Only One [TakuHachi!gen; G]
Title: Only One
Author: the_lady_lamb
Genre: NANA
Sub-genre: Angst/Romance, I think, maybe?/Gen
Summary: Hachi makes dinner for her complaining daughter and thinks about the fact that her life sucks. On ice. Only not. This story sucks just as much as the summary.
Rated: G for lameness.
Author's Notes: yukari_rin gave me a NANA prompt for my first fan fiction. I completely failed to write to it. I give this a D- at best. Sorry, Rin, I promise I'll write to it next time. DDD:
Only One
“Mm,” Satsuki hums into her glass of milk. “Sounds like trouble~”
“And what would a six-year-old know of trouble?” Hachiko says in the voice she uses for scolding, stirring the stew as she does so. “It isn’t any trouble at all. Of course your father would be busy at a time like this. You know that everything he does is so that you have milk to drink while you complain.” The steam rubs itself affectionately against her face but it doesn’t alleviate the pain in her chest at all. (Of course he would not be here. But she supposes that that is alright, since it cannot be helped anyway.)
“I wasn’t complaining!” Satsuki makes a face, her dark eyebrows turned down. It’s the kind of face that makes her look an awful lot like Nana, actually. But Hachi wonders if that’s just her wanting her friend back somehow. If that’s just her trying to put furniture in front of the fact that Satsuki looks like Nana because Satsuki looks like her father. (Like she’s painting over that poster stain on her wall again.)
But Hachi hasn’t had any Trapnest merchandise between her hands in a long time.
She tells herself it’s because she doesn’t need it, but really it’s because it helps her face her friends without feeling like the traitor that tore them apart.
“Besides,” Satsuki continues, oblivious to her mother’s absence of mind, “you complain plenty!”
“I most certainly do not,” Hachi says, authoritatively. “I’ve got nothing to complain about. Your father provides a very nice home for us, and plenty of other things besides.”
“Yeah, but he’s still not home for dinner.”
Hachi decides not to speak, and instead gives her daughter a look that says everything. Satsuki slips into a subdued silence, and Hachi reaches up into the cupboards for the bowls - the only kind that aren’t on the table yet. She hasn’t done the dishes from breakfast yet (they ate lunch at a restaurant downtown) but it’s alright.
There is always atleast one spare dish, after all.
(And Hachi knows full well that she has never been Takumi’s only one.)
She spoons the stew into Satsuki’s bowl as its owner appears excitedly at her hip - she gives it over to free up her hand again and Satsuki dances back to the table. She settles down with her own bowl and dispenses the appropriate utensils. Satsuki snatches up her spoon excitedly, seeming to have completely forgotten their discussion, and Hachi parts her chopsticks, still greatly disturbed by it.
“Itadakimasu!”
Author: the_lady_lamb
Genre: NANA
Sub-genre: Angst/Romance, I think, maybe?/Gen
Summary: Hachi makes dinner for her complaining daughter and thinks about the fact that her life sucks. On ice. Only not. This story sucks just as much as the summary.
Rated: G for lameness.
Author's Notes: yukari_rin gave me a NANA prompt for my first fan fiction. I completely failed to write to it. I give this a D- at best. Sorry, Rin, I promise I'll write to it next time. DDD:
Only One
“Mm,” Satsuki hums into her glass of milk. “Sounds like trouble~”
“And what would a six-year-old know of trouble?” Hachiko says in the voice she uses for scolding, stirring the stew as she does so. “It isn’t any trouble at all. Of course your father would be busy at a time like this. You know that everything he does is so that you have milk to drink while you complain.” The steam rubs itself affectionately against her face but it doesn’t alleviate the pain in her chest at all. (Of course he would not be here. But she supposes that that is alright, since it cannot be helped anyway.)
“I wasn’t complaining!” Satsuki makes a face, her dark eyebrows turned down. It’s the kind of face that makes her look an awful lot like Nana, actually. But Hachi wonders if that’s just her wanting her friend back somehow. If that’s just her trying to put furniture in front of the fact that Satsuki looks like Nana because Satsuki looks like her father. (Like she’s painting over that poster stain on her wall again.)
But Hachi hasn’t had any Trapnest merchandise between her hands in a long time.
She tells herself it’s because she doesn’t need it, but really it’s because it helps her face her friends without feeling like the traitor that tore them apart.
“Besides,” Satsuki continues, oblivious to her mother’s absence of mind, “you complain plenty!”
“I most certainly do not,” Hachi says, authoritatively. “I’ve got nothing to complain about. Your father provides a very nice home for us, and plenty of other things besides.”
“Yeah, but he’s still not home for dinner.”
Hachi decides not to speak, and instead gives her daughter a look that says everything. Satsuki slips into a subdued silence, and Hachi reaches up into the cupboards for the bowls - the only kind that aren’t on the table yet. She hasn’t done the dishes from breakfast yet (they ate lunch at a restaurant downtown) but it’s alright.
There is always atleast one spare dish, after all.
(And Hachi knows full well that she has never been Takumi’s only one.)
She spoons the stew into Satsuki’s bowl as its owner appears excitedly at her hip - she gives it over to free up her hand again and Satsuki dances back to the table. She settles down with her own bowl and dispenses the appropriate utensils. Satsuki snatches up her spoon excitedly, seeming to have completely forgotten their discussion, and Hachi parts her chopsticks, still greatly disturbed by it.
“Itadakimasu!”