Ebikis - 100 word drabbles, part 1
Drabbles. 100 words each. Featuring Fujigaya as the main character (for some reason). AU, Fujigaya is a spy. Has various Ebikis members. This will have a part two (sometime in the future), as obviously the last part is hanging.
I owe some people fic (for the habagat_help drive in je_philippines), and I promise to bring you fic sometime before Christmas. Just--I am extremely sorry, things have been really shitty for me recently, I don't want to make shitty fic for such good people.
Anyway, fic!
Yokoo, Fujigaya
When he finds Fujigaya absently sifting through his jewelry for the third time in a week, Yokoo goes over and slaps his hand away.
“That’s-” Yokoo pauses, measures his words carefully. “That’s a really bad habit,” he decides to continue, shaking his head ruefully.
Fujigaya quirks an amused eyebrow up at him. “But they’re cute.” He’s referring to the bracelets.
“Yes. They are also mine,” Yokoo points out helpfully.
Fujigaya scrunches up his nose. “Not like you wear them anymore, let me borrow some.” He does the puppy eyes.
“Tono’s waiting,” Yokoo says instead, rushing Fujigaya out the door.
Fujigaya, Kawai, Goseki
It’s not so much of an undercover mission when, one by one, the people of the organization he’s trying to infiltrate start finding out Fujigaya is a spy.
“So what do you really want with us, anyway,” Goseki’s busy sharpening his knives.
Fujigaya stares, wide-eyed. “I. What.”
Adjusting the straps of his boots, Kawai snorts. “I think we’ve already established the fact that Gocchi and I are not stupid.”
So much for being careful, then.
“Are you gonna tell?” Fujigaya asks, wary.
Goseki looks at him. “You’re not my charge. I don’t really care.”
At least he’s safe for now.
Yokoo, Fujigaya
Of course, Fujigaya notices when Yokoo decides to lock the stash of trinkets in his cabinet.
“Aww,” Fujigaya pouts. “No sharing?”
Too busy with cleaning up their room, Yokoo doesn’t even look at him. “Go bother Fumito,” he answers.
“But I just got back!”
“And your point is,” with nothing to do (the room is finally presentable for human habitation again), Yokoo humors him.
Fujigaya plops down on his bed. “I was on a mission, you know,” he tries to strike up conversation.
“Right,” Yokoo glances at him. Fujigaya. On a mission, merely three months after getting into Kakumei. Right.
Fujigaya, Tamamori
Senga is sick, which only happens once in maybe five blue moons.
Properly worried, Tamamori sends Fujigaya a message. Undetected, of course.
“I have to go be somewhere,” Fujigaya is hurriedly saying over the phone. He’s phoned Goseki. “Cover for me, please?”
There’s a beep, and Fujigaya can’t explain more, unless he wants to make another call. He doesn’t want to reveal much anyway, even if Goseki knows.
“Were you careful?” Tamamori asks when he opens the door. He looks around, checking if Fujigaya has been tailed.
“I had an errand to run,” Fujigaya frowns, but he’s nodding. “Where’s Kento?”
Kitayama, Fujigaya, Tamamori
Eyeing the karaage for a moment, Kitayama turns to him. “Thought you were given strict orders not to be here,” he gestures Fujigaya to eat.
Kento’s sick, Fujigaya wants to say, as if that will justify him running off suspiciously.
“Don’t worry, I got it covered,” he says instead, because he hasn’t seen Kitayama in months, hasn’t seen anyone from his team since he started this mission, actually.
Lunch smells good, even at four in the afternoon. Tamamori’s skills in the kitchen have been improving.
“So,” Kitayama looks at Fujigaya’s arm, multicolored beads on his left wrist. “Your new boyfriend?”
Fujigaya, Tamamori, Senga
Fujigaya pointedly ignores Kitayama for the rest of his stay, which is all of three hours.
“How’s it coming along,” Tamamori asks, distractedly typing away.
Fujigaya sits beside him. “Halfway there,” he closes his eyes for a moment, stretches his arms. “Might convince one of them to change sides,” he smiles, thinking of Yokoo. They get along well enough now.
Then there’s the sound of a door opening and Fujigaya gets tackled, arms full of flailing arms and legs and curly, brown hair.
“Taipi! You’re here!” Senga is all smiles, and Fujigaya wonders if he snuck out for no reason.
Kitayama, Fujigaya, Senga
“You don’t have to leave,” Senga whines, tucked under the blankets and using Fujigaya’s lap as his pillow. Tamamori had threatened him with a fork earlier; Senga had refused to drink his medicine because then he’d be woozy and would miss out on ‘Taipi-bonding time’.
Fujigaya is secretly pleased.
Senga hums, content, when Fujigaya combs fingers in his hair. “Stay the night, okay?”
It’s the cute voice, the one Fujigaya normally can’t resist.
“Kento,” the fingers stop, and Senga pouts. His eyes are closed, it’s adorable, but-
“He needs to go,” that’s Kitayama, leaning against the door, watching them. “Now.”
Kitayama, Fujigaya
They close the door quietly and go to the living room.
“Don’t come back until your mission’s over,” Kitayama’s staring straight at him, face serious.
Fujigaya nods, stiff; he knows it was a rash move, one that could get him outed and his teammates dead. “Sorry, leader.”
There’s an amused smile from Kitayama.
“What,” Fujigaya asks, a little annoyed.
Kitayama shakes his head no. “You hate calling me that,” he chuckles, fumbling for something in his back pocket. It’s a necklace, bright red stones- Red-eyed Devils. “So,” he says nonchalantly as he reaches over and clasps it on Fujigaya’s neck.
Fujigaya, Senga
They’d been allowed a few minutes to say goodbye before Tamamori would come back to officially declare Senga’s room in quarantine.
“I’m not terminal,” Senga’s shouts at the door, obviously antsy now that Fujigaya’s about to go. “Do you really have to?”
To go back to them, his sentence is unfinished. Back where it’s dangerous.
But Fujigaya’s never shown his weakness, at least not in front of Senga. “Kitamitsu will take care of you,” he whispers against Senga’s forehead. Until I come back.
“Be safe,” Senga mutters instead, surges up to chastely kiss the corner of Fujigaya’s mouth. “For me?”