...i think this song has a cat meowing in it
A House Like A Hotel
Fandom: Samurai Sentai Shinkenger/Kamen Rider Decade
Rating: G
Pairing(s): N/A, unless you count the mildest of hints of Tsukasa/Takeru
Notes: Drabble (ish). Post-series, Team Decade pay Takeru a visit. For amamiyarin, because being sick sucks. ♥ Feel better soon.
Five hours after Takeru’s best friends walked out of the mansion, a different four walked in.
“Hi honey, I’m home!” Tsukasa sing-songed, startling Takeru out of the wary inspection he’d been giving the guitar Jii had left by his side. “Is that your guitar? Give us a song.”
“I can’t play it yet,” Takeru mumbled, blinking at his uninvited guests. His eyes fell on a sheepish looking Yuusuke, who smiled apologetically.
“We heard you’d won an important fight,” he explained, apparently having grasped the meaning of Takeru’s bemused expression. “So Tsukasa said we should come and see you, to celebrate.”
Tsukasa leaned against a pillar, smiling lazily. “We’ve got connections, you see. We also heard something about your kuroko making us dinner.” He raised a meaningful eyebrow.
The girl - Takeru had never worked out whether her name actually was Natsumikan or not and it wasn’t something you could ask - took a seat, knees pressed together primly. “Where are your comrades? Even on the way in we didn’t see any of them except that blue one.”
Takeru stroked the neck of the guitar in his lap absently. “They’ve all left. Things to do-what do you mean, ‘except that blue one’?”
“Well, he’s outside the gate, crying,” Tsukasa said, obviously delighted to be the one telling Takeru this. “Didn’t you know that?”
“Actually,” the one Takeru knew only as Genta’s-worst-enemy said from the back of the room, the front of his shirt looking suspiciously more priceless vase shaped than it had a few minutes ago, “I think now it’s more accurate to say he’s strapped to the gate, crying.” He beamed back at the disapproving scowl the girl gave him.
Takeru closed his eyes with a heavy sigh and began to amend his mental to-do list. After adding “rescue Ryunosuke from the gate” and “assign a kuroko to watch the kleptomaniac at all times” he heard that very same kleptomaniac calling dibs on the comfiest futon - where did they get the impression they were staying, anyway? - and a stampede of footsteps as it was decided a proper room inspection was needed before choices could be made.
He opened his eyes. Tsukasa was still there, smiling softly at him. “It’s a big house, even for a big important Tono-sama,” he said. “Thought you could use some company.”
The corners of Takeru’s lips quirked imperceptibly.
“Sorry about Kaitou,” Tsukasa added after a few seconds. “We couldn’t get rid of him. Didn't you have a guitar in your lap a few seconds ago?”
Fandom: Samurai Sentai Shinkenger/Kamen Rider Decade
Rating: G
Pairing(s): N/A, unless you count the mildest of hints of Tsukasa/Takeru
Notes: Drabble (ish). Post-series, Team Decade pay Takeru a visit. For amamiyarin, because being sick sucks. ♥ Feel better soon.
Five hours after Takeru’s best friends walked out of the mansion, a different four walked in.
“Hi honey, I’m home!” Tsukasa sing-songed, startling Takeru out of the wary inspection he’d been giving the guitar Jii had left by his side. “Is that your guitar? Give us a song.”
“I can’t play it yet,” Takeru mumbled, blinking at his uninvited guests. His eyes fell on a sheepish looking Yuusuke, who smiled apologetically.
“We heard you’d won an important fight,” he explained, apparently having grasped the meaning of Takeru’s bemused expression. “So Tsukasa said we should come and see you, to celebrate.”
Tsukasa leaned against a pillar, smiling lazily. “We’ve got connections, you see. We also heard something about your kuroko making us dinner.” He raised a meaningful eyebrow.
The girl - Takeru had never worked out whether her name actually was Natsumikan or not and it wasn’t something you could ask - took a seat, knees pressed together primly. “Where are your comrades? Even on the way in we didn’t see any of them except that blue one.”
Takeru stroked the neck of the guitar in his lap absently. “They’ve all left. Things to do-what do you mean, ‘except that blue one’?”
“Well, he’s outside the gate, crying,” Tsukasa said, obviously delighted to be the one telling Takeru this. “Didn’t you know that?”
“Actually,” the one Takeru knew only as Genta’s-worst-enemy said from the back of the room, the front of his shirt looking suspiciously more priceless vase shaped than it had a few minutes ago, “I think now it’s more accurate to say he’s strapped to the gate, crying.” He beamed back at the disapproving scowl the girl gave him.
Takeru closed his eyes with a heavy sigh and began to amend his mental to-do list. After adding “rescue Ryunosuke from the gate” and “assign a kuroko to watch the kleptomaniac at all times” he heard that very same kleptomaniac calling dibs on the comfiest futon - where did they get the impression they were staying, anyway? - and a stampede of footsteps as it was decided a proper room inspection was needed before choices could be made.
He opened his eyes. Tsukasa was still there, smiling softly at him. “It’s a big house, even for a big important Tono-sama,” he said. “Thought you could use some company.”
The corners of Takeru’s lips quirked imperceptibly.
“Sorry about Kaitou,” Tsukasa added after a few seconds. “We couldn’t get rid of him. Didn't you have a guitar in your lap a few seconds ago?”