OOC: LOG Fuuka and Shinji
Who: Shinji and Fuuka
What: Fuuka wakes up normal... in Shinji's bed!
When: Saturday morning (July 19)
Where: Shinji's bedroom and kitchen areas of the dorm.
Why: >3
Warnings: Um, cute and awkward and nothing to really warn for.
Fuuka and the other girls were having a sleepover, and it had been a lot of fun until Fuuka woke up from a bad dream. The other girls were all asleep, so she quietly climbed out of her blankets and headed to the door and opened it. She peeked behind her before stepping out into the hallway, leaving the door open a crack.
It was dark in the hallway, and she made her way to the stairs, slowly stepping down them to the second floor. She took a right at the bottom and went into the first door on her left, the room she knew was Shinji-niisan's.
Shutting the door quietly behind her, she climbed up into bed with him, slipping under the covers and curling up against his side, her head resting on his chest. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep, the warmth his body radiated as well as his scent comforting her.
Shinjiro stirred a bit, feeling something crawling around next to him in his own bed. At first he thought it was Koromaru, but quickly dismissed the notion when he remembered he had closed the door and that Koromaru had no way of opening it. He peered down under his comforter, and through bleary vision he made out a familiar blob of blue. He glanced over at the nightstand. 3 AM. At least it wasn't the Dark Hour. He felt Fuuka stir and nuzzle him and smiled inwardly to himself. Poor kid...must've had a nightmare, he thought to himself. He gently placed his hand on her back and closed his eyes again. Just for tonight...he wouldn't mind the company. He drifted off to slumber once more.
Stretching in place, Fuuka yawned. She must have slept in a weird position because she didn't remember being wrapped around her pillow, or even her pillow being this large. She nuzzled against it, hoping to fall back asleep. It was Saturday and she didn't have to get up early, she had no plans, and being back in the past meant she didn't have school. Strange memories were surfacing, almost like a dream, things that felt so long ago, but couldn't have been given they took place at the dorm.
Shinji groaned a bit and shifted in his sleep. Sunlight peeked in from the window through the cracks in the blinds, a single beam hitting him right in his eye lid. He grunted the disturbance away. Fucking sun.
It was probably still early too. He could catch a few more hours before the kids started pounding on his door demanding chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast.
When her pillow shifted, Fuuka lightly dug her fingers into it, a quiet groan escaping her lips. Pillows shouldn't move, or feel quite this solid. And her pillow here should definitely not smell like Shinjiro-senpai.
He felt the small fingers dig into his chest, but didn't bother to open his eyes. Fuuka must have been stirring again. He gently laid his hand down on her back to comfort her, if only to ease her back into sleep so that he himself could get a few more hours.
A hand pressed against her back, skin on skin and Fuuka opened her eyes, meeting the white fabric of a cotton t-shirt. The was definitely not where she'd gone to sleep, and her clothes felt too tight and way too small. Slowly tilting her head, she followed the fabric up until she saw skin, followed that along the shape of a masculine neck, surrounded by shaggy dark hair and up to a chin covered in a light dusting of stubble. It didn't take much longer for her to put two and two together, to realize who's bed she was in. "Shinjiro-senpai?" she gasped.
He groaned again. God dammit, Fuuka, go back to sleep. Just a few more...
'Shinjiro-senpai?' Did she just call him what he thought he heard? His eyes fluttered open quickly and he tilted his head down. "Fuuka?" he asked as his vision cleared.
A blush quickly spread across her cheeks. This was embarrassing and she couldn't quite recall how she got in here. She vaguely remembered her six year old self falling asleep on him once before, but that was in the living room while watching television. Recalling that made her blush even more and she looked away from him, not wanting him to see how embarrassed she was. "Yes?" she whispered.
He rubbed his eyes a few times, looking down at the top of her head. Was he dreaming, or did she actually change back? What about everyone else, were they normal as well? He sat up a bit. "Holy shit, you're back to normal..."
She nodded, quite glad that she was still under the covers, the fact that she was probably wearing whatever the six year old her had worn to bed was likely what she was wearing even now. She knew it would look positively scandalous if he saw her clothed like that, or if anyone happened to peek in and see them. "Yes, I am. I don't know what I'm doing in here."
He sat up in bed now and leaned against the headboard. He ran his hand through his shaggy hair and shook it out a bit. "...I uh.....I guess you...had a nightmare....and you came in here....with me....so..." he paused, "....yeah...."
Fuuka reached out to pull the blanket tighter around her as he shifted to shit up, but she wasn't quick enough and she quickly found her back exposed, the sleeveless pyjama top she'd worn to bed barely falling past her shoulder blades, stretched wide across her small frame. The shorts she'd worn barely covered her ass, parts that should have been covered by a normal pair of shorts, exposed. She gasped and buried her face in her hands.
Completely shocked, Shinji's mouth fell open. He attempted to jump back, half inclined to give Fuuka the privacy she needed and half inclined to keep looking, but stumbled in the process. "W-WHAT THE HE-" he began but was cut short as his back hit nothing but open air and he tumbled over the side of the bed, tangled in his own blankets. He hit the floor with a tremendous slam.
Eyes wide, Fuuka shot up in bed, clasping her arms tight across her chest, though somehow that managed to make things worse, her shirt riding up in the process. "Shinjiro-senpai!" She called out, worried. She leaned over to look at him down on the floor, unaware that from the angle he was at, he'd be getting a rather good look at the underside of her breasts. "Are you all right?"
An incomprehensible stream of curses wafted out from under the blankets as Shinjiro tried to extract himself. His head poked out from the mass of comforter as he looked up at her. He stared for a few moments, briefly taking her in, the word "Wow" popping into his mind every so often but never quite making the trek to his mouth. Suddenly, common sense and reason intruded his thoughts and he quickly threw himself under the blanket, not wanting to embarrass Fuuka, or himself for that matter, any more than necessary. More swears found their way out of the blanket. Those has no trouble making the trip from his brain to his mouth.
Staring down at the cursing lump on the floor, Fuuka giggled. She then looked around for another blanket or anything to cover up with. She spotted his favorite coat across the room, draped across the back of his desk chair. She glanced down at the floor briefly to make sure Shinjiro's eyes were still covered. She climbed out of the bed, but before she could take a step, she tripped over Shinji's leg and fell down on top of him. The sound of ripping fabric filled their ears.
Shinjiro froze. Not that Fuuka was heavy or had hurt him in anyway, she was like a feather to him. What caused him to freeze was the fact that dreadful ripping noise and the fact that Fuuka's impromptu trip had dislodged him more from the safety of the blanket. He stared now at the ceiling, half wanting to look out of sheer curiosity, and half mentally beating the shit out of himself for having those thoughts NOW of all times. "Fuuka," he began in a dead pan voice. "What just ripped?"
"The back of my shirt," she said very quietly, her face as red as though she'd spent all day out in the sun without any sunscreen. She didn't move, didn't want to risk losing whatever coverage she still had.
About a thousand thoughts and mental images flew in and out of Shinjiro's mind at that moment and he felt his face slowly start to burn up. He wanted to start yelling whatever swears immediately leaped to mind, but he held himself in check. All of the men in the dorm were still normal, and he had hoped to whatever God was watching that they hadn't already been woken up by the sound him falling to the floor in a heap. He growled and grumbled grabbed his tee shirt, scrambling to yank it off as quickly as he could. He tossed it in the direction of Fuuka's voice quickly. "H-Here..!" he stammered. "Just...uh...put this shit on...hopefully it's...uh...fucking big enough....or.....fucking...something..." He could tell he was flustered by how often he was cursing, and that did nothing to calm him down.
Fuuka nodded, though she didn't move. "Can you cover your face again?" she asked. She trusted he wasn't going to look, but she felt better about it if she knew he couldn't see.
"Y-Yeah sure...." he covered his face with his hands and closed his eyes just to be double sure. He was thankful for Fuuka's modesty, this way he could hide the massive blush that was assuredly adorning his features. Though he could not deny that little voice in his head that occasionally demanded that he peek. He told it to fuck off quite promptly.
"Thank you, Shinjiro-senpai," she said. She sat up and removed what was left of her ripped shirt before pulling on the t-shirt she'd been handed. It was still warm and smelled strongly of him. She was thankful when the end of the shirt reached partially down her thigh. She wished she was more covered than she was, but at least this was a lot less embarrassing. "It's okay now, I'm dressed."
He moved his hands away and sat up, bare from the waist up. He glanced at Fuuka from behind his messy hair and rubbed the back of his head, his broad shoulders stretching from the motion. "So...uh.....welcome back I guess...?"
"Not the welcome I was expecting," she said, laughing nervously. She tried her best not to look at Shinji's chest, even though she knew it was technically no different than what she'd see at the beach or at a swimming pool. Instead she focused on his face. She noticed the faint hint of pink coloring his cheeks, but pretended not to, knowing her own cheeks were likely the same shade.
"Well uh....surprise?" He laughed nervously as well. He couldn't match her gaze, as every time he did, images of the past few minutes fluttered by his mind's eye. And each time they did he bit back a stream of swears and instead berated himself silently. Though even with the awkward situation, he could not deny the simple fact that he really was genuinely happy to see her back to her normal self. He nervously kept running his hands through his hair, mussing it more and more. "So, uh..." What the hell was he supposed to say to a mostly naked girl that he had just spent the last week taking care of because she had changed into a six year old and had just woken up next to him back in her normal body? Not exactly your run-of-the-mill situation.
"...Yeah," she said. She looked away from him, her eyes taking in the details of his room. She noticed the pictures on the wall, and part of her thought it was odd they weren't sunbleached and old looking. She'd drawn them when she was six, after all, but that was here and right now, not ten years ago like it would have been in any normal situation.
"I always wondered if you'd actually hung them up." The words that came out of her mouth surprised her because they felt odd given her knowledge of the situation, though the fact was, the memories made in the last week were ones that she'd cherished for the last ten years without even realizing it. This event made it obvious that time probably wasn't something that should be messed with frequently, but she had a sneaking suspicion that whatever had caused this time alteration wasn't something they'd seen the last of.
He glanced up at the drawings and smiled warmly, though absentmindedly. "Heh...yeah...probably one of the cutest things ever...I loved your little masterpieces...." He paused, realizing what had just come out of his mouth sent a jolt through him. He cleared his throat quickly and rubbed his neck. "I mean....you know....s'just something I felt like doing..."
Fuuka looked down at her lap and blushed. "Of course, Shinjiro-senpai. Thank you for treasuring them."
He groaned a bit out of embarrassment, silence filling the room. "Shinji." he stated flatly a few moments later.
She blushed even more. No boy had ever asked her to call him by name so personally as that. It was embarrassing, but also sweet. "Shinji," she said quietly, testing it out and it felt less odd to her than she thought it would, but she mentally added a '-niisan' to the end of it and it settled more easily. It was something she'd called him before, and she supposed she could eventually say it with ease.
He stood slowly and stretched. "Yeah....that's...uh....that's much better....." Hearing someone other than Aki and Mitsuru call him "Shinji" felt odd at first...but it was a welcome change nonetheless. The warmth he heard in Fuuka's voice when she said his name was somehow relaxing. Like he could be more at ease with her than most others. He smiled a bit as he stretched. "You should...uh....maybe...get back to your room before it gets too late....." he muttered as he scratched at the slight stubble on his cheek.
"I suppose it might look odd if someone saw me returning to my room dressed like this. I wouldn't want either of us to get into trouble," she said, pausing a moment before saying his name again, "Shinji." She stood up and carefully avoided looking at him, too embarrassed at the idea of seeing whatever underwear he was wearing in full view. It felt too personal. Even more personal than calling him Shinji. She walked over to the door, and opened it, peeking out into the hallway to make sure the coast was clear.
"You can....uh.....you can...keep that shirt...or something....I've...got like a whole bunch of them...that are like...the fucking same....or something." Good work, Shinji, that was like the dumbest thing you've ever fucking said. Why was he getting so flustered by her presence? For that matter, why the hell couldn't he bring himself to look at her wearing nothing more than his shirt? He decided that this past week was too goddamn confusing and decided to worry about it later. "I was...uh....going to make pancakes for breakfast....after I got dressed, I mean. Do you.....y'know....wanna help....?"
"Thank you, Shinji," she said, not turning around to look at him, her face and neck completely flushed, and she wouldn't be surprised if the color had spread elsewhere. "I'd love to help." She slipped out the door and before closing it behind her, she added, "I'll see you downstairs in a few minutes." She looked around the hall quickly before rushing up the stairs and to her room. Her heart racing, she leaned back against the closed door to catch her breath.
Shinji groaned and headed to his closet. As he dug through his clothes for something to put on, he silently thanked Mitsuru for taking him shopping those few weeks ago. At least now he had more than a couple of pieces of sparse clothing to wear. And for the first time, he found himself carefully considering what to dress in, as if it would matter to someone else other than him. After a few minutes, dressed in some nice slacks and a black shirt, he slipped his cap onto his head and headed downstairs. Somehow, he felt, things were just getting more interesting by the day around here.
After a few moments, Fuuka had calmed down enough to make her way to her closet, where she looked through trying to decide what to wear. She didn't want to dress too nice, but she didn't want to look bad either. Part of her didn't want to remove the shirt she was now wearing, the shirt Shinji had told her she could keep, but it was long and not something she should wear where the others would see.
She finally settled on a simple sundress, one that wouldn't look out of place from what she normally wore on Sundays. She changed then spread the shirt out over her pillow, hoping to surround herself in his scent that night. She'd already been developing a crush on Shinji and this past week had managed to intensify that, and the past however long it was this morning had as well. She blushed and ran her fingers through her hair before heading downstairs to the kitchen.
He was already busy at work, pulling ingredients from the shelves, pulling out the necessary utensils and pans. There was a bit of a bounce in his step this morning for some reason, and he welcomed it. He turned to regard Fuuka as she walked in, and smiled a bit. "That's....uh.....a nice dress." He glanced over to the table, where Fuuka's easy bake oven and special apron that she had worn through the week lay neatly folded. "Guess that won't fit you now....eh?"
"Thank you," she said. She followed his eyes over to the table and blushed, "No, I suppose it won't."
"S'alright" he began. "Hold onto it...if you ever have kids one day you can let them use it when they help you in the kitchen." He turned back to the counter top, grabbing two eggs deftly and cracking them on the side of a metal bowl, sliding them open quickly and tossing the shells into the trash.
"Of course," she nodded, deciding she'd take it up to her room after breakfast. She grabbed the apron she normally used and pulled it on, tying it around her waist as she walked over to Shinji. He was more skilled in the kitchen than she'd ever been, and watching him crack the eggs was surprisingly fascinating. She would have been meticulous about it and would still have managed to get eggshell in the bowl.
"Chocolate chip pancakes alright by you?" He asked as he poured the pancake mix into the bowl with the egg. Pulling a whisk from a nearby drawer he started to beat the batter quickly.
"I haven't had those in a while." Chocolate sounded really good, and a lot better than plain pancakes.
"Alright then, mind getting me the chocolate chi-" he jumped back a bit as some batter flew from the bowl and hit him on the nose.
Fuuka giggled and reached up to wipe away the batter before turning toward the cabinet, wiping her finger on her apron, "Sure thing." She grabbed the chocolate chips and headed back to Shinji.
He blushed at her touch, but didn't shy away from it. Instead, he watched her as she moved away. His eyes lingered on her for a few moments before he realized he was staring. He quickly went back to mixing the batter, keeping his head low to try and hide the burning sensation he felt in his cheeks. "Uh...thanks..."
"You're welcome," she said. She opened the bag and started pouring them in slowly as Shinji mixed. "Tell me when it's enough."
As he mixed he occasionally glanced up to look at her. The more he saw her, the more he realized how pretty she was. It was hard concentrating on what he was doing while she was in such close proximity to him. The whisk almost got away from him a few times before he finally managed to murmur "Okay...s'enough now."
Fuuka stopped pouring the chocolate chips into the batter, quickly noticing that there were a lot in there. "Well, at least we won't need any syrup," she said with a laugh.
His face flushed more. C'mon, Shinji pull it together. It wasn't like you to make such a stupid mistake while cooking. He laughed nervously anyway, "Guess I....haven't made these in awhile....hope you uh....don't mind." He cleared his throat. "This...uh...should be good for now....why don't.....why don't you start cooking them....I'll uh...get the table set for us..."
"I don't mind," she said quietly, the blush returning to her cheeks. She turned on the stove and sprayed the pan with cooking spray, she wasn't sure if she'd sprayed it enough, but she figured it should be okay. She added a cup of batter to the pan when it heated up enough.
He went to the cupboard and pulled out two plates and forks and knives, and set them on the table across from one another. He then pulled two glasses from the shelf and set them as well. He went to the fridge and pulled out some milk and juice, not sure which Fuuka wanted, and set them on the table as well. Every so often, he'd glance at Fuuka out of the corner of his eye, watching her as she cooked and inwardly smiling to himself.
Fuuka slid the spatula under the first pancake and flipped it over, relieved that it moved easily, though she'd not quite turned it over in time, and it was slightly burnt. She sighed, but didn't give up, knowing that even slightly burnt was an improvement.
Shinji walked over to her and stood behind her, peeking over her shoulder. "How's it going?"
"Oh!" she said. "You startled me." She'd jumped slightly when he'd spoken, the pancake sliding haphazardly in the pan.
"Hey," he started. "Let me show you how to flip without a spatula. Here." He placed his hand over hers on the handle of the pan, and made her lift it. He shook the pan a bit, guiding the pancake to the edge, then flipped his wrist and hers at the same time, causing the pancake to jump and flip in midair. He helped her to quickly guide the pan under it to catch it. "See? S'not too hard."
Fuuka blushed, glad that Shinji couldn't see her face from where he was standing. She tilted the pan to pour the finished pancake onto the serving plate. Adding a bit more cooking spray, she set the pan on the stove again, and poured another cup of batter into it. She waited for the edges of the pancake to start bubbling before trying to flip it. Nervous because Shinji was still right there, she put too much behind it and the pancake went flying over her head...
He wasn't even paying attention. He knew he should have been, but he wasn't. His mind had wandered and he felt...comfortable. Something about Fuuka made him feel that way, but he awoke from his trance with a jolt when a hot, runny, half cooked pancaked plopped dead on his head, directly on his cap. He blinked a few times half in confusion, half in surprise as batter began running down his face and dripping from his nose.
Dropping the pan to the stove, she turned around and gasped. "I'm so sorry, Shinji. I..."
He snorted and let out a deep, warm laugh. He couldn't help himself. He didn't care about the damn pancake or the mess on his favorite hat. He honestly didn't care about anything. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he could afford a good, honest laugh. Somehow, all of his inner demons seemed so insignificant just then. His shoulders felt lighter. He felt warmer, and not just because hot batter was running down his features. He continued to laugh, a large smile on his face.
Fuuka sighed in relief when she saw Shinji wasn't upset or in pain. She turned around to grab a towel off the counter before facing Shinji again. "Here," she said, holding it out.
He was still laughing, and at the same time, licking the batter that had dripped down to his lips. "You know..." he started as he continued chuckling, "this is really good!" He started laughing again. He felt something that he hadn't felt in a very long time just then: Happiness.
"It's not even fully cooked," she said, laughing. She stepped closer and unfolded the towel. lifting up onto the balls of her feet, she reached up and began to wipe away the pancake, blushing all the while.
He kept laughing, even while she cleaned his face. God dammit, laughing felt good. As he settled down, he smiled warmly at her. "Doesn't matter...still tastes good to me regardless, Fuuka..."
She ducked her head and turned around. "I ought to try again," she said, setting the towel on the counter and adding more batter to the pan.
"Want me to help you this time?" he asked as he removed his cap and set it on the counter. He'd have to remember to wash it later.
"Please..." The pancake edge began to bubble and she turned to look at Shinji, "Now?"
He leaned against the counter, folding his arms and smiling. He nodded once. "Now."
She gave the pan another shake, the pancake flipping up into the air. She moved the pan to catch it, but it hit the edge, and half landed on the floor instead of in the pan.
He laughed a bit and smiled. "That's okay...keep trying, you're getting better already."
When the pancake finished cooking, she tipped it onto the plate and tried for one more. It was the last of the batter and she hoped she didn't mess it up too bad. When it was time, she gave another shake and flipped the pancake. She squeezed her eyes shut as it started to fall, too nervous to look. It landed almost perfectly, the batter smearing along the edge of the pan. She peeked out of one eye before opening them both and smiled.
He grinned at her. "See? Told you that you could do it, didn't I? I knew you had it in you."
"Thank you... Shinji." When the pancake finished, she slid it onto the serving plate, then turned off the stove and set the pan on another burner to cool.
"Come on, let's enjoy the quiet before everyone else wakes up and we have to start getting back to our normal lives." He took the serving plate and headed over to the table, serving Fuuka, and then himself.
"Let's." She followed him to the table and took a seat. Getting back to her normal life sounded good, she only hoped that not everything would go back to how it had been before.
What: Fuuka wakes up normal... in Shinji's bed!
When: Saturday morning (July 19)
Where: Shinji's bedroom and kitchen areas of the dorm.
Why: >3
Warnings: Um, cute and awkward and nothing to really warn for.
Fuuka and the other girls were having a sleepover, and it had been a lot of fun until Fuuka woke up from a bad dream. The other girls were all asleep, so she quietly climbed out of her blankets and headed to the door and opened it. She peeked behind her before stepping out into the hallway, leaving the door open a crack.
It was dark in the hallway, and she made her way to the stairs, slowly stepping down them to the second floor. She took a right at the bottom and went into the first door on her left, the room she knew was Shinji-niisan's.
Shutting the door quietly behind her, she climbed up into bed with him, slipping under the covers and curling up against his side, her head resting on his chest. It didn't take long for her to fall asleep, the warmth his body radiated as well as his scent comforting her.
Shinjiro stirred a bit, feeling something crawling around next to him in his own bed. At first he thought it was Koromaru, but quickly dismissed the notion when he remembered he had closed the door and that Koromaru had no way of opening it. He peered down under his comforter, and through bleary vision he made out a familiar blob of blue. He glanced over at the nightstand. 3 AM. At least it wasn't the Dark Hour. He felt Fuuka stir and nuzzle him and smiled inwardly to himself. Poor kid...must've had a nightmare, he thought to himself. He gently placed his hand on her back and closed his eyes again. Just for tonight...he wouldn't mind the company. He drifted off to slumber once more.
Stretching in place, Fuuka yawned. She must have slept in a weird position because she didn't remember being wrapped around her pillow, or even her pillow being this large. She nuzzled against it, hoping to fall back asleep. It was Saturday and she didn't have to get up early, she had no plans, and being back in the past meant she didn't have school. Strange memories were surfacing, almost like a dream, things that felt so long ago, but couldn't have been given they took place at the dorm.
Shinji groaned a bit and shifted in his sleep. Sunlight peeked in from the window through the cracks in the blinds, a single beam hitting him right in his eye lid. He grunted the disturbance away. Fucking sun.
It was probably still early too. He could catch a few more hours before the kids started pounding on his door demanding chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast.
When her pillow shifted, Fuuka lightly dug her fingers into it, a quiet groan escaping her lips. Pillows shouldn't move, or feel quite this solid. And her pillow here should definitely not smell like Shinjiro-senpai.
He felt the small fingers dig into his chest, but didn't bother to open his eyes. Fuuka must have been stirring again. He gently laid his hand down on her back to comfort her, if only to ease her back into sleep so that he himself could get a few more hours.
A hand pressed against her back, skin on skin and Fuuka opened her eyes, meeting the white fabric of a cotton t-shirt. The was definitely not where she'd gone to sleep, and her clothes felt too tight and way too small. Slowly tilting her head, she followed the fabric up until she saw skin, followed that along the shape of a masculine neck, surrounded by shaggy dark hair and up to a chin covered in a light dusting of stubble. It didn't take much longer for her to put two and two together, to realize who's bed she was in. "Shinjiro-senpai?" she gasped.
He groaned again. God dammit, Fuuka, go back to sleep. Just a few more...
'Shinjiro-senpai?' Did she just call him what he thought he heard? His eyes fluttered open quickly and he tilted his head down. "Fuuka?" he asked as his vision cleared.
A blush quickly spread across her cheeks. This was embarrassing and she couldn't quite recall how she got in here. She vaguely remembered her six year old self falling asleep on him once before, but that was in the living room while watching television. Recalling that made her blush even more and she looked away from him, not wanting him to see how embarrassed she was. "Yes?" she whispered.
He rubbed his eyes a few times, looking down at the top of her head. Was he dreaming, or did she actually change back? What about everyone else, were they normal as well? He sat up a bit. "Holy shit, you're back to normal..."
She nodded, quite glad that she was still under the covers, the fact that she was probably wearing whatever the six year old her had worn to bed was likely what she was wearing even now. She knew it would look positively scandalous if he saw her clothed like that, or if anyone happened to peek in and see them. "Yes, I am. I don't know what I'm doing in here."
He sat up in bed now and leaned against the headboard. He ran his hand through his shaggy hair and shook it out a bit. "...I uh.....I guess you...had a nightmare....and you came in here....with me....so..." he paused, "....yeah...."
Fuuka reached out to pull the blanket tighter around her as he shifted to shit up, but she wasn't quick enough and she quickly found her back exposed, the sleeveless pyjama top she'd worn to bed barely falling past her shoulder blades, stretched wide across her small frame. The shorts she'd worn barely covered her ass, parts that should have been covered by a normal pair of shorts, exposed. She gasped and buried her face in her hands.
Completely shocked, Shinji's mouth fell open. He attempted to jump back, half inclined to give Fuuka the privacy she needed and half inclined to keep looking, but stumbled in the process. "W-WHAT THE HE-" he began but was cut short as his back hit nothing but open air and he tumbled over the side of the bed, tangled in his own blankets. He hit the floor with a tremendous slam.
Eyes wide, Fuuka shot up in bed, clasping her arms tight across her chest, though somehow that managed to make things worse, her shirt riding up in the process. "Shinjiro-senpai!" She called out, worried. She leaned over to look at him down on the floor, unaware that from the angle he was at, he'd be getting a rather good look at the underside of her breasts. "Are you all right?"
An incomprehensible stream of curses wafted out from under the blankets as Shinjiro tried to extract himself. His head poked out from the mass of comforter as he looked up at her. He stared for a few moments, briefly taking her in, the word "Wow" popping into his mind every so often but never quite making the trek to his mouth. Suddenly, common sense and reason intruded his thoughts and he quickly threw himself under the blanket, not wanting to embarrass Fuuka, or himself for that matter, any more than necessary. More swears found their way out of the blanket. Those has no trouble making the trip from his brain to his mouth.
Staring down at the cursing lump on the floor, Fuuka giggled. She then looked around for another blanket or anything to cover up with. She spotted his favorite coat across the room, draped across the back of his desk chair. She glanced down at the floor briefly to make sure Shinjiro's eyes were still covered. She climbed out of the bed, but before she could take a step, she tripped over Shinji's leg and fell down on top of him. The sound of ripping fabric filled their ears.
Shinjiro froze. Not that Fuuka was heavy or had hurt him in anyway, she was like a feather to him. What caused him to freeze was the fact that dreadful ripping noise and the fact that Fuuka's impromptu trip had dislodged him more from the safety of the blanket. He stared now at the ceiling, half wanting to look out of sheer curiosity, and half mentally beating the shit out of himself for having those thoughts NOW of all times. "Fuuka," he began in a dead pan voice. "What just ripped?"
"The back of my shirt," she said very quietly, her face as red as though she'd spent all day out in the sun without any sunscreen. She didn't move, didn't want to risk losing whatever coverage she still had.
About a thousand thoughts and mental images flew in and out of Shinjiro's mind at that moment and he felt his face slowly start to burn up. He wanted to start yelling whatever swears immediately leaped to mind, but he held himself in check. All of the men in the dorm were still normal, and he had hoped to whatever God was watching that they hadn't already been woken up by the sound him falling to the floor in a heap. He growled and grumbled grabbed his tee shirt, scrambling to yank it off as quickly as he could. He tossed it in the direction of Fuuka's voice quickly. "H-Here..!" he stammered. "Just...uh...put this shit on...hopefully it's...uh...fucking big enough....or.....fucking...something..." He could tell he was flustered by how often he was cursing, and that did nothing to calm him down.
Fuuka nodded, though she didn't move. "Can you cover your face again?" she asked. She trusted he wasn't going to look, but she felt better about it if she knew he couldn't see.
"Y-Yeah sure...." he covered his face with his hands and closed his eyes just to be double sure. He was thankful for Fuuka's modesty, this way he could hide the massive blush that was assuredly adorning his features. Though he could not deny that little voice in his head that occasionally demanded that he peek. He told it to fuck off quite promptly.
"Thank you, Shinjiro-senpai," she said. She sat up and removed what was left of her ripped shirt before pulling on the t-shirt she'd been handed. It was still warm and smelled strongly of him. She was thankful when the end of the shirt reached partially down her thigh. She wished she was more covered than she was, but at least this was a lot less embarrassing. "It's okay now, I'm dressed."
He moved his hands away and sat up, bare from the waist up. He glanced at Fuuka from behind his messy hair and rubbed the back of his head, his broad shoulders stretching from the motion. "So...uh.....welcome back I guess...?"
"Not the welcome I was expecting," she said, laughing nervously. She tried her best not to look at Shinji's chest, even though she knew it was technically no different than what she'd see at the beach or at a swimming pool. Instead she focused on his face. She noticed the faint hint of pink coloring his cheeks, but pretended not to, knowing her own cheeks were likely the same shade.
"Well uh....surprise?" He laughed nervously as well. He couldn't match her gaze, as every time he did, images of the past few minutes fluttered by his mind's eye. And each time they did he bit back a stream of swears and instead berated himself silently. Though even with the awkward situation, he could not deny the simple fact that he really was genuinely happy to see her back to her normal self. He nervously kept running his hands through his hair, mussing it more and more. "So, uh..." What the hell was he supposed to say to a mostly naked girl that he had just spent the last week taking care of because she had changed into a six year old and had just woken up next to him back in her normal body? Not exactly your run-of-the-mill situation.
"...Yeah," she said. She looked away from him, her eyes taking in the details of his room. She noticed the pictures on the wall, and part of her thought it was odd they weren't sunbleached and old looking. She'd drawn them when she was six, after all, but that was here and right now, not ten years ago like it would have been in any normal situation.
"I always wondered if you'd actually hung them up." The words that came out of her mouth surprised her because they felt odd given her knowledge of the situation, though the fact was, the memories made in the last week were ones that she'd cherished for the last ten years without even realizing it. This event made it obvious that time probably wasn't something that should be messed with frequently, but she had a sneaking suspicion that whatever had caused this time alteration wasn't something they'd seen the last of.
He glanced up at the drawings and smiled warmly, though absentmindedly. "Heh...yeah...probably one of the cutest things ever...I loved your little masterpieces...." He paused, realizing what had just come out of his mouth sent a jolt through him. He cleared his throat quickly and rubbed his neck. "I mean....you know....s'just something I felt like doing..."
Fuuka looked down at her lap and blushed. "Of course, Shinjiro-senpai. Thank you for treasuring them."
He groaned a bit out of embarrassment, silence filling the room. "Shinji." he stated flatly a few moments later.
She blushed even more. No boy had ever asked her to call him by name so personally as that. It was embarrassing, but also sweet. "Shinji," she said quietly, testing it out and it felt less odd to her than she thought it would, but she mentally added a '-niisan' to the end of it and it settled more easily. It was something she'd called him before, and she supposed she could eventually say it with ease.
He stood slowly and stretched. "Yeah....that's...uh....that's much better....." Hearing someone other than Aki and Mitsuru call him "Shinji" felt odd at first...but it was a welcome change nonetheless. The warmth he heard in Fuuka's voice when she said his name was somehow relaxing. Like he could be more at ease with her than most others. He smiled a bit as he stretched. "You should...uh....maybe...get back to your room before it gets too late....." he muttered as he scratched at the slight stubble on his cheek.
"I suppose it might look odd if someone saw me returning to my room dressed like this. I wouldn't want either of us to get into trouble," she said, pausing a moment before saying his name again, "Shinji." She stood up and carefully avoided looking at him, too embarrassed at the idea of seeing whatever underwear he was wearing in full view. It felt too personal. Even more personal than calling him Shinji. She walked over to the door, and opened it, peeking out into the hallway to make sure the coast was clear.
"You can....uh.....you can...keep that shirt...or something....I've...got like a whole bunch of them...that are like...the fucking same....or something." Good work, Shinji, that was like the dumbest thing you've ever fucking said. Why was he getting so flustered by her presence? For that matter, why the hell couldn't he bring himself to look at her wearing nothing more than his shirt? He decided that this past week was too goddamn confusing and decided to worry about it later. "I was...uh....going to make pancakes for breakfast....after I got dressed, I mean. Do you.....y'know....wanna help....?"
"Thank you, Shinji," she said, not turning around to look at him, her face and neck completely flushed, and she wouldn't be surprised if the color had spread elsewhere. "I'd love to help." She slipped out the door and before closing it behind her, she added, "I'll see you downstairs in a few minutes." She looked around the hall quickly before rushing up the stairs and to her room. Her heart racing, she leaned back against the closed door to catch her breath.
Shinji groaned and headed to his closet. As he dug through his clothes for something to put on, he silently thanked Mitsuru for taking him shopping those few weeks ago. At least now he had more than a couple of pieces of sparse clothing to wear. And for the first time, he found himself carefully considering what to dress in, as if it would matter to someone else other than him. After a few minutes, dressed in some nice slacks and a black shirt, he slipped his cap onto his head and headed downstairs. Somehow, he felt, things were just getting more interesting by the day around here.
After a few moments, Fuuka had calmed down enough to make her way to her closet, where she looked through trying to decide what to wear. She didn't want to dress too nice, but she didn't want to look bad either. Part of her didn't want to remove the shirt she was now wearing, the shirt Shinji had told her she could keep, but it was long and not something she should wear where the others would see.
She finally settled on a simple sundress, one that wouldn't look out of place from what she normally wore on Sundays. She changed then spread the shirt out over her pillow, hoping to surround herself in his scent that night. She'd already been developing a crush on Shinji and this past week had managed to intensify that, and the past however long it was this morning had as well. She blushed and ran her fingers through her hair before heading downstairs to the kitchen.
He was already busy at work, pulling ingredients from the shelves, pulling out the necessary utensils and pans. There was a bit of a bounce in his step this morning for some reason, and he welcomed it. He turned to regard Fuuka as she walked in, and smiled a bit. "That's....uh.....a nice dress." He glanced over to the table, where Fuuka's easy bake oven and special apron that she had worn through the week lay neatly folded. "Guess that won't fit you now....eh?"
"Thank you," she said. She followed his eyes over to the table and blushed, "No, I suppose it won't."
"S'alright" he began. "Hold onto it...if you ever have kids one day you can let them use it when they help you in the kitchen." He turned back to the counter top, grabbing two eggs deftly and cracking them on the side of a metal bowl, sliding them open quickly and tossing the shells into the trash.
"Of course," she nodded, deciding she'd take it up to her room after breakfast. She grabbed the apron she normally used and pulled it on, tying it around her waist as she walked over to Shinji. He was more skilled in the kitchen than she'd ever been, and watching him crack the eggs was surprisingly fascinating. She would have been meticulous about it and would still have managed to get eggshell in the bowl.
"Chocolate chip pancakes alright by you?" He asked as he poured the pancake mix into the bowl with the egg. Pulling a whisk from a nearby drawer he started to beat the batter quickly.
"I haven't had those in a while." Chocolate sounded really good, and a lot better than plain pancakes.
"Alright then, mind getting me the chocolate chi-" he jumped back a bit as some batter flew from the bowl and hit him on the nose.
Fuuka giggled and reached up to wipe away the batter before turning toward the cabinet, wiping her finger on her apron, "Sure thing." She grabbed the chocolate chips and headed back to Shinji.
He blushed at her touch, but didn't shy away from it. Instead, he watched her as she moved away. His eyes lingered on her for a few moments before he realized he was staring. He quickly went back to mixing the batter, keeping his head low to try and hide the burning sensation he felt in his cheeks. "Uh...thanks..."
"You're welcome," she said. She opened the bag and started pouring them in slowly as Shinji mixed. "Tell me when it's enough."
As he mixed he occasionally glanced up to look at her. The more he saw her, the more he realized how pretty she was. It was hard concentrating on what he was doing while she was in such close proximity to him. The whisk almost got away from him a few times before he finally managed to murmur "Okay...s'enough now."
Fuuka stopped pouring the chocolate chips into the batter, quickly noticing that there were a lot in there. "Well, at least we won't need any syrup," she said with a laugh.
His face flushed more. C'mon, Shinji pull it together. It wasn't like you to make such a stupid mistake while cooking. He laughed nervously anyway, "Guess I....haven't made these in awhile....hope you uh....don't mind." He cleared his throat. "This...uh...should be good for now....why don't.....why don't you start cooking them....I'll uh...get the table set for us..."
"I don't mind," she said quietly, the blush returning to her cheeks. She turned on the stove and sprayed the pan with cooking spray, she wasn't sure if she'd sprayed it enough, but she figured it should be okay. She added a cup of batter to the pan when it heated up enough.
He went to the cupboard and pulled out two plates and forks and knives, and set them on the table across from one another. He then pulled two glasses from the shelf and set them as well. He went to the fridge and pulled out some milk and juice, not sure which Fuuka wanted, and set them on the table as well. Every so often, he'd glance at Fuuka out of the corner of his eye, watching her as she cooked and inwardly smiling to himself.
Fuuka slid the spatula under the first pancake and flipped it over, relieved that it moved easily, though she'd not quite turned it over in time, and it was slightly burnt. She sighed, but didn't give up, knowing that even slightly burnt was an improvement.
Shinji walked over to her and stood behind her, peeking over her shoulder. "How's it going?"
"Oh!" she said. "You startled me." She'd jumped slightly when he'd spoken, the pancake sliding haphazardly in the pan.
"Hey," he started. "Let me show you how to flip without a spatula. Here." He placed his hand over hers on the handle of the pan, and made her lift it. He shook the pan a bit, guiding the pancake to the edge, then flipped his wrist and hers at the same time, causing the pancake to jump and flip in midair. He helped her to quickly guide the pan under it to catch it. "See? S'not too hard."
Fuuka blushed, glad that Shinji couldn't see her face from where he was standing. She tilted the pan to pour the finished pancake onto the serving plate. Adding a bit more cooking spray, she set the pan on the stove again, and poured another cup of batter into it. She waited for the edges of the pancake to start bubbling before trying to flip it. Nervous because Shinji was still right there, she put too much behind it and the pancake went flying over her head...
He wasn't even paying attention. He knew he should have been, but he wasn't. His mind had wandered and he felt...comfortable. Something about Fuuka made him feel that way, but he awoke from his trance with a jolt when a hot, runny, half cooked pancaked plopped dead on his head, directly on his cap. He blinked a few times half in confusion, half in surprise as batter began running down his face and dripping from his nose.
Dropping the pan to the stove, she turned around and gasped. "I'm so sorry, Shinji. I..."
He snorted and let out a deep, warm laugh. He couldn't help himself. He didn't care about the damn pancake or the mess on his favorite hat. He honestly didn't care about anything. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he could afford a good, honest laugh. Somehow, all of his inner demons seemed so insignificant just then. His shoulders felt lighter. He felt warmer, and not just because hot batter was running down his features. He continued to laugh, a large smile on his face.
Fuuka sighed in relief when she saw Shinji wasn't upset or in pain. She turned around to grab a towel off the counter before facing Shinji again. "Here," she said, holding it out.
He was still laughing, and at the same time, licking the batter that had dripped down to his lips. "You know..." he started as he continued chuckling, "this is really good!" He started laughing again. He felt something that he hadn't felt in a very long time just then: Happiness.
"It's not even fully cooked," she said, laughing. She stepped closer and unfolded the towel. lifting up onto the balls of her feet, she reached up and began to wipe away the pancake, blushing all the while.
He kept laughing, even while she cleaned his face. God dammit, laughing felt good. As he settled down, he smiled warmly at her. "Doesn't matter...still tastes good to me regardless, Fuuka..."
She ducked her head and turned around. "I ought to try again," she said, setting the towel on the counter and adding more batter to the pan.
"Want me to help you this time?" he asked as he removed his cap and set it on the counter. He'd have to remember to wash it later.
"Please..." The pancake edge began to bubble and she turned to look at Shinji, "Now?"
He leaned against the counter, folding his arms and smiling. He nodded once. "Now."
She gave the pan another shake, the pancake flipping up into the air. She moved the pan to catch it, but it hit the edge, and half landed on the floor instead of in the pan.
He laughed a bit and smiled. "That's okay...keep trying, you're getting better already."
When the pancake finished cooking, she tipped it onto the plate and tried for one more. It was the last of the batter and she hoped she didn't mess it up too bad. When it was time, she gave another shake and flipped the pancake. She squeezed her eyes shut as it started to fall, too nervous to look. It landed almost perfectly, the batter smearing along the edge of the pan. She peeked out of one eye before opening them both and smiled.
He grinned at her. "See? Told you that you could do it, didn't I? I knew you had it in you."
"Thank you... Shinji." When the pancake finished, she slid it onto the serving plate, then turned off the stove and set the pan on another burner to cool.
"Come on, let's enjoy the quiet before everyone else wakes up and we have to start getting back to our normal lives." He took the serving plate and headed over to the table, serving Fuuka, and then himself.
"Let's." She followed him to the table and took a seat. Getting back to her normal life sounded good, she only hoped that not everything would go back to how it had been before.