Hawaii Five-0 fic: Leeward
Leeward
Chin, Kono; slight unrequited Kono/Chin | PG | 1,000 words
a/n: Set in two time periods pre-series. Thank you to topaz119 for helping me work out a few details and for the read-through. Written for picfor1000 to this prompt
The first person to look at Chin like he's a hero is Kono. She's seven years old and he goes to pick her up at school and walk her home because her mom is working a double-shift.
The humidity's pressing down like the weight of a big hand, sending the sweat trickling along the back of Chin's neck. Haze faintly smudges the sky. When he gets to the elementary school, he spots Kono through the low chain-link fence, her fists clenched as she glares at two boys and another girl.
The kids stand in a loose triangle around Kono, one of them moving too close while Kono takes a quick step back. She looks too tiny in comparison to the others, who appear to be a year or two older. The teacher's nowhere in sight, the gate halfway down the block. Chin's already swinging his body over the fence as one of the boys shoves Kono, knocking her down face-first in the grass.
Scrambling to her feet with an angry noise in her throat, Kono launches herself at the boy while his friends laugh. Her punches to his stomach barely make him twitch -- he smirks and grabs her arm.
"Hey," Chin says. Only that, arms folded, knowing that shows off his muscles. The kids all look up as the boy lets go of Kono's arm as if she's turned to lava.
Chin fixes each of the three kids with a stare and they back away from Kono. He twitches his arms, and they run.
Kono's gone tense, body leaning as if she wants to race after them but Chin puts his hand on her shoulder, stopping her. They walk out of the school playground, Kono pausing to pick up her bag. The heat makes the sidewalk ripple.
At the corner they stop for the light and Chin glances down at Kono, who stares back up at him, her eyes wide with something that makes him feel like he's done something incredibly good, like he's someone in a story. A soft wind brushes over them, finally.
"Kono, we gotta talk about how to throw a punch," he says.
They eat shave ice and then Chin kneels down and holds up his palms for Kono to hit, over and over, until she gets it right.
When Kono's fifteen, she tries to kiss Chin.
She's still amped, riding the high of winning the Girls Longboard that afternoon. Kono loves the water, even the taste of salt, the speed of surfing, the sweet truth of hitting a wave right. One of the competition sponsors hosts a bonfire party, complete with a live band. There's a cute boy teasing her, making jokes about how pretty she is, and she likes him, but he's not as good looking as her cousin Chin, or as smart.
Chin sits on the rocks beside her while she brushes the surface of a tidepool with her toes. Kono watches the ripples break the reflection of Chin's face, pale early evening stars behind it. There are beads of water in his hair, on his neck, because he's just been swimming; his t-shirt is damp, covering up wiry muscle.
It's like surfing, she reasons, all you have to do is get the right angle and the sweet spot of the moment. Her mouth almost brushes his before he jerks away, blinks at her, and says "Kono?" with his forehead wrinkling up in puzzlement and a hint of alarm.
She doesn't speak to him for two weeks after that, gives him surly one-syllable responses at family dinners, ignores the flicker of hurt in his face every time she turns away from him, and why doesn't he understand?
Kono misses him, his teasing, the way he listens. Even surfing can't quell the hollowness in her chest.
Then there's that day down at the pier, Kono's babysitting her eight-year-old cousin Hani and Chin insists on tagging along.
A group of guys shows up, laughing and kidding around, too much roughhousing. They're mainlanders -- some kids on spring break -- in sunglasses and expensive gear. Chin makes a motion at Kono to take Hani and leave.
One of the guys shoves too hard, and his friend stumbles, almost going over the railing until Chin grabs him. But the boards are wet, and the railing in need of repair. It snaps under his weight. Chin goes over, taking Kono's heart and guts and breath right with him.
The haoles stand there gaping as Hani starts to cry. Chin's a great swimmer but he might've hit his head. Kono thinks she saw him hit his head.
She kicks off her sneakers, climbs over the railing, and dives off the pier in her shorts and t-shirt.
As she goes up for air, Chin surfaces as well, a few feet away. He's gasping for breath, winded, but Kono can't see any blood. She swims around behind him and gets her arm across his chest.
"I'm okay, Kono," he says, but he's unresisting, still struggling for breath as she pulls him towards a tiny, rocky beach where they can easily climb out of the water.
They stagger together onto the beach. Kono looks up at the pier. The boys are still there.
"You okay, dude?" One of them calls down.
Chin waves an affirmative. Kono flips up her middle finger.
Only Hani's left, staring down at them. "Stay there, Hani," Kono yells. He nods.
"Thanks, cuz," Chin says, once he's caught his breath.
She settles down onto the rough beach next to him, starting to shiver a little as the wind picks up. Kono wrings out the hem of her t-shirt. "You really needed the save?"
"I hit the water at the wrong angle."
He's been consumed with college, talking about the police academy, the girl he's dating. Chin is drifting away from her, caught in strong currents -- but he needed her save today.
Kono leans until her shoulder brushes his. He puts his arm around Kono, warming her.
Chin, Kono; slight unrequited Kono/Chin | PG | 1,000 words
a/n: Set in two time periods pre-series. Thank you to topaz119 for helping me work out a few details and for the read-through. Written for picfor1000 to this prompt
The first person to look at Chin like he's a hero is Kono. She's seven years old and he goes to pick her up at school and walk her home because her mom is working a double-shift.
The humidity's pressing down like the weight of a big hand, sending the sweat trickling along the back of Chin's neck. Haze faintly smudges the sky. When he gets to the elementary school, he spots Kono through the low chain-link fence, her fists clenched as she glares at two boys and another girl.
The kids stand in a loose triangle around Kono, one of them moving too close while Kono takes a quick step back. She looks too tiny in comparison to the others, who appear to be a year or two older. The teacher's nowhere in sight, the gate halfway down the block. Chin's already swinging his body over the fence as one of the boys shoves Kono, knocking her down face-first in the grass.
Scrambling to her feet with an angry noise in her throat, Kono launches herself at the boy while his friends laugh. Her punches to his stomach barely make him twitch -- he smirks and grabs her arm.
"Hey," Chin says. Only that, arms folded, knowing that shows off his muscles. The kids all look up as the boy lets go of Kono's arm as if she's turned to lava.
Chin fixes each of the three kids with a stare and they back away from Kono. He twitches his arms, and they run.
Kono's gone tense, body leaning as if she wants to race after them but Chin puts his hand on her shoulder, stopping her. They walk out of the school playground, Kono pausing to pick up her bag. The heat makes the sidewalk ripple.
At the corner they stop for the light and Chin glances down at Kono, who stares back up at him, her eyes wide with something that makes him feel like he's done something incredibly good, like he's someone in a story. A soft wind brushes over them, finally.
"Kono, we gotta talk about how to throw a punch," he says.
They eat shave ice and then Chin kneels down and holds up his palms for Kono to hit, over and over, until she gets it right.
When Kono's fifteen, she tries to kiss Chin.
She's still amped, riding the high of winning the Girls Longboard that afternoon. Kono loves the water, even the taste of salt, the speed of surfing, the sweet truth of hitting a wave right. One of the competition sponsors hosts a bonfire party, complete with a live band. There's a cute boy teasing her, making jokes about how pretty she is, and she likes him, but he's not as good looking as her cousin Chin, or as smart.
Chin sits on the rocks beside her while she brushes the surface of a tidepool with her toes. Kono watches the ripples break the reflection of Chin's face, pale early evening stars behind it. There are beads of water in his hair, on his neck, because he's just been swimming; his t-shirt is damp, covering up wiry muscle.
It's like surfing, she reasons, all you have to do is get the right angle and the sweet spot of the moment. Her mouth almost brushes his before he jerks away, blinks at her, and says "Kono?" with his forehead wrinkling up in puzzlement and a hint of alarm.
She doesn't speak to him for two weeks after that, gives him surly one-syllable responses at family dinners, ignores the flicker of hurt in his face every time she turns away from him, and why doesn't he understand?
Kono misses him, his teasing, the way he listens. Even surfing can't quell the hollowness in her chest.
Then there's that day down at the pier, Kono's babysitting her eight-year-old cousin Hani and Chin insists on tagging along.
A group of guys shows up, laughing and kidding around, too much roughhousing. They're mainlanders -- some kids on spring break -- in sunglasses and expensive gear. Chin makes a motion at Kono to take Hani and leave.
One of the guys shoves too hard, and his friend stumbles, almost going over the railing until Chin grabs him. But the boards are wet, and the railing in need of repair. It snaps under his weight. Chin goes over, taking Kono's heart and guts and breath right with him.
The haoles stand there gaping as Hani starts to cry. Chin's a great swimmer but he might've hit his head. Kono thinks she saw him hit his head.
She kicks off her sneakers, climbs over the railing, and dives off the pier in her shorts and t-shirt.
As she goes up for air, Chin surfaces as well, a few feet away. He's gasping for breath, winded, but Kono can't see any blood. She swims around behind him and gets her arm across his chest.
"I'm okay, Kono," he says, but he's unresisting, still struggling for breath as she pulls him towards a tiny, rocky beach where they can easily climb out of the water.
They stagger together onto the beach. Kono looks up at the pier. The boys are still there.
"You okay, dude?" One of them calls down.
Chin waves an affirmative. Kono flips up her middle finger.
Only Hani's left, staring down at them. "Stay there, Hani," Kono yells. He nods.
"Thanks, cuz," Chin says, once he's caught his breath.
She settles down onto the rough beach next to him, starting to shiver a little as the wind picks up. Kono wrings out the hem of her t-shirt. "You really needed the save?"
"I hit the water at the wrong angle."
He's been consumed with college, talking about the police academy, the girl he's dating. Chin is drifting away from her, caught in strong currents -- but he needed her save today.
Kono leans until her shoulder brushes his. He puts his arm around Kono, warming her.