bunnyfic 28
It is getting there, slowly but surely. :D First gap bridged...!
T3. The Second and Fourth Guards. M15, 74-M. Watchtower.
( 28: you can run )
"Oh my god-ness, I am soo~ hungry!"
There was a crash from the other side of the designated camping area, making Nozawa flinch inside. But he kept his back turned, resolutely sleeping.
"Oops... oh well, they're still good aren't they?" Hasshi said. "Fifty-second rule. Or was it thirty-five? Either way. Want some, Balcan3000?" And then, there were sounds of eating. And the occasional vocalised 'omnomnom' that Nozawa could only assume was Hasshi's disturbing pet robot.
"Soo..." Sanada murmured from closer -- much closer. The-back-of-Nozawa's-neck-felt-electrically-charged-when-Sanada-spoke kind of closer -- but then again they were sharing a bed after all, since Hasshi had been sleeping in the other one. And though neither was so much a bed as a comfortably arranged pile of blankets, one of Sanada's arms was draped lightly across Nozawa's side, stroking Nozawa's stomach absently, absently... and Nozawa couldn't say he minded sharing too much. "I have a question."
--on the other hand, he did mind enough, and ignored Sanada's statement in a misplaced hope that they might get some god-forsaken sleep. But Sanada chose to interpret Nozawa's silence as something like, 'okay, that's awesome. Keep talking~' and said, "Why didn't we let them take him?"
Nozawa ignored that question too, as well as his own traitorous shiver at Sanada's breath, and also the fact that Hashimoto was systematically eating through all their supplies and if that idiot didn't leave anything for breakfast then there would be hell to pay...
Until Sanada poked him in the side, making Nozawa squeak and curse. Sanada chuckled, almost inaudible. "Hey, Mommy...?"
Nozawa turned over at that, rubbing his eyes just so he could glare for Sanada's benefit. "Why am I the mom?"
Sanada didn't back away though, if anything just curling closer. "Well, you know," he murmured, "social services pretty much just came 'round wanting to take our baby but you said no."
"You're really disturbed," Nozawa told him. But Sanada's amusement didn't budge. "You said no, too."
"Only after you did," Sanada grinned.
"Hasshi didn't know them," Nozawa muttered. "Who'd let an idiot go off with freaks like that?"
"They knew him though?" Sanada said. "And us."
"Yeah, exactly."
"He would've gone with them," Sanada chuckled. "He knew whoever that Tottsu guy was that Kawai started talking about."
"Well if 'that Tottsu guy' really wants 'our baby', then he can come get him himself," Nozawa muttered grumpily, and flopped onto his back to stare up at the underside of the platform above them. He ignored the niggling thought in the back of his mind saying that nobody in their right mind would go out of their way to claim responsibility for Hasshi; he and Sanada had done the right thing. Even if Kawai and Goseki (whoever they hell they'd been) could easily have just carted Hashimoto off no sweat if they'd really wanted, and Sanada and Nozawa wouldn't have been able to stop them.
The other two hadn't been government, but Nozawa could tell they were trained in... something. They had power -- and the kind of confidence Nozawa felt knowing that Sanada was watching his back when they were filching supplies topside... just, multiplied many times over.
Nozawa's brow creased. They were dangerous people to watch out for. Except for how, freakishly, they seemed to be the ones doing the watching...
He squeaked again when Sanada squeezed him around the waist, cooing. "Aww, you're so cute when you're worried~"
Ineffectually, Nozawa slapped at Sanada's arms, before trying to shove at him instead. "Who says I'm worried?"
Sanada just laughed, shoving back until Nozawa punched him and they were wrestling, messing up the blankets and getting all tangled; Nozawa laughed too -- until Hashimoto popped up. Pausing, they stared.
"Balcan says you're having fun without me," Hasshi reported gravely.
"Really," Nozawa said. Glancing at Sanada, he smiled and tilted his head.
Sanada grinned, and turned to Hasshi. "You could've just said you wanted to join in..."
"Well, I--" Hashimoto yelped as they tackled him to the floor, all further protests curtailed by 'you asked for it'.
*
"Hey," Kawai said eventually, halfway back to Takizawa's house. It was a fair distance, on foot. "We should tell them we found them."
First 'them' meaning Totsuka and Tsukada; second 'them' meaning Hashimoto, Sanada and Nozawa. Totsuka and Tsukada were probably still combing under the first quadrant, too far away to radio about Kawai and Goseki's success.
"We should, shouldn't we?" Goseki said. And kept walking.
Kawai stopped. "Okay, fine."
"I'll write up our report, before Tsukada asks, so you can tell Totsuka not to stress about that either."
"Yeah, yeah. Catch you back at base."
"Yeah." Goseki waved without looking back.
It wasn't that he was in a particularly bad mood, but. Forty-five continuous hours underground, half of that spent in nothing but the company of Kawai's voice, searching for a spoilt little monkey...
Now alone, Goseki rubbed his eyes, tired. Some sunlamps and civilisation would be a welcome change.
*
" こんばんは雅史," Miyata greeted. The dog barked happily, darting around his ankles as he closed the front door having just logged in. Done with work for the day, thank providence. "I'm glad to see you again." It wasn't a real dog of course, just a conditional program that manifested itself within Miyata's home scenario, but it was still cute. Miyata reached down and ruffled its long coat with affection.
The same way Tamamori operated out of his blueroom, functional and transient and secured up to the teeth, Miyata's default scenario was this house. It wasn't overtly secure per se, but nobody else had bumbled through the same scenario yet. The white tulips in haphazard rows lining the front garden, the thatched roof and the chimney made it Miyata's own.
Masashi whined, bringing a smile to his face. "Okay, okay. I've got mail, haven't I? Hand it over~" Darting into the next room while Miyata toed off his virtual shoes, the little dog reappeared seconds later dragging an open satchel in his teeth.
Masashi wasn't a permanent fixture within Miyata's cottage, unlike the pictures on the walls and the fireplace across the room. The dog only appeared when Miyata had new messages waiting from certain people -- and only bounded up to him at the door when there'd been contact from one person in particular. It wasn't the most efficient way of scanning one's inbox, but Miyata liked the homey feel.
"ありがとう、ね?" he said in thanks, giving the dog another ruffle. Masashi barked once, before chasing his tail into a wall and disappearing with the impact. Miyata shook his head, turning his attention to the mail in the satchel left behind.
It was in the form of a newspaper today, on the front page some report about the millennium bug being nothing much more than a lot of hot air, and altogether one of the biggest letdowns in tech history. Miyata quirked a brow, but sat down to read the feature article anyway. Since it was written by somebody calling themselves Yuu Takun...
It turned out to be more eloquently euphemised than his own secret ninja message had been, and easily decipherable. By the end of the article Miyata deduced that Tamamori had indeed gone back to the locked forest scenario last night after Miyata had left, met up with Senga and Nikaido, and even gone so far as to meet Takizawa's crew.
And then -- unless Miyata's inner Sherlock Holmes was missing something major -- Tamamori had turned around and come back.
Miyata wasn't too sure about his understanding of that part though, because really what sense did it make? He remembered many an episode of sitting there listening to Tamamori mutter complaints about his code not being able to emulate the phoenix model trick or something, that could automatically bring an avatar back from the dead.
Miyata didn't understand a lot of the tech jargon Tamamori used, but he did get that Tamamori had been working on that regeneration element for years at least. And he also got that Takizawa's people were the ones behind the original system-defying sets of code...
Still, by the time Miyata realised he was smiling, the silly little grin had apparently been plastered on his face for quite some time. His cheeks ached. Regardless of Tamamori's own reasons for wanting to remain independent (Miyata didn't know what they were either, but they probably existed), what really mattered was that Miyata could still see him. Which was something he kind of really wanted, just then.
Materialising a pen and paper, he began to write.
Dear Yuu Takun-san,
Your Y2K article was fascinating. ♥ If you have time, sometime, it would tickle me pink if the two of us could chat further on the issue, over coffee and bagels or something. By the beach? It's your call~ Call me!
-Toshitan
He folded the note into an envelope, addressing it to the contact sequence in the top corner of the paper. The data packet disappeared as he wrote the last digit, and Miyata sat back at the table to wait.
He'd sent the message plainly -- nothing that would toot or whistle, no flashing lights -- just in case Tamamori was busy...
But his dumb grin grew even bigger mere seconds later when an innocuous leaflet slipped from between the pages of the newspaper apparently of its own accord, advertising a twin share getaway. The cove in the picture looked very familiar indeed, and as Miyata picked up the leaflet and closed his eyes and focused his thoughts, his will took him there in a heartbeat.
*
The sand between Miyata's toes was a fine, pristine white that squeaked underfoot sometimes as he walked. It was a beautiful late afternoon.
"Yo!" Miyata waved, grinning.
Tamamori glanced up from where sat, long legs tucked up and an arm around his knees as he drew oddities in the sand beside him. Without calling out he smiled a little hi back, and Miyata sucked in a breath and felt for a moment like all was right with the world.
"God you're pretty," he said, feet stalled where he still stood some metres away.
Tamamori quirked a brow, turning self-consciously back toward the liquid horizon. "What's gotten into you?" he muttered, cheeks pink-tinged in the low sun. "Weirdo."
Miyata couldn't really answer that. As much as he knew that this world was virtual and he'd never actually seen Tamamori before, it... almost didn't matter. Almost. Sure, Tamamori's real face avatar was understatedly gorgeous, but what Miyata really liked were the emotions he could read on it.
The way Tamamori's hello smile wasn't really I'm happy to see you! so much as a soft it's nice you're here now, making Miyata feel right at home in whatever scenario they shared. And he liked how that smile was totally different from the lip quirk Tamamori gave when Miyata said something stupid, which was different again from the embarrassed giggles that bubbled over when Tamamori screwed up something out of his element.
An avatar's appearance could be changed, but little details like that couldn't really be faked.
"Um. Well..." Miyata said, taking a seat beside Tamamori as the other shuffled over. "You really are, you know. I don't think I've ever said so properly before."
Tamamori didn't turn away from the horizon, silent for a long while. "...じゃ、ありがとう," he said at last. Thanks, then.
"Oh..." Miyata smiled, and leaned back to squint against the setting sun. "そんな事言わないで."
*
"Hm," Iida said. And then there was silence.
Some thirty-eight seconds later, Yokoo looked up from his whack-an-errant game when he missed one and quit the application. "Hey?"
"What?" Iida said.
"You hm'd," Yokoo prompted.
"...slow, Yokoo-san," Iida laughed. He searched his temporary history to recall what he'd been considering at the time. "Nothing major: the network is reporting increased activity around M15."
Yokoo raised an eyebrow. "So the kid's finally working at work, or they're getting busy on him."
"The latter," Iida said. "Activity matches the standard observation pattern."
"Increased surveillance."
"Right."
Yokoo shrugged, tipping back his invisible whiteroom chair. "It's not our problem."
"It's not," Iida agreed. "But should we inform 74-M?"
"Of what?" Yokoo opened his game back up, skipping the splash. "He's already aware that government agents and their contacts are monitored, and if he isn't careful enough from that then he should know better."
"Hm," Iida said. And then there was silence.
For forty-three seconds.
"I guess you're right."
"Slow, Kyon," Yokoo chuckled, shooting two errant sequences with pink virtual paintballs. "Of course I am."
*
"こんばんは雅史," (Good evening, Masashi,) Miyata said.
"Ah..." Miyata smiled, and leaned back to squint against the setting sun. "そんな事言わないで." (Don't mention it.)
Following this chapter is set
Pink and Orange Kisses by snowqueenofhoth ♥
T3. The Second and Fourth Guards. M15, 74-M. Watchtower.
( 28: you can run )
"Oh my god-ness, I am soo~ hungry!"
There was a crash from the other side of the designated camping area, making Nozawa flinch inside. But he kept his back turned, resolutely sleeping.
"Oops... oh well, they're still good aren't they?" Hasshi said. "Fifty-second rule. Or was it thirty-five? Either way. Want some, Balcan3000?" And then, there were sounds of eating. And the occasional vocalised 'omnomnom' that Nozawa could only assume was Hasshi's disturbing pet robot.
"Soo..." Sanada murmured from closer -- much closer. The-back-of-Nozawa's-neck-felt-electrically-charged-when-Sanada-spoke kind of closer -- but then again they were sharing a bed after all, since Hasshi had been sleeping in the other one. And though neither was so much a bed as a comfortably arranged pile of blankets, one of Sanada's arms was draped lightly across Nozawa's side, stroking Nozawa's stomach absently, absently... and Nozawa couldn't say he minded sharing too much. "I have a question."
--on the other hand, he did mind enough, and ignored Sanada's statement in a misplaced hope that they might get some god-forsaken sleep. But Sanada chose to interpret Nozawa's silence as something like, 'okay, that's awesome. Keep talking~' and said, "Why didn't we let them take him?"
Nozawa ignored that question too, as well as his own traitorous shiver at Sanada's breath, and also the fact that Hashimoto was systematically eating through all their supplies and if that idiot didn't leave anything for breakfast then there would be hell to pay...
Until Sanada poked him in the side, making Nozawa squeak and curse. Sanada chuckled, almost inaudible. "Hey, Mommy...?"
Nozawa turned over at that, rubbing his eyes just so he could glare for Sanada's benefit. "Why am I the mom?"
Sanada didn't back away though, if anything just curling closer. "Well, you know," he murmured, "social services pretty much just came 'round wanting to take our baby but you said no."
"You're really disturbed," Nozawa told him. But Sanada's amusement didn't budge. "You said no, too."
"Only after you did," Sanada grinned.
"Hasshi didn't know them," Nozawa muttered. "Who'd let an idiot go off with freaks like that?"
"They knew him though?" Sanada said. "And us."
"Yeah, exactly."
"He would've gone with them," Sanada chuckled. "He knew whoever that Tottsu guy was that Kawai started talking about."
"Well if 'that Tottsu guy' really wants 'our baby', then he can come get him himself," Nozawa muttered grumpily, and flopped onto his back to stare up at the underside of the platform above them. He ignored the niggling thought in the back of his mind saying that nobody in their right mind would go out of their way to claim responsibility for Hasshi; he and Sanada had done the right thing. Even if Kawai and Goseki (whoever they hell they'd been) could easily have just carted Hashimoto off no sweat if they'd really wanted, and Sanada and Nozawa wouldn't have been able to stop them.
The other two hadn't been government, but Nozawa could tell they were trained in... something. They had power -- and the kind of confidence Nozawa felt knowing that Sanada was watching his back when they were filching supplies topside... just, multiplied many times over.
Nozawa's brow creased. They were dangerous people to watch out for. Except for how, freakishly, they seemed to be the ones doing the watching...
He squeaked again when Sanada squeezed him around the waist, cooing. "Aww, you're so cute when you're worried~"
Ineffectually, Nozawa slapped at Sanada's arms, before trying to shove at him instead. "Who says I'm worried?"
Sanada just laughed, shoving back until Nozawa punched him and they were wrestling, messing up the blankets and getting all tangled; Nozawa laughed too -- until Hashimoto popped up. Pausing, they stared.
"Balcan says you're having fun without me," Hasshi reported gravely.
"Really," Nozawa said. Glancing at Sanada, he smiled and tilted his head.
Sanada grinned, and turned to Hasshi. "You could've just said you wanted to join in..."
"Well, I--" Hashimoto yelped as they tackled him to the floor, all further protests curtailed by 'you asked for it'.
*
"Hey," Kawai said eventually, halfway back to Takizawa's house. It was a fair distance, on foot. "We should tell them we found them."
First 'them' meaning Totsuka and Tsukada; second 'them' meaning Hashimoto, Sanada and Nozawa. Totsuka and Tsukada were probably still combing under the first quadrant, too far away to radio about Kawai and Goseki's success.
"We should, shouldn't we?" Goseki said. And kept walking.
Kawai stopped. "Okay, fine."
"I'll write up our report, before Tsukada asks, so you can tell Totsuka not to stress about that either."
"Yeah, yeah. Catch you back at base."
"Yeah." Goseki waved without looking back.
It wasn't that he was in a particularly bad mood, but. Forty-five continuous hours underground, half of that spent in nothing but the company of Kawai's voice, searching for a spoilt little monkey...
Now alone, Goseki rubbed his eyes, tired. Some sunlamps and civilisation would be a welcome change.
*
" こんばんは雅史," Miyata greeted. The dog barked happily, darting around his ankles as he closed the front door having just logged in. Done with work for the day, thank providence. "I'm glad to see you again." It wasn't a real dog of course, just a conditional program that manifested itself within Miyata's home scenario, but it was still cute. Miyata reached down and ruffled its long coat with affection.
The same way Tamamori operated out of his blueroom, functional and transient and secured up to the teeth, Miyata's default scenario was this house. It wasn't overtly secure per se, but nobody else had bumbled through the same scenario yet. The white tulips in haphazard rows lining the front garden, the thatched roof and the chimney made it Miyata's own.
Masashi whined, bringing a smile to his face. "Okay, okay. I've got mail, haven't I? Hand it over~" Darting into the next room while Miyata toed off his virtual shoes, the little dog reappeared seconds later dragging an open satchel in his teeth.
Masashi wasn't a permanent fixture within Miyata's cottage, unlike the pictures on the walls and the fireplace across the room. The dog only appeared when Miyata had new messages waiting from certain people -- and only bounded up to him at the door when there'd been contact from one person in particular. It wasn't the most efficient way of scanning one's inbox, but Miyata liked the homey feel.
"ありがとう、ね?" he said in thanks, giving the dog another ruffle. Masashi barked once, before chasing his tail into a wall and disappearing with the impact. Miyata shook his head, turning his attention to the mail in the satchel left behind.
It was in the form of a newspaper today, on the front page some report about the millennium bug being nothing much more than a lot of hot air, and altogether one of the biggest letdowns in tech history. Miyata quirked a brow, but sat down to read the feature article anyway. Since it was written by somebody calling themselves Yuu Takun...
It turned out to be more eloquently euphemised than his own secret ninja message had been, and easily decipherable. By the end of the article Miyata deduced that Tamamori had indeed gone back to the locked forest scenario last night after Miyata had left, met up with Senga and Nikaido, and even gone so far as to meet Takizawa's crew.
And then -- unless Miyata's inner Sherlock Holmes was missing something major -- Tamamori had turned around and come back.
Miyata wasn't too sure about his understanding of that part though, because really what sense did it make? He remembered many an episode of sitting there listening to Tamamori mutter complaints about his code not being able to emulate the phoenix model trick or something, that could automatically bring an avatar back from the dead.
Miyata didn't understand a lot of the tech jargon Tamamori used, but he did get that Tamamori had been working on that regeneration element for years at least. And he also got that Takizawa's people were the ones behind the original system-defying sets of code...
Still, by the time Miyata realised he was smiling, the silly little grin had apparently been plastered on his face for quite some time. His cheeks ached. Regardless of Tamamori's own reasons for wanting to remain independent (Miyata didn't know what they were either, but they probably existed), what really mattered was that Miyata could still see him. Which was something he kind of really wanted, just then.
Materialising a pen and paper, he began to write.
Dear Yuu Takun-san,
Your Y2K article was fascinating. ♥ If you have time, sometime, it would tickle me pink if the two of us could chat further on the issue, over coffee and bagels or something. By the beach? It's your call~ Call me!
-Toshitan
He folded the note into an envelope, addressing it to the contact sequence in the top corner of the paper. The data packet disappeared as he wrote the last digit, and Miyata sat back at the table to wait.
He'd sent the message plainly -- nothing that would toot or whistle, no flashing lights -- just in case Tamamori was busy...
But his dumb grin grew even bigger mere seconds later when an innocuous leaflet slipped from between the pages of the newspaper apparently of its own accord, advertising a twin share getaway. The cove in the picture looked very familiar indeed, and as Miyata picked up the leaflet and closed his eyes and focused his thoughts, his will took him there in a heartbeat.
*
The sand between Miyata's toes was a fine, pristine white that squeaked underfoot sometimes as he walked. It was a beautiful late afternoon.
"Yo!" Miyata waved, grinning.
Tamamori glanced up from where sat, long legs tucked up and an arm around his knees as he drew oddities in the sand beside him. Without calling out he smiled a little hi back, and Miyata sucked in a breath and felt for a moment like all was right with the world.
"God you're pretty," he said, feet stalled where he still stood some metres away.
Tamamori quirked a brow, turning self-consciously back toward the liquid horizon. "What's gotten into you?" he muttered, cheeks pink-tinged in the low sun. "Weirdo."
Miyata couldn't really answer that. As much as he knew that this world was virtual and he'd never actually seen Tamamori before, it... almost didn't matter. Almost. Sure, Tamamori's real face avatar was understatedly gorgeous, but what Miyata really liked were the emotions he could read on it.
The way Tamamori's hello smile wasn't really I'm happy to see you! so much as a soft it's nice you're here now, making Miyata feel right at home in whatever scenario they shared. And he liked how that smile was totally different from the lip quirk Tamamori gave when Miyata said something stupid, which was different again from the embarrassed giggles that bubbled over when Tamamori screwed up something out of his element.
An avatar's appearance could be changed, but little details like that couldn't really be faked.
"Um. Well..." Miyata said, taking a seat beside Tamamori as the other shuffled over. "You really are, you know. I don't think I've ever said so properly before."
Tamamori didn't turn away from the horizon, silent for a long while. "...じゃ、ありがとう," he said at last. Thanks, then.
"Oh..." Miyata smiled, and leaned back to squint against the setting sun. "そんな事言わないで."
*
"Hm," Iida said. And then there was silence.
Some thirty-eight seconds later, Yokoo looked up from his whack-an-errant game when he missed one and quit the application. "Hey?"
"What?" Iida said.
"You hm'd," Yokoo prompted.
"...slow, Yokoo-san," Iida laughed. He searched his temporary history to recall what he'd been considering at the time. "Nothing major: the network is reporting increased activity around M15."
Yokoo raised an eyebrow. "So the kid's finally working at work, or they're getting busy on him."
"The latter," Iida said. "Activity matches the standard observation pattern."
"Increased surveillance."
"Right."
Yokoo shrugged, tipping back his invisible whiteroom chair. "It's not our problem."
"It's not," Iida agreed. "But should we inform 74-M?"
"Of what?" Yokoo opened his game back up, skipping the splash. "He's already aware that government agents and their contacts are monitored, and if he isn't careful enough from that then he should know better."
"Hm," Iida said. And then there was silence.
For forty-three seconds.
"I guess you're right."
"Slow, Kyon," Yokoo chuckled, shooting two errant sequences with pink virtual paintballs. "Of course I am."
*
"こんばんは雅史," (Good evening, Masashi,) Miyata said.
"Ah..." Miyata smiled, and leaned back to squint against the setting sun. "そんな事言わないで." (Don't mention it.)
Following this chapter is set
Pink and Orange Kisses by snowqueenofhoth ♥