御堂筋翔くん || Akira Midousuji (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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deadeye2016-02-10 10:18 pm
furtherforward) wrote in deadeye2016-02-10 10:18 pmhorror depository
That's what it is
furtherforward) wrote in deadeye2016-02-10 10:18 pm
wabermelon
It's not an inconvenience, and Hajime doesn't complain about the weather as soon as it turns. No matter the season, it's good to cherish the weather for what it is - even if it's enough to make you sweat or enough to make you shiver. The Gatchaman presses her forearm to her sticky forehead and settles her feet in the cooler sand, wiggling her toes as she turns to behold the blue sky and sparkling waves.
It's nice.
But she's not here just to appreciate the horizon. She didn't trek along the beachside with a heavy load just to torture herself! Hajime shrugs her shoulder and lets her gentle blue backpack drop to the sandy ground with a solid THUD. Its zipper was never done up, and for good reason: its contents are far too massive to be contained. With a devious sort of upturn to her lips, she holds a staring contest with the backpack until she can stand it no longer.
"Huhu~♪" Hajime giggles, pressing her fingertips to her lower lip nefariously as she drops her bare knees into the cushion of the sand. She eases her hands into the sack with a suspicious glance, this way then that, just to be sure that she's without company. (If anybody were nearby, she'd invite them over. It's not a secret operation or anything!) Her fingertips skirt around the cool surface of her backpack's weighty contents, and she appreciates the gentle ripple of its rind before lifting it out once and for all. "Summer's treat is always the sweetest in the summer! I can't wait to eat...!"
Out comes a massive watermelon and she drops it safely in her lap, and she bounces back with the sheer weight of it. Of course, this is meant to be a fun affair, and she only hopes that company chances upon her on a day as hot as today. Pale brown eyes scan the beach, and it's surprisingly empty... Debtors must all be hiding away inside, huh?
Hajime produces more yet from that modest backpack of hers: a blanket to spread over the sand with a whimsical and colorful print, as well as a dish to set the soon-to-be-cut watermelon onto. It's too bad, to be cooped up inside on a day like today! This is a day people long for during any other season, so it's best enjoyed to its fullest.
She plants herself onto the blanket and dusts her knees off before crawling onto it and reaching into her knapsack once more for the final touch - a knife.
"Oh. Shoot."
She peers into her backpack and confirms that she's short a cutting utensil, and she glances back to the watermelon with wide eyes and turning gears.
At this point, she has a number of options. She could run back and fetch a knife from the kitchen, but she's so far from the employee quarters. Going far away and enjoying a nice, cold watermelon... That's the fun! Alternatively, she could produce a pair of scissors big enough for this massive watermelon, or perhaps even a single blade with her powers. Executed right, it could work. But she flops back onto the towel and imagines how nice it would be, if only Sugane were here with that blade of his. Hajime props herself up again and crosses her legs as she puts her hands together as though she's holding the handle of a slender katana, bringing down the edge of its imaginary blade to the husk, but of course there's no sword there. The watermelon remains whole.
Before she has a chance to work her problem-solving magic, somebody else arrives on the scene. Hajime doesn't even need to turn around to know who looms behind her - he gives himself away with a bearing like that, anyway.
"Akira-kira," she greets him, and the note of enthusiasm in her voice isn't lost just because a watermelon's posing a challenge for her. Her eyes remain on the fruit instead of her company. "So you won't let the sun keep you inside either?"
From behind her, Akira squints at her back and takes in the scene in silence. The blanket. The spotty shade that lets in just a few spots of sun, and the tree whose leaves can withstand the heat of the sun. Her loose-fitting shirt - it's a comfy-looking choice for the summer, with how it billows with the breeze. But most of all, the watermelon grabs Akira's attention.
Hajime speaks again. "It's harsh, but it's the sun's time to shine. It's good for a day like this!"
A day... for eating watermelon. Akira can agree with that, but he has a minor complaint.
The cyclist treads through sand with similarly bare feet, his shoes balanced against the hook of two fingers. Without being invited, he drops down onto the blanket and discards his shoes next to her backpack. It's shady here. There's a lot of space.
And there's watermelon. He licks his lips.
"Why don't you just cut it?" With a loosely postured finger he points at the melon and glances her way. He's inviting himself to the occasion for the sake of food, and Hajime certainly doesn't mind - why else would she buy one this big and heavy and carry it all this way if she didn't anticipate company? She's already watching him, nodding to herself like it's to a tune he can't hear, but she's just considering... something. How Akira could definitely eat more than a single person's share of watermelon. The two of them alone can easily clear even a watermelon this big! Is this... a watermelon date?
A knifeless one, she remembers.
"I know." She knows she should cut it, Akira.
That's all she needs to say for him to get the message: she would if she could, and he thinks the same thing as she did before: a pair of scissors conjured from out of nowhere... That could work against a watermelon, but it would be a strange execution. Tossing it up and timing the snip just right, and the halves would probably end up in the sand somewhere. That's what he deduces, and he turns very slowly back to the uncut watermelon.
Two debtors stare at the watermelon and cycle through methods of solving this predicament, trying to figure out a way to break in, to make it to the sweet, red innards of the fruit. Neither are particularly upset by the challenge it poses. Just contemplative. Contemplative, with a side of drooling on the Akira front. If they can find a way in without running all the way back for a knife, that's preferable, they both agree without saying a word. So they look around them. A sharp rock? No, not a single stone in sight. A large stick to hit it with? Neither of them spot anything like that, either, and the tree above them has a quality of wood that seems so brittle that it could never hope to bust open a watermelon. That's out.
Suddenly, Akira comes up with an idea. He crawls forward and Hajime watches expectantly with a comfortable smile.
"Ohh, you have a plan already!" she punctuates. If he didn't, she'd probably attempt a single blade - that wouldn't be too difficult to attempt. She's resourceful, but she's willing to see what his idea is if he thinks he has a solution. He has his own methods, and she has hers. So she settles down in her place.
Akira glances over his shoulder with heavy disdain and sniffs as he gathers the watermelon up and balances it between his fingertips. "Don't call me that," he reminds her bitterly.
Hajime doesn't reply. She just smiles at him, waiting. Figures.
She watches with bright, clear eyes, wondering just what sort of tactic he might try that could replace the use of a blade. His teeth? Somehow, that's what she imagines first and it doesn't seem like a very efficient method, but with teeth as big as his, even though their edges appear blunt, it wouldn't be surprising if he could cut through a watermelon rind. Maybe he could cut through the rind with a snap of those jaws, but his mouth probably couldn't fit around that watermelon. She'd be impressed if he tried anyway! So she clasps together her hands in wait and hums an accompaniment to his efforts, to which he gives her sort of a sideways glare before going back to his devices.
He defeats her expectations completely when he moves onto his side, and she's left clueless. The all-rounder shifts the weight of the watermelon into one palm before sidling it against one of his skinny legs, and Hajime's face drops as she tilts her head. He doesn't so much as glance her way for approval as he closes his thighs snugly around the melon and locks the swoop of his foot against his shin, his skin protected only by the dark fabric of his shorts. A thought is hardly spared for the integrity of his clothes, mind. He's a man on a mission.
Hajime... doesn't stop him. She watches with fascination as Akira props his head up with his elbow and his free fist clenches in time, along with the grip on the fruit between his legs. His thighs, deceptively slender, bulk up with exertion and that melon stands no chance against the power of this cyclist's muscle. The rind moans and snaps, a crack right down the center and the pressure even quarters one of the halves. Pinkish juices run down its sides and lick at Akira's skin.
But that's quite enough. It wasn't at all for show in Akira's mind - it was to access the fruit. He pulls the segments of the melon away from his legs with haste and places it on the dish before retracting his sticky fingers to lick at them.
That's just something about Akira, she thinks. He just does things as straightforward as he can, and however he can. Her solution was far more reasonable and involved an actual blade, but will she tell him that? She might just let this one be. That's how he solves this problem, and she settles down onto the blanket by crossing her legs and gripping onto her ankles.
"As expected of a hunk like Akira-kira," she remarks, and he can't tell if she means it or if she's just trying to tease him. He grits his teeth and smashes a chunk of watermelon into his mouth and talks with his mouth full.
"What? Grossssss. It was this, or no watermelon at all. It has nothing to do with that."
Hajime hums to herself as her eyes dart up to the treetops, illuminated by the sun. If she doesn't tell him about her blade idea, maybe he'll do something like this again someday! Hajime can't wipe away her smile in the slightest as she reaches for a massive quarter of the melon and snaps off a manageable chunk for herself, splattering watermelon not only all over her shirt and face, but all over Akira's just as well.
"Waaaatch it," he warns her, eyes narrowing. Hajime giggles.
"But your face was already messy," she informs him helpfully, and Akira hurriedly licks at the corner of his mouth. She thinks about how he has watermelon on his shorts and everything, yet he's snapping at her for getting a few splatters on his face...
tthen she scoot over and like it off his cheek. chuuShe points to herself and the watermelon all over the lavender shirt she wears and everything. "We're both pretty messy, now! It's okay, it's okay."
It's okay, and she takes a generous bite out of the questionably cracked watermelon before rocking in place - she's surely kick her feet if she had them available. "Eyummy! Is e'yummy!"
Akira just grabs the rest of the quarter and gets to work on that one next. At least she didn't protest to it being cut. That's what's important.
peanut butter
It's 5:21 AM.
Akira's bed is warm and cozy all the way through with the heat of two, but he's alone in it. He's wedged deep in some dream he certainly won't remember upon waking, but it's dull enough to keep him still, breathing in and out in shallow, even breaths.
It's 5:22 AM, and Akira's door busts open.
"Breakfast is ready!!" calls Hajime's shrill voice in the early morning, just as the sun itself is only beginning to wake. "I wanted pancakes, so I made some! Oh, and if you don't hurry, I'll eat yours, too. Since I'm starving, I'll do it!"
And she's gone again, just like that. Akira's sitting up like a zombie, and he feels like one, too.
In a too-chipper, droning voice, he replies after she's already hopping down the stairs. "O-kayyy."
Akira falls back onto his pillow and within seconds, he's back asleep.
...
There's a pancake in front of him. She didn't say anything about raspberries in it. But there they are, and Akira wanders through the kitchen, plate in hand nearly zoning out. It's pretty typical for many to settle with just a splash of syrup on an already sweet pancake, but Hajime and all of her weird and various habits are rubbing off on the cyclist, he'll have to admit as he's reaching for a jar of peanut butter. That's not something he ever used to put on a pancake, but he's grown to like it. When he thinks about it, it's extra protein, at least.
That telltale red lid is all he needs to determine the identity of the peanut butter. Akira's plate clatters carelessly against the counter top and he unscrews the lid before shoving a convenient spreading knife into the jar and taking a glob out on its blade. He yawns and slathers the spread all over his pancake, but when he looks down, he stops.
It's... blue. Bright blue peanut... butter...
Akira glances at the jar. It reads peanut butter. It's all blue...
Surely, this is Hajime's doing, but he doesn't even bat an eye at it. Akira finishes up and leaves the jar on the counter and joins Hajime at the table...
...
Akira wakes up mere seconds after he fell asleep.
"A dream...?"
It's 5:25, and Akira managed to fall asleep in that time, only to dream about an absurd occurrence that he treats as a normal, regular, common Hajime thing.
Akira heads downstairs to have real, not-dream pancakes. Fortunately, the peanut butter is still a light brown – for now.