa to his car and pops the trunk open. It's mostly empty—he recently cleaned his car—save for a small briefcase, a few bottles of water, and the tape he was talking about.

"Couldn't you have just bought extra kites if you anticipated this?" Akutagawa asks when he hands him the tape.

Akutagawa asks when he hands him the tape.

Actually, the kite Akutagawa holds is the extra kite. He hadn't intended on bringing Akutagawa along when he visited the store for some kites and tape. He's not exactly sure how to explain himself without making Akutagawa feel bad though.

"It was sort of a last minute thing," he says. He doesn't clarify what he means, leaving Akutagawa to assume he just didn't think about it.

"Oh, I see. What do you want me to do with this?" Akutagawa lifts the tape up.

"...Tape your kite up?" This boy is trying to kill Chūya with his confused expressions, isn't he?

There's another question on Akutagawa's face that Chūya doesn't expect him to ask, so he takes a guess, "Do you need my help?"

The boy fiddles with the roll of tape for a moment. Chūya can see the weights in Akutagawa's head as he decides if he's walking into a trap or not. He's not—Chūya doesn't have the patience to lay down intricate traps—but given his ex-mentor, it's obvious he's internalized that every gesture has an underlying motive.

"No. Just hold this up," Akutagawa says, handing Chūya his broken kite.

Chūya places his kite down into the trunk—"So yes, you do need my help. There's nothing wrong asking, you know"—and takes Akutagawa's kite from him. He holds it up at a slight angle and uses one hand to pinch the fabric together.

Not unexpectedly, Akutagawa scoffs as he unravels the tape. "I just need you to hold it," he says as he places a piece of tape down.

Chūya doesn't argue further. He shifts to: "You'll help me next, right?"

It's not a question that needs to be asked so Akutagawa gives him a weird look. "Yes, sir," he answers as he moves on to the frame of the kite.

Chūya frowns at the formality. "Chūya is fine. We're just hanging out at a park."

Akutagawa smiles faintly to himself. "Sorry, sir."

Now Chūya knows he's just being messed with. With a huff, he reaches out to pinch his cheek. He grins at the vaguely annoyed look Akutagawa gives him. He notes how Akutagawa lifts his hand before stilting. He keeps it hovered as though he doesn't know where to place it. "Nakahara-san—"

"I think you mean 'Chūya.'"

What's with this child and his formalities, anyway? Nobody calls him by his last name. He's rather unusual in this regard, but he's always preferred being addressed by his first name. Besides, they're leaning against the trunk of his car, repairing their broken kites. This hardly seems like a situation that calls for polite protocol.

"Chūya-san—"

"Chūya."

"Fine. Chūya—" Akutagawa doesn't finish his sentence since Chūya lets go of his cheek. He changes the topic and says, "My kite's repaired now."

Chūya turns the kite over in hands to inspect Akutagawa's work.

"Not bad," he appraises. "Hold my kite now."

Akutagawa nods and dutifully takes Chūya kite in his hands. It only has a few tears— Chūya doesn't need him to hold it up, but he doesn't want Akutagawa to feel incompetent by being the only one who needs help. It's a quick repair that only takes any time at all because he nitpicks at details.

"Okay, done. Isn't tape great? Hey, Akutagawa, want to have a competition?"

If it was anyone else, he would take offense to the way he's warily looked at, but he's merely exasperated by the way Akutagawa regards him cautiously when he says, "Competition?"

"Yeah. See that hill over there?" Chūya points over to an uplift in the ground. It's not exactly a hill, but whatever, it's close enough for him. "Let's see who can reach it the fastest."

"You would." Akutagawa says it as though not his conjecture but a law of physics. What, does he think Chūya is going to use his ability? Although, knowing him— yes. That's exactly what he thinks.

He turns back to Akutagawa. "No abilities."

Akutagawa doesn't miss a beat when he replies, "You'd still win." Something that bugs him.

"Well, I guess. But I mean… don't you want to try anyway?" he presses.

"Not really…"

He can suddenly feel the weight of his impatience. "Huh. Okay, fine, I guess we can just walk there then?"

Chūya peers at him when he doesn't hear a reply.

"Akutagawa?" he prompts.

After a moment of silence, Akutagawa turns his attention to Chūya. He asks in a quiet tone, "Nakahara-san—"

That boy and his 'Nakahara-san's.

"—why did you invite me?"

Chūya closes his eyes and lets a breath of air out. Another question that makes him sigh in melancholy for what was never— a kind life with loving parents and happy-go-lucky siblings. Then Akutagawa's question would never be asked, and Chūya would not find it completely reasonable.

He turns his head up at Akutagawa. With a cheerful grin, he answers, "For your company. I mean, I've always been curious about you and all—" He leaves the "because you were Dazai's pupil" unsaid, but he's sure Akutagawa will fill it in. "—so I decided to take the opportunity to get to know you."

He catches the way Akutagawa's face scrunches in confusion, and for once he doesn't find it particularly cute.

"What, is it that surprising that someone might just want to hang out with you?" he bites.

He feels bad when Akutagawa flinches, but he's not someone who has the patience to deal with broken children wrought by equally ridiculous brats. Dazai had the patience though, so why couldn't he have treated Akutagawa as he's come to treat his new student? Perhaps it was just another game Dazai pursued in a twisted attempt to satisfy that gaping emptiness in his soul. Now that he's discovered treating impressionable children terribly doesn't do shit for him, he's moved onto a nurturing act— as though it would ever give Dazai what he wants. Chūya almost wants to laugh at how stupid it all is, but then, he can't even find it funny when he looks at Akutagawa— desperate and wrung dry.

Damn you, Dazai— always leaving him with the worst messes.

Chūya places a hand on Akutagawa's shoulder—hates it when the other winces—and spits out, "I'm not him. I'm not going to hurt you like he did. You don't need to act like I'm a minefield." Doesn't he get that enough from the rest of the Port Mafia? Even Akutagawa, whose reputation for violence overshadows Chūya's own, walks on shells around him. What is he, some sort of ticking time bomb?!

( that's exactly what he is: a ticking time bomb, set to go off at any moment. )

Akutagawa's lackluster, unconvinced "right" leaves Chūya aching for something kinder than he's given.

"Right. Yes, well," he looks away, "let's just enjoy ourselves and fly our kites."

"I'm sorry, Nakahara-san, but I..." Akutagawa doesn't need to finish his sentence for Chūya to understand.

"Then go. It's fine," he offers Akutagawa a weak smile, "I get it."

Akutagawa nods. He tries to return his kite— Chūya turns him down. "Keep it," he says.

He seems to waver for a moment ( though chūya wonders if he even has any idea why himself since he seems befuddled ) before bowing politely and leaving. Chūya watches him make his way back to his car— it's parked a few stone-throws away, and it's so cheap for Akutagawa's salary, but it makes him all the more charming in Chūya's eyes.

Not waiting to watch Akutagawa drive away, he starts walking back to the field. He tosses his kite up, letting the breeze catch it. The wind wraps around it and lifts it into the sky. As it moves upward, Chūya unravels the string to give it more freedom. Thinking about it, he finds his kite metaphor ruined. Even though kites look so care-free in the sky, aren't they still tug around with a thin piece of string?

It's not relaxing anymore, he decides as he wraps the string back around flimsy cardboard.

mhm, no i don't have complicated feelings about dazai what are you talking about

closing[break]
notes

this got longer. it was supposed to be short, sweet, simple, silly— honestly none of these are ever short and silly. what the heck am i saying

opening[break]
notes

Sizzle. Flip— sizzle.

It's a pleasant rhythm Saizō's established. It would upset him if it is interrupted. Unfortunately, it's too late for warnings like that. Kamanosuke has already taken the pleasure to smash through his fence—which he'll have to replace later—and blare rock music in his backyard. He's starting to think Kamanosuke's entire existence is a conspiracy against him. He wonders which gods he offended this time.

"Saizō——ō. What are you doing? I'm bored!" he hears Kamanosuke complain behind him. He refuses to turn around. He's not grilling burgers just for fun— he plans to eat them, so he doesn't want burned meat.

It doesn't detour Kamanosuke. He's a thoughtless brat who pushes his agenda regardless of anything. Naturally, he begins tugging at Saizō's clothes, trying to get his attention and demanding, "Don't ignore me!"

Saizō ignores him.

After a few more minutes of whining in his ear, Kamanosuke must realize Saiō doesn't intend to humor him since the feeling of his sleeves being pulled at incessantly stops. It is replaced with the weight of Kamanosuke leaning over his shoulder.

"Sai-kun! Whatever you're making smells delicious. You're going to give me some, right?" that insolent child solicits in his ear.

He's sure he'll regret this, but he yields, "These are for everyone, Kamanosuke. You can have one patty."

"Everyone? You mean like Sasuke, big boob lady, and the small bitch?"

Saizō sighs at the nicknames but nods his head. "Yeah, them."

Even though Kamanosuke is out of his sight, he's sure the selfish prince is scowling at the thought of sharing food with annoying "flies." —And true to his assumption, he can hear tiny whining noises behind him. He sounds nearly as pathetic as a sad puppy, but he's not even close to being as cute, so Saizō kicks him with his heel.

"Ow! Seriously, Saizō? If you want a fight, I'll give you one!"

"Stop complaining and deal with it— and turn your music off while you're at it."

He hears something muttered under Kamanosuke's breath, but he can't quite make it out. He's sure it's something childish since that seems to be the only responses Kamanosuke can make. At the very least, he feels Kamanosuke's weight leave his back. A moment later, the music stops. It doesn't take long for Kamanosuke to lean against him again, though. Persistent mouse.

"Hey, Saizō?" He feels Kamanosuke bury his head into him.

He looks down as petite arms wrap around him. "Yeah?"

"I'm bored. Entertain me," the spoiled noble orders.

Too bad Saizō is a rebel who doesn't bow to the nobility. "No. Bug someone else."

"Saaaaaizō... You're the only one who can entertain me, though!"

"How useless can you be? Like I said, find someone else to bother."

He flips a patty over and moves to the next one. With Kamanosuke all over him, his movements are restricted and turning the meat over requires straining. Dissatisfied with tolerating Kamanosuke, he jerks his body away to unequip the clingy redhead.

Kamanosuke reattaches himself immediately. He complains, "Oi, Saizō! Why don't you ever care when Isa-nom-nom clings to your arm but you're always trying to shrug me off?"

Saizō scoffs. "Haven't you seen me? I do try to get Isanami off."

"No you don't! Or at least, you aren't actually trying. You just put on a show for your stupid loner image," Kamanosuke retorts.

While Kamanosuke isn't wrong, if Saizō doesn't tell him off, he'll become incredibly annoying— as if Kamanosuke doesn't drive him insane already. As such, he reaches behind him and pinches Kamanosuke's nose.

"Don't be a bother or else I'll kick you out of here," he warns Kamanosuke.

He catches the way Kamanosuke's grip tightens, and he almost feels bad— until he remembers that Kamanosuke is a persistent, stubborn, punch-y kid with a thick skin and an even denser mind.

"And if you cut the circulation off in my arm, I'll also kick you out," he adds.

His response is low growls that he takes as a grumpy fine judging by the way Kamanosuke relaxes his grip around his arm.

After that, Kamanosuke just hangs loosely on his arm, and Saizō is given peace as he rocks back into his rhythm.

Sizzle. Flip— sizzle.

It's nice, and he almost forgets the clingy redhead wrapped around him. But Kamanosuke won't let him ever forget his presence.

After a few, lovely minutes— "Saizō, are you done? I'm getting hungry," Kamanosuke presses impatiently. A stomach growl accompanies to prove his point.

"Have you eaten at all today?" Saizō knows the answer—Kamanosuke is too light for his age—but he prefers to hear Kamanosuke admit it to him. ( kamanosuke has a strange mentality that makes him reluctant to admit certain things; it's as though he's supposed to bear his problems alone, which is completely ridiculous and untrue. )

"Hey, I just want food, that's all! I'm growing, Saizō, so just give me some food already."

That's exactly what he means when he worries over Kamanosuke. If he doesn't mother him, one day he'll get a call from the hospital with regretful news: "I'm sorry sir, but your best friend was found rotting away from starvation."

...he can't let that happen.

Because Kamanosuke has difficulty communicating his needs, he's become a habitual thief. Saizō isn't sure there's anyone that Kamanosuke relies on. Not even his paren— well, they're not particularly good people, anyway, so there's no surprise that Kamanosuke can't trust them. ( it's sad; that's how he lives every day—wary and lonely. ) He doesn't entirely understand Kamanosuke, but the fact that the skittish redhead is asking for food is enough for Saizō.

"They'll be done in a few minutes," he says.

"Whatever," Kamanosuke mutters.

He bops Kamanosuke with the back of his hand. "Patience is a virtue, isn't it?"

"I ain't Mother Teresa. Nor are you, by the way, so what do you have to talk about?" Kamanosuke reaches over and covers his eyes.

"Bitch, I put up with you every day," he pries Kamanosuke's fingers away from his eyes, "I'm Mother-fucking-Teresa incarnate."

Kamanosuke scoffs, as though he isn't a terror placed by a devil to agonize the Earth. ( he is— he completely is. ) "Hah! You think I'd hang out around you if you were Teresa? Not a fuckin' chance. After all, it's those unholy eyes of yours that—"

Oh God, not this again. He once suffered through Kamanosuke's entire monologue, and those had to be the most uncomfortable, embarrassing, seven minutes of his life.

"Oi, Kamanosuke, do you want food or not?" he interrupts.

"Eh? Of course, I do!"

He winces as Kamanosuke excitedly squeezes his arm. He reminds, "What did I say about cutting off the circulation in my arm?"

"Whatever." Kamanosuke reaches out toward the grill. "Food!"

"It's not been a few minutes, though," Saizō says, not hiding his amusement, "and you might get burned if you keep reaching your fingers out like that."

"I don't care! I just want food!"

"I care though." He bats Kamanosuke's hands away— before the idiot accidentally burned himself.

He's concerned when Kamanosuke suddenly settles. He doesn't even hear his usually loud breathing in his ear. It's complete, atypical silence. It doesn't last long, and Saizō's blood quickly boils to an overflowing bubble.

Kamanosuke—the audacious little shit—growls, "Don't fuck with me. You 'care'? Are you joking? Nobody 'cares' about me. You don't care about me. Don't lie to me."

Saizō sees a pale arm detract from his left side, and he quickly snatches it before it can move away completely.

"Saizō," Kamanosuke hisses.

"That's right. I don't care about you at all," he feels the way Kamanosuke tries to tug away, "—is what you think I'm going to say, right?"

"I'm right, aren't I? You only— you only put up with me because Isanami told you to!" Kamanosuke snaps.

Isanami this, Isanami that— "Why the hell do you all think my life is dictated by that girl?!"

"Because it is? Because she says, and you do. You're a wild beast turned into a common house dog by a little girl."

"You idiot—" He turns around and adjusts his grip. It's actually true Isanami told him to be nice to Kamanosuke, but— "you think I put up with you just because of Isanami? You— I care about you because you're my best friend, and I don't want to find you dead because you're too scared to ask for help."

"I'm not scared of—"

"Shut up. Just shut up." He pulls Kamanosuke to him and holds him tightly. "You're so reckless and stupid, but you're terrified to ask for help because you're afraid they'll say 'no.' So when you get injured, or you're hurting inside, you never say anything— you just suffer. It would be just like you to get into a near-death accident and crawl your way out because you'd rather bleed out in some ditch than ask for help— and that thought scares me— you scare me. I don't want to lose you, Kamanosuke. I don't want to lose you—"

His breath stops short as fingers gently brush against his bottom eyelids.

"Saizō," Kamanosuke's voice is soft and so unlike his usual energy, "why would you cry for me? I don't understand you at all."

He looks down at dark eyes, unkind and unloved. They are startling in their absence. A pool of black water— he's suffocating; he's drowning. He knows he's wrong when he stares into endless eyes. Those fingers on his skin are not gentle;

they are not there.

after all, yuri kamanosuke, age eleven, died like a wilted flower— unappreciated and abandoned in a barren corner of the room.

"You never cried for me before."

that escalated.[break]
it wasn't supposed to, y'know. it was supposed to be happy. H a p p y.[break]
toss that shit tho amiright

closing[break]
notes

"humidity" so ofc i immediately think of kagerou daze and "wow this would be perfect to put saizou and kamanosuke in" so here we are. i've been listening to that song non-stop so tbh this fic was kind of inevitable LOL

opening[break]
notes

the day rolls by like they never existed. he can't remember a time without the sun bearing down him, and his skin reviling the humidity. if he tries to recall a time before this endless summer, he gets headaches, so he's decided this uncomfortable warmth has always accompanied him. from birth, unto death—

unto death...

august 15th— there's not a speckle wrong on the sky. it's as perfect and bright as ever. he sighs as his black clothes quickly grow hot. he glances to his side at the dramatic redhead languishing about the heat. a pale, scarred back drapes onto his shoulder, soft and thick red hair the only padding. his vision is blocked by kamanosuke turning his back at him, but he's sure if he could see kamanosuke's face, he would look utterly tempting. long eyelashes fluttering and eyelids only half-open— his mind couldn't come up with anything that matches the reality, but he likes everything it depicts anyway.

"...saizō," kamanosuke murmurs. his voice is full of heat exhaustion— saizō is almost tempted to go back indoors before kamanosuke passes out. "uhn... i... see a weasel...? am i... delirious?"

saizō gently strokes his fingers through kamanosuke's hair. "where?" he softly asks, not wanting to disturb the languid moment.

kamanosuke lifts his arm and points down the slope. he looks over and sees a white, weasel-like creature. staring curiously at them. he's alarmed when it begins to scamper toward them. he recalls hearing weasels are dangerous, so he quickly drags kamanosuke to his feet—ignoring kamanosuke's protests of "saizō!?"—and backs up from the approaching animal.

his mistake— kamanosuke doesn't take kindly to being dragged around, so he yanks away from saizō grip, annoyed eyes flashing at him before he runs to the weasel.

...this fucking idiot is going to get himself killed by a goddamn weasel, saizō just knows it.

kamanosuke settles onto saizō's shoulder, the weasel cradled in his arms as he strokes it not at all gently. when he sees the miserable expression on the weasel's face, he thinks he got it wrong: the weasel isn't the threat here— kamanosuke is.

pitying the poor creature, he tries to convince kamanosuke to let the weasel go, "kamanosuke—"

"ameharu."

"...huh?"

"that's it's name: ameharu."

"what— you— you're naming it?"

"i'm not naming it. it's already named. can't you tell? this is sasuke's pet weasel."

"...wait, what? sasuke has a pet weasel— hold on, isn't that illegal?"

"sasuke also has a pet bear, swan, a few wild cats, hedgehogs— um, i think he has more, too." kamanosuke strains his head up. "awww, saizō. don't look so horrified. don't you know how sasuke is?"

"i— but—"

wasn't sasuke supposed to be the lawful one?

"that's kakei," kamanosuke hums.

"i didn't know you were a mind reader."

kamanosuke turns around and smiles mischievously at him. "it's because i know you better than anyone else!" he proclaims.

"even better than my mom?"

"duh. your mom doesn't know anything about you. that's not really a high standard. um... i know you better than isanami, or ana, or yukimura!"

"wow, you must be pretty confident about that. they have known me longer than you, y'know. should i test that you're not just talking?"

"hah! i'll answer any question about you. bring it on!"

"alright. what's my favorite color?"

"starting off with a trick question, huh? you don't have a favorite color. actually, you kind of like red these days, don't you?"

he's honestly impressed that kamanosuke caught on, but not entirely unexpected given how much they hang out. "oh? you noticed?"

"yeah! next question!" the weasel makes a quiet whimper as kamanosuke suddenly squeezes it out of excitement.

"uh..." he's concerned about the weasel, but kamanosuke's animated, green eyes of his catch his attention and pull him demandingly. "what's my favorite flower?"

"umm... it used to be white lilies, but you've started liking roses, right? i guess it's 'cause they're also red." kamanosuke wrinkles his nose and complains, "these questions are so easy— are you even trying? jeez, give me something harder!"

"it's not my fault you're a stalker who knows everything about me," saizō protests, but he concedes, "but fine. you want a difficult question? then who's my crush?"

kamanosuke scoffs. "seriously? isanami, obviously," he says, flipping his hair.

he smiles at the small motion. sassy brat, always so confident— but this time it's misplaced. his crush isn't isanami. his crush— isn't someone he can ever let himself love. they're too unpredictable, too unsteady— how can he love someone so fragile?

"wrong," he says, a light smile to hide the heavy print on his heart.

"...wrong? i'm... wrong? ...no— no way! it's not isanami? you don't like isanami?"

saizō laughs as kamanosuke begins to shake him insistently. the weasel takes the lapse in kamanosuke's focus to slip away. it hops to the ground and flees down the stairs, its little legs exerting themselves to carry it as far away from kamanosuke as they can.

"ah! wait! come back! ameharu!"

kamanosuke leaps to his feet and darts after the weasel. he's so nimble— so fast— and headed out to the road—! saizō scrambles up and yell, "be carefu— kamanosuke!"

he doesn't think he's ever ran as quickly as he does at that moment. all he can see is that red hair— so beautiful under the sun— as it stops short and falls to the ground.

august 14th— not a single cloud to cover the sky. a beautiful, blue expanse with nothing to keep the sun to shine at its full, oppressive blaze. his clothes are hot on his skin, the icecream barely a consolation, but he's relieved that he chose long-sleeved clothes. kamanosuke is pressed against him as he rests his head. the heat is tiring, and kamanosuke makes no effort to stay awake— but did he have to lean against him?

inside, saizō wants to die from the embarrassment that wells as kamanosuke shifts against him. thank god for the small boon that is his clothes. he doesn't think he could bear the contact if it was just his skin.

he closes his eyes and lets out a shaky sigh. kamanosuke is lovely against him— gorgeous, red hair and such pale skin nearly drained of its color. all silky milk-white, and not a trace of blood. and yet...

"saizō...?" kamanosuke's voice is groggy as he calls out to him. he moves his head, and his eyes flutter open.

he's too damn beautiful, and saizō can't help it when he brushes his lips against kamanosuke's forehead.

"we're not children, saizō," kamanosuke reminds him. it lacks his usual vindictive energy, but that's only because he's waking up. if he was alert, saizō could have expected loud protests.

at least kamanosuke takes the gesture as merely childish remnants. still, somehow, it disappoints him that kamanosuke didn't take the hint. as if he wants him to, but...

"saizō, why are you ignoring me? pay attention!" kamanosuke demands.

it used to annoy him— the way kamanosuke complains and pesters— it never failed to rile him up. but now, he finds it adorable and just another quirk to love about the spunky redhead.

"yeah, kamanosuke?"

"u-um..." best of all, it never fails to fluster kamanosuke.

"yes? what can i do for you?" he asks, flicking kamanosuke in the head.

he's surprised to see a pensive look cross kamanosuke— as though this child is anything but tentative, but he sees the very antonym of "kamanosuke" expressed on his face.

"i— it's—" his thoughtful look slides off. it flashes through resignation, and then to kamanosuke's usual confidence, though strained as it were. "your icecream's melting, saizō."

he looks down. "so it is."

"you don't sound very concerned," kamanosuke notes.

"mhm, it doesn't matter to me really. who needs sticky, sweet stuff when i have you?"

"...are you calling me clingy?"

"maybe," he teases.

he laughs when kamanosuke jolts up and fixes him with an unbearable, green glare.

"see if i ever hang out with you ever again!" the theatrical brat proclaims as he climbs to his feet.

it's difficult to talk over his laughter, but he manages to say, "wait, wait– kamanosuke, don't leave me— i'm just teasing you—"

"uhn... don't tease me!" kamanosuke complained.

"i'm sorry. will you forgive me?"

kamanosuke rolls his head back. "maybe... if you get onto your hands and knees and beg!"

immediately, saizō reaches out and pulls him back down. seriously— this audacious kid— "as if."

"you don't know! one day—!"

saizō covers kamanosuke's mouth with his hand. "shh, it's okay," he whispers into kamanosuke's ear.

the red look on kamanosuke's face is entirely worth the pointed headache on the right side of his head from kamanosuke's jab. it's a beautiful shade. not like the one from his dreams that are haunting in their deep scarlet.

"kamanosuke... hey, maybe we should head back now."

"huh? i thought you said you wanted to stay out for at least another hour."

"i think it's too hot. hey, do you want to come back to my place? i'll get you some food— you like fish don't you?"

"sure— wait, you haven't invited them as well, right?"

"no, it'll just be you and me."

"oh! let's go then!"

he smiled affectionately at the redhead pulling him along. kamanosuke is practically jumping with excitement— it's cute the way he suddenly perks up when he hears isanami won't be around. that unnatural hate for isanami is beyond him, but it's amusing, regardless. ( everything about kamanosuke is free entertainment if he's being honest. )

...he won't deny he's slightly disturbed how well kamanosuke seems to navigate them to his house, though. he's only went to his house once before, and those were under unpleasant circumstances for both of them. he's surprised kamanosuke remembers the way, and he's even a little creeped out at how well he seems to recall the route.

...kamanosuke really is a stalker, isn't he?

he might need to sit down with kamanosuke and talk to him about that, but for now, he stays silent. the quicker they get indoors, the safer saizō will feel.

they had only been a block away. a few more minutes, and kamanosuke would be smiling gleefully as usual, and trying to tussle with him like always. such a lively bird; hair tipped in life, and eyes reminiscent of the world— all blotted out by a deep, burning red that he can't escape. not in his dreams; not in reality. this is just a terrible nightmare, but in his core, he intrinsically knows this isn't a figment of his imagination.

he couldn't dream of something so picturesquely perfect, it's horrifying. kamanosuke's eyes were wide with terror, but now they are closed. his limps hang effortlessly, and there's a slight bend to his back that strikes him as so unnaturally natural. he looks like a doll—so pale—never alive to begin with.

he reaches his hand out, and—

...unto death, and nothing beyond, except an endless cycle except living, heat, and bloodstains that disappear from the pavement the next time he opens his eyes but never fade from his mind.

august 14th— it's just another clear day with an unbearable sun overhanging in the sky. just another day— among more than ten thousand. he's lost count how many times kamanosuke has died in front of him. he doesn't even react anymore. his eyes close and he's back at the same time—noon—and the same date— august 14th; not a short time later, he's looking at a bloody body and red hair painted wrong.

he doesn't react when kamanosuke rests his head on his shoulder, though he's only wearing a tank top.

when a white weasel hops to kamanosuke's feet, he doesn't react either.

kamanosuke talks and chatters while aggressively petting the weasel, but he doesn't say anything back.

and when the weasel slips from kamanosuke's grasp, he also let's kamanosuke go.

that lovely, red hair flies wildly, following that swift body.

the light turns green, but not for the lithe boy running across the street.

nor for the taller boy who shoves the pretty redhead out of the way at the last minute.

the light is green for the truck that tramples the sky, but all saizō can see is that dark red he hates the most. as always, it splatters across the red he treasures.

august 14th, at twelve in the noon, awakens that simple-minded fool. the sky is a brimming blue.

"what an ugly hue," a boy that of red says.

the sky does not disagree— how disappointing, he thinks. as though the sky can speak. once, it could. but not anymore. he hums, mechanically moving his arm to his face and wipes away the tears.

"guess i failed again."

that's okay, he'll just try again.

last time was accidental angst.[break][break]

this time it was completely on purpose and i have no regrets. all i regret is the fact that it's 12am and i still have other shit to write. send help.

closing[break]
notes

shhhh what do you mean i'm writing too much kirikama[break][break]

and yes, lowercase is my aesthetic how could you tell LMAO

opening[break]
notes

1. that time he crashes into up-and-coming child actor, kamanosuke yuri

their first meeting is inside a coffee shop— really, his first clue.

he was in the car for two hours at that point, and he was quickly growing restless. when they finally pulled into the starbucks parking lot, he exploded out the car and ran inside, ignoring his mom's shouts of "don't run". he's sure he'll get an earful for that later, but he's too jittery to care.

he runs straight into another person, toppling them over. he hears his mom's shout of his name, but he's far more focused on the sudden pain in his shoulder from a well-placed punch by the person he crashed into.

"you're crushing my legs. get off."

the words are said with such venom that saizō's head snaps up in surprise. he's met with green eyes full of hate— and he's barely nine, so he's completely lost on how to deal with such foreign vitriol. when he gets into high school, he'll have been far more proficient in that realm, but for now, he's a third-grader faced with unpleasant anger.

"i'm sorry, i," he climbs to his feet, "i didn't mean to—"

he's completely brushed off when the other boy climbs to his feet and storms out without hearing his apology.

privately, saizō can't help but think that scowl doesn't belong on such a pretty face.

2. that time he meets famous actor, kamanosuke yuri, at his high school

he's grown, so saizō doesn't recognize him at first. he only figures out that the child he ran into at that starbucks when he was nine was kamanosuke yuri when he looks him up. those green eyes have no trace of that hate he first encountered. they don't promise anything good, though.

as it turns out, he's right.

kamanosuke yuri is a no-good, terrible influence that scares the shit out of everyone in the school—

he's cute, though, and if saizō thought he might have been gay before, he's absolutely certain he's gay, now. the dreams of pale skin pressed against him, lips ghosting over his— they bring a dark hue to his cheeks when he thinks about them, but in his defense, kamanosuke is pretty, and he's a teenager.

it sucks he has such a bratty personality. he leads a group of rascals that play pranks and cause mischief, and if he wasn't an actor with a iron-weight name in the industry, the principal would have kicked him out. but as it were, the fact that kamanosuke yuri attends "our public high school" is enough to keep him from being expelled.

it's not fair at all, and everyone except kamanosuke and his gang suffers.

3. that time when kamanosuke gives him the silent treatment and saizō combusts as a result

he doesn't get along with kamanosuke. kamanosuke doesn't get along with him. everyone knows that and why— kamanosuke likes bossing people around, and saizō prefers to tell bossy people to fuck off. it never means anything good when they meet in the hallway, and it's become something of an in-joke among his friends that sparks fly between them, but not the pretty kind.

he doesn't disagree. he still dreams of red hair and green eyes, but he thinks more about how he can drop-kick them into a jungle with wild animals without getting in trouble as of late.

kamanosuke is still oh-so fucking pretty, though— and maybe it's him, but he swears kamanosuke is wearing makeup these days. he didn't even know kamanosuke had the patience for that sort of shit. it does wonders to make kamanosuke even more lovely looking.

"maybe he's trying to impress someone," mr. sanada once says, to which saizō laughs at.

"as if his highness would like anyone at this school."

he has dismissed the idea at the time, but mr. sanada has always known, hasn't he? goddamn that old man— him and his uncanny perceptiveness.

kamanosuke has a crush. a big ass one. on saizō, of all people. it takes him outright kissing saizō in the hallway for it to click, but suddenly, everything makes so much more sense.

kamanosuke has never played a prank on him. he kicks and shouts and screams, but he's left an invisible bubble around saizō.

he's constantly pursuing saizō— that's why they keep encountering each other so often.

somehow they're always paired up for any group project, and they're always on the same team. this brat— this manipulative, shitty brat rigged the teachers.

fucking hell, that's probably why they have the same classes, and his schedule suspiciously changed at the last minute so that he almost had no classes with isanami at the beginning of his sophomore year.

goddammit, kamanosuke is exactly why he's found it increasingly difficult to spend any time with his friends!

kamanosuke is such a pain when he's in love, and somehow, saizō still has a crush on him.

and really wants to kiss him again, except he ran away the last time, and now suddenly kamanosuke won't talk to him— and out of the blue, he's changed all his electives and classes.

it's so ridiculous, saizō can hardly believe it when he first hears that kamanosuke literally changed his entire itinerary. but now that he no longer sees kamanosuke every day in class, he can't help but feel everything is a little more quiet and a hell of a lot more boring. having kamanosuke always yelling in his ear— arguing with the teacher— trying to pick a fight with some poor, unlucky student— it always annoyed him, but the lack thereof is even worse.

it takes him two months and an intervention from kakei before he finally confronts kamanosuke again.

he drags a kicking and screaming kamanosuke behind the school after class, and after a shouting match that dissolves into a wrestling match that he easily wins ( kamanosuke is neither strong, nor heavy ), he finally spills his long-standing, insufferable crush on the redhead.

privately, he thinks that surprised expression looks so much better than the scowls.

OKAY SO THO so highkey actor!kamanosuke is my thing. i mean, think about it: when they first meet kama, he's pretending to be a woman, and he's damn well good at it. me, i don't think he would LIKE being an actor, but he's told to suck it up buttercup, so he's always acting out cuz' he's got a lotta rage about his situation but no place to really put it in.

closing[break]
notes