SHINE Survivor Challenges - Part Two
So, some time back I entered the Survivor Contest over here at SHINE. Now, SHINE itself is an umbrella forum for Ouran High School Host Club, but for this seven day challenge we were allowed to pick any fandom we wanted and I, being the nerd I am, chose Tsubasa. x3
So, here they are! <3 Enjoy!
Challenge Four: The Stapler And The Toilet Paper
For The Sake Of Kuro-Sama's Manga
-word count 503-
-
“No, no! Kuro-sama, I don’t want to! You can’t make me!”
“You threw the god damned book in here to begin with, mage. Now, shut up and GET in the dumpster.”
“But that is nasty! And - and what if it gets in my hair!?!”
“Than you’ll learn to look before your throw something out in the first place. Now hurry up before it gets light out and people start looking at you funny.”
Fai sighed and allowed himself to be all but thrown into the green metal container, only to land with a sickening squelching sound that should have been illegally obscene. “Eeeeeeewww! Kuro-sama, this is disgusting!”
“Shut up and start looking for the book.”
Plugging his nose with one hand and holding onto the rim of the large dumpster, Fai began to kick through the filth of degrading food, broken toys, torn tags, plastic bags, and other odd things. “...I’m sorry, Kuro-pin, but I just don’t see it. Maybe I should stop looking - we can always buy you another manga.”
“No. I liked THAT one.” The ninja grumbled, folding his arms and leaning against the grimy wall of the alleyway to watch the top of the blond head bob up and down in search. “Tomoyo gave it to me when we got to Nihon.”
“Ooooooh! I see~ That one was ‘special’ to Kuro-sama because his princess gave it to him and - OHMIGAWD!” There was a thump, Fai’s head disappeared from sight, followed by a loud, animalistic squeak and the clanging, thumping sounds of metal against metal.
“What the hell was that!?!?” Kurogane demanded, hand flying to the hilt of his sword as he looked sky-ward at the dark and foreboding windows above them.
A whimper sounded from the garbage bin. “Kuuuuuurrrrroooooo-wan....There was a rat, and it tried to bite me!”
“And what was that sound?”
“....I threw a stapler at it...”
Kurogane rolled his eyes and, grudgingly released his sword. “Keep looking.”
“But -”
“Keep. Looking.”
Whining, grumbling and huffing for the next fifteen minutes, Fai continued to dig, but find nothing and when, bathed in the between dawn and midnight hue of the street lamp to their left, the mage’s head reappeared, mud smeared and his hair sticking up in an unruly clumps and with a few clumps of unrecognizable things sticking to his bangs. “Kuro-buu, I cannot find it.”
“Huh? Maybe you should look harder.”
“I really can’t find it!”
“Well, then, we’ll just have to -” Kurogane stuck his hands into the overlarge pockets of his trench coat and paused before slowly withdrawing his hand, which gripped the spine of a well-read book. “...Oh.”
Silence.
A flying toilet paper roll zoomed across the alleyway and collided, rather harshly for such a soft item, with the side of Kurogane’s head, causing him to reel backwards and drop the newly discovered manga book in a puddle of murky...well...liquid.
“Why, you little -”
Thack!
“Alright, alright! Just - stop throwing toilet paper at me!”
Challenge Five: The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together.
We Are Kuro-Sama's Family
-word count 1,615-
-
I think the excitement was palpable in the dinning hall when we jumped, Mokona’s excellent sense of direction landing us somewhere between the cakes and the soufflés. My head fell directly on top of bottom layer of the decedent Elizabethan-style cake and I laughed lightly, sitting up on top of the table, only to slide into the crevice that had been made when Syaoran had landed atop of Kuro-wan and the two, with their combined weight, cracked the rich, mahogany table. They were not pleased - at least, Kuro-sama wasn’t. Syaoran looked bashful, and guilty for a second, or at least until there was a gasp, an elated cry of ‘Syaoran-kun!’ and out from the murmuring crowd burst a richly pink dress, all smiles, kind looks and the small pitter-patter of feet on the linoleum as Sakura-chan - er...no, Tsubasa-chan rushed toward us.
First, she embraced Syaoran-kun, and my heart flew out to them and I, myself, clutched a dramatic hand to my chest. I ‘awwwwww’ed loudly, attracting Tsubasa-chan’s attention. She gasped and then flew toward Kuro-sama, embracing him tightly around the neck, squishing Mokona between the bodice of her dress and the dusty chest plate of his armor. Upon complaints from the white pork bun and a slightly disdainful ‘tch’ as Kuro-buro patted her back, the darling little girl that had traveled with the three of us for a little under half of the extensive journey we’d undertaken turned her eyes on myself and smiled.
“Fai-san!” was the delighted cry.
“Oh! It’s wonderful to see you, Tsubasa-chan!” And we embraced.
“I’m so excited you all could come! Thank you! Oh, I’ll have to remember to thank Yuuko-san, too.”
Glancing around, I could see the slightly shocked faces of the people who had yet to meet the three of us - although I’m sure many had heard of the exploits that had brought their darling princess back to them. And yet, there was that slight hint of disapproval at the forwardness with which Tsubasa-chan so willingly touched us. I mean, apart of Touya-san and Yukito-san, of course, who simply smiled and stepped forward to greet us and help us out of the cake.
We, entitled as we were, received the label of ‘honorary guests’ and sat directly to Tsubasa-chan’s right at the elongated table as the banquet in honor of her birthday (and Syaoran’s, too, although nothing was said and only Tsubasa, Kuro-sama and I cast him furtive smiles and head nods) and various gifts were presented from the people of Clow Country. I had long since missed parties; the wine, the laughter, the fancy dresses, and the occasional mishaps. And even though the three of us had no chance to change out of our soiled and dirty clothing, speak to anyone other than each other nor was the jug of liquor passed our way.
There was dancing, that was a sure in for this type of ‘royal’ event, but it felt...awkward. The whole party felt awkward; I sprawled over the table as the last of the cakes (the reserves) were cleared away, our plates as well. Smiling stupidly, as was accustomed and associated with myself, I took to leisurely poke at the loose, bloodstained flap of Kuro-sama’s wrist guard. When he, in turn, turned to me and snarled, I let out a calm imitation of a whistle.
“What?” he snapped, annoyed by me, but I now had his undivided attention - mission accomplished.
“Kuuuuuuuurro-sama,” was the lengthy, drawled out response that practically oozed from my mouth. “I. Am. Bored.” And an accompanied huff, blowing the bangs that fell into my face out of my eyes, making it all the easier to smile at my neighbor in a coy fashion.
“So?” he snorted, looking away - toward Tsubasa-chan and Syaoran-kun who were walking the awkward and choppy steps of a waltz - in a vain attempt to ignore me. “What am I supposed to do about it?”
“I dunno.” I shrugged. The action felt weird against the hard wood of a second mahogany table, but I ignored it, reaching down one hand to tug down my shirt which had hiked up.
Kuro-sama sighed, looking just as bored as I was, although less likely to admit it. “Just wait it out, then. We’re here for the kids, anyway.”
And I smiled. “How sentimental of you, Kuro-sama...Doing something for Tsubasa-chan and Syaoran-kun.”
“Tch. Shut up.”
-
It had been a year - or something close to one of my years - since the four of us had stood out in the rain before Yuuko-san’s shop. Days after days, and world after world. I remember thinking, originally, that some things were uncomfortable; Mokona’s form of hopping - (which was tight, constricted when compared to my own) - the clothing - (which was too light, and airy, even in the hot and constricted worlds) - and, most of all, sharing rooms. I had never had to share my rooms in Celes before. My bed, a whole other story, but those were always someone else’s rooms.
Now, though...Now, it was normal.
“Ah, hyuu! Kuro-sama! Look - these beds are larger and more plush than Sashimi World!” I threw myself, languidly, atop the mattress of the bed closer to the window and rolling. I pulled the blanket over my head, giggling drunkenly. In fact, I only resurfaced when I heard the tell-tale ‘tch’ from Kuro-sama’s direction, and a low groan as he reclined on his own bed. “Didn’t you think tonight was entertaining?”
“No. It was...boring.” He rolled so his back was to me, the mechanical arm resting on his shirtless side at an awkward angle, almost as if Kuro-sama was tentative about moving it. “I’m tired now,” Kurogane grumbled. “Leave me alone.”
“Awwww~ Kuro-boku, what’s wrong?” I hummed, sitting up and letting the blankets on this bed pool around my waist like some gigantic snake. The lumpy, shadowy figure in the other bed just growled. There was no other response and so, nimbly, I pushed the covers aside and sprang from my bed to Kuro-sama’s, tottering precariously on the edge of the mattress and flailing for balance. “Ack!”
“What the fuck are you -”
“Woah!”
Fump!
“OW! GET THE HELL OFF!!”
Rubbing my hip where my side rammed into Kuro-wan’s arm, I attempted to scrambled over his frame. I was having a fair bit of difficulty, however, and as I continued to flail around Kuro-rough took it upon himself to assist. Of course, his definition of assist and mine are anything but similar. And as I fumped on the bed again and rolled off it, onto the ground, I couldn’t stop myself from laughing.
“Go to fucking bed, mage.” I could all but hear the sneer in his voice, and it only made me giggle harder, pressing my face against the cool stone floor for a few moments before sitting up on my knees, digging my elbows into the bed and resting my face in my hands.
“Does your arm hurt, Kuro-sama~?” And I hyuu’ed here, offering a light and airy sense to the otherwise serious question. My brow knit, though, creasing between my eyes, and the languid smile dripped off my face. “If it’s hurting, you don’t have to hide it. Especially from the kids or I.”
“It doesn’t hurt,” Kuro-humble insisted. “Now go to bed.”
“We can get you another arm, Kur -”
“Bed. Go. NOW!”
I huffed, and whined and chewed on my lip and utterly refused to move. Kuro-wan rolled onto his back and pulled one of his pillows over his face. He’s ignoring me, now, trying to do something similar to sleep, even though I know as well as anyone that he rarely sleeps the first night in any country. He even ignores me when I clamber back up onto the bed and nestled in right next to him, removing that pillow before flinging my arm across his upper chest and leg around his abdomen.
I still remember that year ago, where he would have possibly murdered me for such actions, but now - I think - Kuro-sama’s grown soft. I’m not complaining, of course!
“Brush your teeth?”
“What?”
“Did you brush your teeth?”
I can hear the eye roll and contempt in his voice. And I grin, digging my face into his actual fleshy, warm arm, smiling against him skin. “You should always brush your teeth, Kuro-sama. Else they will rot and fall out!” I paraphrased from the dental world we had visited some time back. I had collected a vast collection of these marvelous things called toothbrushes, which were now settled somewhere in Mokona’s stomach... And she was in Tsubasa-chan’s room, snuggling with the princess and I did not want to disturb them. “But, ah well... I supposed one night wouldn’t hurt...”
“You’re annoying.”
“Kuro-sama, is your arm hurting you?” I asked again. This time he merely ‘hnnn’ed and turned his head to the side. And so, again, I splayed across - this time across his chest - and brushed my mouth against the seam where metal was sewn into flesh, clamping down. And under the thin flesh of my lips, I could feel the tension there - this arm was too small, as well - and then I climbed off him.
“Hm?”
“We can see about getting you a new one in the morning.” I told him. “Maybe there’s even a maker in Clow. Or we could talk to Yuuko-san.”
“Hn.”
“Goodnight, Kuro-sama.”
“Goodnight, mage. Go to sleep.”
“...Yes, Kuro-daddy...”
Challenge Six: Nothing is quite as simplistic as plastic pigs and playing house.
Kuro-Sama's Toys
-word count 1,000-
-
Fai’s eyes, wide and a tad to big for his face, widened even then as his cold, baby-fat fingers encircled around a small toy animal. A fleshy pink piglet, as it was. And with his mouth open in a small ‘o’ shape, those aforementioned eyes turned upward to the kind, smiling face and stuttered, “F - for me...?”
Ashura-ou nodded, a pale, spindly hand gripping the child’s shoulder through the thick fabric of his Celestian mage’s coat. “I figured...perhaps you would like some things to play with when you weren’t busy. After all, most of the children around here delight in such toys. Do you not like them?”
“Toys?”
“Yes. Toys.”
“...I’ve never had toys before.” He flushed a bit, looking down and away in shame. Fai felt stupid, having never heard or owned such small things before and having no idea what to do with them now. And so he tightened his small fist around the piglet again before putting it in the pocket of his furry coat before looking back up into the green eyes of his king. “...Thank...thank you...”
“Think nothing of it.”
That was a little hard. In fact, it was very hard not to think of the gesture as ‘nothing’, especially when it was the first time something of this kind, familial and fatherly nature was bestowed upon the small blond boy and he....he felt cold. And tearful. And so he ruefully wiped the back of his hand across his eyes and preemptively sniffed. “T - thank you...”
Ashura-ou’s hand moved from the small boy’s shoulder to his back, rubbing slowly in small circles for a matter of seconds before Fai was bawling, his clear blue eyes clenched into tight wrinkles as the tears he thought had long since dried up, bubbled up and spilled over. He bit his lip, however, and made no sound except for the shallow breaths with a furtive ragged edge. And so the king, decked in his lengthy robes in the customary royal colors of dark blue and white, knelt beside the child that was, in no way shape or form, related to him and embraced him lightly around the shoulders, still rubbing small circles in the small of his back.
Fai, however, simply stood there, sniffling. He did not fist his hands in the kings robes, nor open his mouth and sob openly into his robes, nor did he lean heavily on the other man’s frame for some form of emotional and physical support. And a minute later, his small frame had stopped shaking uncontrollably and, reluctantly, Ashura-ou disentangled himself and gently stroked the child’s tear-stained face.
“There are more in your bedroom. These are farm animals.”
“Farm...animals?”
“Yes. Like the villagers down the road; these are simply small miniatures.”
Fai bit his lip again, wanting to ask ‘how do I play with these’ but figuring that an explanation was too much to ask. So, instead, he sniffled again and said, “Thank you very much...”
-
“No.”
“Kurogane-kun I -”
“I don’t play! I don’t need to! And I don’t want to!” He stamped his foot harshly on the ground and crossed his arms, looking pointedly away from the out stretched hand that Tomoyo was motioning him to take something from.
Tomoyo cocked her head to the side, brows furrowing in the middle of her head. “You don’t want to play house with me? Look, I even have a toy cake.”
“No way! Playing house is girly!” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. After all, who DIDN’T know this? “Tomoyo-hime, if you want to play with me, we gotta play something manly. Like...hunting! Or fishing! But I doubt you know how to play fishing, and I don’t want to teach you.”
The princess’ lower lip trembled. “But...but Kurogane-kun, I only wanted to play. All you need to do is hold the babies while I cook dinner, and -”
“No. No. I don’t like playing sissy things. They don’t make you stronger like....like sparing would!” Where was Souma, anyway...She was supposed to fight him today - again, since Kurogane would not settle for anything less than beating her fair and square (and the last five times, the female warrior had knocked him square on his back without breaking a sweat).
Now Tomoyo’s entire mouth wibbled. “Please, Kurogane-kun...” And she truly looked like the little girl that she still was. Still, if he let that effect his decision, the black haired girl would have him under her thumb for the rest of his life, and no real man was held back by a woman.
“For the last time - NO!” And he turned his back on her.
It took a couple seconds, but Tomoyo burst out in loud, dramatic tears and let the small plastic cake rolled out of the palm of her hand, only to land in the dust of the court yard and roll while she turned on her heel and ran - probably to find her sister and bawl dramatically about their live-in’s unwillingness to play with her. This left Kurogane alone in the court yard, an itch akin to guilt scratching at the back of his neck.
No...no, he did not feel guilty about denying the Princess, it was just...Well...he was supposed to be her warrior, right?
He sighed and glanced around to make sure no one could see him stoop and pick up Tomoyo’s toy. He held the cake in the palm of his hand - it was no bigger than something a doll might eat, and yet she wanted him to sit at a ridiculously small table and feed it to life-sized human baby dolls.
The young warrior allowed his head to hang as he ruefully dragged his feet toward the princesses’ quarters, head bowed in shame and lips curling around words that, strictly speaking, he should not know at this age - especially not with the near royal upbringing he had. “Fuck.”
So, here they are! <3 Enjoy!
Challenge Four: The Stapler And The Toilet Paper
For The Sake Of Kuro-Sama's Manga
-word count 503-
-
“No, no! Kuro-sama, I don’t want to! You can’t make me!”
“You threw the god damned book in here to begin with, mage. Now, shut up and GET in the dumpster.”
“But that is nasty! And - and what if it gets in my hair!?!”
“Than you’ll learn to look before your throw something out in the first place. Now hurry up before it gets light out and people start looking at you funny.”
Fai sighed and allowed himself to be all but thrown into the green metal container, only to land with a sickening squelching sound that should have been illegally obscene. “Eeeeeeewww! Kuro-sama, this is disgusting!”
“Shut up and start looking for the book.”
Plugging his nose with one hand and holding onto the rim of the large dumpster, Fai began to kick through the filth of degrading food, broken toys, torn tags, plastic bags, and other odd things. “...I’m sorry, Kuro-pin, but I just don’t see it. Maybe I should stop looking - we can always buy you another manga.”
“No. I liked THAT one.” The ninja grumbled, folding his arms and leaning against the grimy wall of the alleyway to watch the top of the blond head bob up and down in search. “Tomoyo gave it to me when we got to Nihon.”
“Ooooooh! I see~ That one was ‘special’ to Kuro-sama because his princess gave it to him and - OHMIGAWD!” There was a thump, Fai’s head disappeared from sight, followed by a loud, animalistic squeak and the clanging, thumping sounds of metal against metal.
“What the hell was that!?!?” Kurogane demanded, hand flying to the hilt of his sword as he looked sky-ward at the dark and foreboding windows above them.
A whimper sounded from the garbage bin. “Kuuuuuurrrrroooooo-wan....There was a rat, and it tried to bite me!”
“And what was that sound?”
“....I threw a stapler at it...”
Kurogane rolled his eyes and, grudgingly released his sword. “Keep looking.”
“But -”
“Keep. Looking.”
Whining, grumbling and huffing for the next fifteen minutes, Fai continued to dig, but find nothing and when, bathed in the between dawn and midnight hue of the street lamp to their left, the mage’s head reappeared, mud smeared and his hair sticking up in an unruly clumps and with a few clumps of unrecognizable things sticking to his bangs. “Kuro-buu, I cannot find it.”
“Huh? Maybe you should look harder.”
“I really can’t find it!”
“Well, then, we’ll just have to -” Kurogane stuck his hands into the overlarge pockets of his trench coat and paused before slowly withdrawing his hand, which gripped the spine of a well-read book. “...Oh.”
Silence.
A flying toilet paper roll zoomed across the alleyway and collided, rather harshly for such a soft item, with the side of Kurogane’s head, causing him to reel backwards and drop the newly discovered manga book in a puddle of murky...well...liquid.
“Why, you little -”
Thack!
“Alright, alright! Just - stop throwing toilet paper at me!”
Challenge Five: The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together.
We Are Kuro-Sama's Family
-word count 1,615-
-
I think the excitement was palpable in the dinning hall when we jumped, Mokona’s excellent sense of direction landing us somewhere between the cakes and the soufflés. My head fell directly on top of bottom layer of the decedent Elizabethan-style cake and I laughed lightly, sitting up on top of the table, only to slide into the crevice that had been made when Syaoran had landed atop of Kuro-wan and the two, with their combined weight, cracked the rich, mahogany table. They were not pleased - at least, Kuro-sama wasn’t. Syaoran looked bashful, and guilty for a second, or at least until there was a gasp, an elated cry of ‘Syaoran-kun!’ and out from the murmuring crowd burst a richly pink dress, all smiles, kind looks and the small pitter-patter of feet on the linoleum as Sakura-chan - er...no, Tsubasa-chan rushed toward us.
First, she embraced Syaoran-kun, and my heart flew out to them and I, myself, clutched a dramatic hand to my chest. I ‘awwwwww’ed loudly, attracting Tsubasa-chan’s attention. She gasped and then flew toward Kuro-sama, embracing him tightly around the neck, squishing Mokona between the bodice of her dress and the dusty chest plate of his armor. Upon complaints from the white pork bun and a slightly disdainful ‘tch’ as Kuro-buro patted her back, the darling little girl that had traveled with the three of us for a little under half of the extensive journey we’d undertaken turned her eyes on myself and smiled.
“Fai-san!” was the delighted cry.
“Oh! It’s wonderful to see you, Tsubasa-chan!” And we embraced.
“I’m so excited you all could come! Thank you! Oh, I’ll have to remember to thank Yuuko-san, too.”
Glancing around, I could see the slightly shocked faces of the people who had yet to meet the three of us - although I’m sure many had heard of the exploits that had brought their darling princess back to them. And yet, there was that slight hint of disapproval at the forwardness with which Tsubasa-chan so willingly touched us. I mean, apart of Touya-san and Yukito-san, of course, who simply smiled and stepped forward to greet us and help us out of the cake.
We, entitled as we were, received the label of ‘honorary guests’ and sat directly to Tsubasa-chan’s right at the elongated table as the banquet in honor of her birthday (and Syaoran’s, too, although nothing was said and only Tsubasa, Kuro-sama and I cast him furtive smiles and head nods) and various gifts were presented from the people of Clow Country. I had long since missed parties; the wine, the laughter, the fancy dresses, and the occasional mishaps. And even though the three of us had no chance to change out of our soiled and dirty clothing, speak to anyone other than each other nor was the jug of liquor passed our way.
There was dancing, that was a sure in for this type of ‘royal’ event, but it felt...awkward. The whole party felt awkward; I sprawled over the table as the last of the cakes (the reserves) were cleared away, our plates as well. Smiling stupidly, as was accustomed and associated with myself, I took to leisurely poke at the loose, bloodstained flap of Kuro-sama’s wrist guard. When he, in turn, turned to me and snarled, I let out a calm imitation of a whistle.
“What?” he snapped, annoyed by me, but I now had his undivided attention - mission accomplished.
“Kuuuuuuuurro-sama,” was the lengthy, drawled out response that practically oozed from my mouth. “I. Am. Bored.” And an accompanied huff, blowing the bangs that fell into my face out of my eyes, making it all the easier to smile at my neighbor in a coy fashion.
“So?” he snorted, looking away - toward Tsubasa-chan and Syaoran-kun who were walking the awkward and choppy steps of a waltz - in a vain attempt to ignore me. “What am I supposed to do about it?”
“I dunno.” I shrugged. The action felt weird against the hard wood of a second mahogany table, but I ignored it, reaching down one hand to tug down my shirt which had hiked up.
Kuro-sama sighed, looking just as bored as I was, although less likely to admit it. “Just wait it out, then. We’re here for the kids, anyway.”
And I smiled. “How sentimental of you, Kuro-sama...Doing something for Tsubasa-chan and Syaoran-kun.”
“Tch. Shut up.”
-
It had been a year - or something close to one of my years - since the four of us had stood out in the rain before Yuuko-san’s shop. Days after days, and world after world. I remember thinking, originally, that some things were uncomfortable; Mokona’s form of hopping - (which was tight, constricted when compared to my own) - the clothing - (which was too light, and airy, even in the hot and constricted worlds) - and, most of all, sharing rooms. I had never had to share my rooms in Celes before. My bed, a whole other story, but those were always someone else’s rooms.
Now, though...Now, it was normal.
“Ah, hyuu! Kuro-sama! Look - these beds are larger and more plush than Sashimi World!” I threw myself, languidly, atop the mattress of the bed closer to the window and rolling. I pulled the blanket over my head, giggling drunkenly. In fact, I only resurfaced when I heard the tell-tale ‘tch’ from Kuro-sama’s direction, and a low groan as he reclined on his own bed. “Didn’t you think tonight was entertaining?”
“No. It was...boring.” He rolled so his back was to me, the mechanical arm resting on his shirtless side at an awkward angle, almost as if Kuro-sama was tentative about moving it. “I’m tired now,” Kurogane grumbled. “Leave me alone.”
“Awwww~ Kuro-boku, what’s wrong?” I hummed, sitting up and letting the blankets on this bed pool around my waist like some gigantic snake. The lumpy, shadowy figure in the other bed just growled. There was no other response and so, nimbly, I pushed the covers aside and sprang from my bed to Kuro-sama’s, tottering precariously on the edge of the mattress and flailing for balance. “Ack!”
“What the fuck are you -”
“Woah!”
Fump!
“OW! GET THE HELL OFF!!”
Rubbing my hip where my side rammed into Kuro-wan’s arm, I attempted to scrambled over his frame. I was having a fair bit of difficulty, however, and as I continued to flail around Kuro-rough took it upon himself to assist. Of course, his definition of assist and mine are anything but similar. And as I fumped on the bed again and rolled off it, onto the ground, I couldn’t stop myself from laughing.
“Go to fucking bed, mage.” I could all but hear the sneer in his voice, and it only made me giggle harder, pressing my face against the cool stone floor for a few moments before sitting up on my knees, digging my elbows into the bed and resting my face in my hands.
“Does your arm hurt, Kuro-sama~?” And I hyuu’ed here, offering a light and airy sense to the otherwise serious question. My brow knit, though, creasing between my eyes, and the languid smile dripped off my face. “If it’s hurting, you don’t have to hide it. Especially from the kids or I.”
“It doesn’t hurt,” Kuro-humble insisted. “Now go to bed.”
“We can get you another arm, Kur -”
“Bed. Go. NOW!”
I huffed, and whined and chewed on my lip and utterly refused to move. Kuro-wan rolled onto his back and pulled one of his pillows over his face. He’s ignoring me, now, trying to do something similar to sleep, even though I know as well as anyone that he rarely sleeps the first night in any country. He even ignores me when I clamber back up onto the bed and nestled in right next to him, removing that pillow before flinging my arm across his upper chest and leg around his abdomen.
I still remember that year ago, where he would have possibly murdered me for such actions, but now - I think - Kuro-sama’s grown soft. I’m not complaining, of course!
“Brush your teeth?”
“What?”
“Did you brush your teeth?”
I can hear the eye roll and contempt in his voice. And I grin, digging my face into his actual fleshy, warm arm, smiling against him skin. “You should always brush your teeth, Kuro-sama. Else they will rot and fall out!” I paraphrased from the dental world we had visited some time back. I had collected a vast collection of these marvelous things called toothbrushes, which were now settled somewhere in Mokona’s stomach... And she was in Tsubasa-chan’s room, snuggling with the princess and I did not want to disturb them. “But, ah well... I supposed one night wouldn’t hurt...”
“You’re annoying.”
“Kuro-sama, is your arm hurting you?” I asked again. This time he merely ‘hnnn’ed and turned his head to the side. And so, again, I splayed across - this time across his chest - and brushed my mouth against the seam where metal was sewn into flesh, clamping down. And under the thin flesh of my lips, I could feel the tension there - this arm was too small, as well - and then I climbed off him.
“Hm?”
“We can see about getting you a new one in the morning.” I told him. “Maybe there’s even a maker in Clow. Or we could talk to Yuuko-san.”
“Hn.”
“Goodnight, Kuro-sama.”
“Goodnight, mage. Go to sleep.”
“...Yes, Kuro-daddy...”
Challenge Six: Nothing is quite as simplistic as plastic pigs and playing house.
Kuro-Sama's Toys
-word count 1,000-
-
Fai’s eyes, wide and a tad to big for his face, widened even then as his cold, baby-fat fingers encircled around a small toy animal. A fleshy pink piglet, as it was. And with his mouth open in a small ‘o’ shape, those aforementioned eyes turned upward to the kind, smiling face and stuttered, “F - for me...?”
Ashura-ou nodded, a pale, spindly hand gripping the child’s shoulder through the thick fabric of his Celestian mage’s coat. “I figured...perhaps you would like some things to play with when you weren’t busy. After all, most of the children around here delight in such toys. Do you not like them?”
“Toys?”
“Yes. Toys.”
“...I’ve never had toys before.” He flushed a bit, looking down and away in shame. Fai felt stupid, having never heard or owned such small things before and having no idea what to do with them now. And so he tightened his small fist around the piglet again before putting it in the pocket of his furry coat before looking back up into the green eyes of his king. “...Thank...thank you...”
“Think nothing of it.”
That was a little hard. In fact, it was very hard not to think of the gesture as ‘nothing’, especially when it was the first time something of this kind, familial and fatherly nature was bestowed upon the small blond boy and he....he felt cold. And tearful. And so he ruefully wiped the back of his hand across his eyes and preemptively sniffed. “T - thank you...”
Ashura-ou’s hand moved from the small boy’s shoulder to his back, rubbing slowly in small circles for a matter of seconds before Fai was bawling, his clear blue eyes clenched into tight wrinkles as the tears he thought had long since dried up, bubbled up and spilled over. He bit his lip, however, and made no sound except for the shallow breaths with a furtive ragged edge. And so the king, decked in his lengthy robes in the customary royal colors of dark blue and white, knelt beside the child that was, in no way shape or form, related to him and embraced him lightly around the shoulders, still rubbing small circles in the small of his back.
Fai, however, simply stood there, sniffling. He did not fist his hands in the kings robes, nor open his mouth and sob openly into his robes, nor did he lean heavily on the other man’s frame for some form of emotional and physical support. And a minute later, his small frame had stopped shaking uncontrollably and, reluctantly, Ashura-ou disentangled himself and gently stroked the child’s tear-stained face.
“There are more in your bedroom. These are farm animals.”
“Farm...animals?”
“Yes. Like the villagers down the road; these are simply small miniatures.”
Fai bit his lip again, wanting to ask ‘how do I play with these’ but figuring that an explanation was too much to ask. So, instead, he sniffled again and said, “Thank you very much...”
-
“No.”
“Kurogane-kun I -”
“I don’t play! I don’t need to! And I don’t want to!” He stamped his foot harshly on the ground and crossed his arms, looking pointedly away from the out stretched hand that Tomoyo was motioning him to take something from.
Tomoyo cocked her head to the side, brows furrowing in the middle of her head. “You don’t want to play house with me? Look, I even have a toy cake.”
“No way! Playing house is girly!” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. After all, who DIDN’T know this? “Tomoyo-hime, if you want to play with me, we gotta play something manly. Like...hunting! Or fishing! But I doubt you know how to play fishing, and I don’t want to teach you.”
The princess’ lower lip trembled. “But...but Kurogane-kun, I only wanted to play. All you need to do is hold the babies while I cook dinner, and -”
“No. No. I don’t like playing sissy things. They don’t make you stronger like....like sparing would!” Where was Souma, anyway...She was supposed to fight him today - again, since Kurogane would not settle for anything less than beating her fair and square (and the last five times, the female warrior had knocked him square on his back without breaking a sweat).
Now Tomoyo’s entire mouth wibbled. “Please, Kurogane-kun...” And she truly looked like the little girl that she still was. Still, if he let that effect his decision, the black haired girl would have him under her thumb for the rest of his life, and no real man was held back by a woman.
“For the last time - NO!” And he turned his back on her.
It took a couple seconds, but Tomoyo burst out in loud, dramatic tears and let the small plastic cake rolled out of the palm of her hand, only to land in the dust of the court yard and roll while she turned on her heel and ran - probably to find her sister and bawl dramatically about their live-in’s unwillingness to play with her. This left Kurogane alone in the court yard, an itch akin to guilt scratching at the back of his neck.
No...no, he did not feel guilty about denying the Princess, it was just...Well...he was supposed to be her warrior, right?
He sighed and glanced around to make sure no one could see him stoop and pick up Tomoyo’s toy. He held the cake in the palm of his hand - it was no bigger than something a doll might eat, and yet she wanted him to sit at a ridiculously small table and feed it to life-sized human baby dolls.
The young warrior allowed his head to hang as he ruefully dragged his feet toward the princesses’ quarters, head bowed in shame and lips curling around words that, strictly speaking, he should not know at this age - especially not with the near royal upbringing he had. “Fuck.”