Drabble
Hi, I'm new here but I've lurked for a bit (ok, that sounds weird). This isn't my first attempt at fanfiction but it is my first official drabble.
#14 Closet
This is so not finished and I'm not sure how well I edited it because I'm psycho sleepy. So forgive me if a few things are redundant. But I felt like posting it here to get feedback before putting it on ffnet (which might not happen anytime soon considering the fair amount of tweaking this might require). So constructive criticism would be much appreciated. I'll try to do all of the drabbles but I'm a bit slow since I tend to have to wait around for inspiration to hit me. Well, I do have a few ideas for some of the others.
#14 Closet
by moonangel
"And I'm not letting you two out until you learn to behave!"
The occupants of Juuban's popular Crown Arcade jumped at the loud slam echoing throughout the relatively crowded establishment.
A dark haired beauty leaned against the front counter as she watched an apron clad sandy blonde jauntily make his way to her side. "Well said. A little too much like a disturbingly dead-on impression of Usagi's mother but quite well said."
"Thank you Rei-chan. I try."
"Hey, you think it'll work?"
"Of course. Who's more brilliant than me?... Okay, stop giving me that look. Of course. They'll be making out and start confessing their undying love before you can blink."
----
After shouting several ineffective death threats to his so-called best buddy, Mamoru could feel his frustration rising to boiling point. For what felt like ages - though, he acknowledged, it had probably been barely two minutes - his angry gaze had been boring a hole in the peeling wood in front of him, as if it were responsible for his current predicament. As he stood there admiring the abuse he'd dealt the poor door, he briefly considered knocking it down but doubted that it would be wise to exhibit superhuman strength in front of a throng of gossipy teenagers.
Mamoru groaned. This was utterly embarrassing. How had he let his best friend manhandle him into a broom closet so easily? Imagine that, Chiba Mamoru being scolded. Why hadn't he stopped jerk? Motoki was no black belt. That boy had gotten knocked around by his sister more times than either of them could count, Mamoru recalled, with gleefully malicious amusement. A ten year old could probably beat him up. Well, if he knew where to aim. Yet here he was, the great masked protector of Tokyo, locked up, having decided not to fight back for reasons that he did not feel like analyzing at the moment. And, as if the situation wasn't bad enough, he felt a slight flush stain his cheeks as he risked a subtle glance in the general direction of his relatively silent companion. His eyes darted away before they landed on her but he could distinctly feel her presence behind him.
Listening to her heavy breathing, he imagined that she was feeling just as irate as he.
"That bastard," he swore, his fist once again slamming into the door none too gently as he leaned his forehead against the hard wood. "Best friend or not, I swear I'm going to tell everybody about that stupid Pokemon collection he's got stashed away in the back of his closet. That obsession alone was painful enough to endure. I tried so hard to tune out his idiotic ramblings about that stupid show and I still somehow know what a Pikachu is and what it evolves into."
Only slightly irregular breathing answered his uncharacteristic rant.
He winced. How angry was she? He could just feel the tension emanating off her in waves. It was hard to shake off but he was feeling very unwilling to turn around to face her wrath. Although that reluctance was not, in any way, a sign of fear. Or embarrassment. Of course not. He just wasn't in the mood. Clenching his fists until he felt his nails digging into his skin, he shut his eyes tight and tried to calm his breathing down. Why was he babbling so much? It wasn't like him to be so talkative but anger and a pair of odangos tended to bring out the chattier side of his otherwise reserved personality. It was odd that she was being the silent one. It was actually pretty unsettling and he just wanted to turn around and... and what?
Gulping down a huge breath of air, he hissed out, "I swear I could mutilate that moron for cramming us in a closet that's probably barely the size of a bathroom stall. Does he seriously think it'll do any good to throw two mortal enemies into an enclosed space and see what happens? At best it just gives us a common enemy, eh Odango?"
A shiver ran down his spine.
"... Odango?"
He paled.
His body tensed as a million thoughts ran through his head. Why wasn't she talking? Had she fainted? Was she preparing to attack him at this very moment? Did she fall asleep? Turning around slowly, a chagrined and exceedingly worried Mamoru realized with horror that he had not hazarded a single look at his favorite ditzy blonde since entering the dimly lit closet.
His startling blue eyes widened at the sight of a frightened fourteen year old girl huddled against the opposing wall, gasping for air.
"Oda- Usagi?" he whispered weakly.
Mamoru felt his heart freeze as he took in her frightened expression as she gazed dazedly up at him. What was wrong? Was she panicking? Was it him? Had gone too far and frightened her with his crazed ranting? Then realization struck him as he cleared his mind and he took in her frantic breathing.
She was claustrophobic.
He cursed.
Bastard.
At this point he wasn't sure if he was referring to Motoki or himself. All throughout his pathetic, self-involved, whiny ramble, she had been standing there in misery, shaking with fear.
He knew he should have turned around sooner.
"Usagi," he said softly, hesitantly reaching towards her shaking form. "Usagi, it's alright. Everything's going to be okay. I'm here."
Wide sky blue eyes stared up at him, a slight whimper escaping her trembling lips.
Cursing his callous neglectfulness, he gently scooped the shivering slip of a girl into his strong arms.
"Shhh. Usagi, it's alright. I'll get us out of here. Shh."
Slowly, her soft body relaxed just enough to conform to his gentle embrace and her eyes rose again to meet his.
He glanced at the door.
Ah hell.
----
A loud crash could be heard throughout the arcade and while most everyone's head shot up in utter shock, two people in particular jumped guiltily at the sound of splintering wood echoing off the walls.
Furuhata Motoki and Hino Rei slowly turned around in their seats at the counter to stare slack jawed as their raven haired friend gently guided a starry eyed Usagi over a broken wooden door.
Giving the two one warning glare, Mamoru led the blushing girl in his arms out of the arcade, occasionally leaning in and whispering soft comforting words that only Usagi could hear.
Motoki turned to a speechless Rei and shrugged helplessly.
"Well, it kinda worked."
end.
AN. Halfway through writing this I realized I actually had a similar experience of being locked in a dark, enclosed space with, er, a love interest. But I'm claustrophobic so I panicked and demanded to be let out. I don't think my guy was feeling very wanted. Heh. It's half embarrassing and half funny.
You think I shouldn't use Rei? I figure goofy Motoki needs a sarcastic companion but she ended up with two lines. I also didn't intend for Mamoru to break down the door since I felt that'd be a bit overdramatic but it seemed to fit well enough. It's such a waste to not give Usagi any dialogue but I thought this was a fun way to approach this theme. Hey, and while I'm asking for advice, anyone have any good criticism for my story Memory on ff.net? I reaaally need to get an editor for it ^_^;
#14 Closet
This is so not finished and I'm not sure how well I edited it because I'm psycho sleepy. So forgive me if a few things are redundant. But I felt like posting it here to get feedback before putting it on ffnet (which might not happen anytime soon considering the fair amount of tweaking this might require). So constructive criticism would be much appreciated. I'll try to do all of the drabbles but I'm a bit slow since I tend to have to wait around for inspiration to hit me. Well, I do have a few ideas for some of the others.
#14 Closet
by moonangel
"And I'm not letting you two out until you learn to behave!"
The occupants of Juuban's popular Crown Arcade jumped at the loud slam echoing throughout the relatively crowded establishment.
A dark haired beauty leaned against the front counter as she watched an apron clad sandy blonde jauntily make his way to her side. "Well said. A little too much like a disturbingly dead-on impression of Usagi's mother but quite well said."
"Thank you Rei-chan. I try."
"Hey, you think it'll work?"
"Of course. Who's more brilliant than me?... Okay, stop giving me that look. Of course. They'll be making out and start confessing their undying love before you can blink."
----
After shouting several ineffective death threats to his so-called best buddy, Mamoru could feel his frustration rising to boiling point. For what felt like ages - though, he acknowledged, it had probably been barely two minutes - his angry gaze had been boring a hole in the peeling wood in front of him, as if it were responsible for his current predicament. As he stood there admiring the abuse he'd dealt the poor door, he briefly considered knocking it down but doubted that it would be wise to exhibit superhuman strength in front of a throng of gossipy teenagers.
Mamoru groaned. This was utterly embarrassing. How had he let his best friend manhandle him into a broom closet so easily? Imagine that, Chiba Mamoru being scolded. Why hadn't he stopped jerk? Motoki was no black belt. That boy had gotten knocked around by his sister more times than either of them could count, Mamoru recalled, with gleefully malicious amusement. A ten year old could probably beat him up. Well, if he knew where to aim. Yet here he was, the great masked protector of Tokyo, locked up, having decided not to fight back for reasons that he did not feel like analyzing at the moment. And, as if the situation wasn't bad enough, he felt a slight flush stain his cheeks as he risked a subtle glance in the general direction of his relatively silent companion. His eyes darted away before they landed on her but he could distinctly feel her presence behind him.
Listening to her heavy breathing, he imagined that she was feeling just as irate as he.
"That bastard," he swore, his fist once again slamming into the door none too gently as he leaned his forehead against the hard wood. "Best friend or not, I swear I'm going to tell everybody about that stupid Pokemon collection he's got stashed away in the back of his closet. That obsession alone was painful enough to endure. I tried so hard to tune out his idiotic ramblings about that stupid show and I still somehow know what a Pikachu is and what it evolves into."
Only slightly irregular breathing answered his uncharacteristic rant.
He winced. How angry was she? He could just feel the tension emanating off her in waves. It was hard to shake off but he was feeling very unwilling to turn around to face her wrath. Although that reluctance was not, in any way, a sign of fear. Or embarrassment. Of course not. He just wasn't in the mood. Clenching his fists until he felt his nails digging into his skin, he shut his eyes tight and tried to calm his breathing down. Why was he babbling so much? It wasn't like him to be so talkative but anger and a pair of odangos tended to bring out the chattier side of his otherwise reserved personality. It was odd that she was being the silent one. It was actually pretty unsettling and he just wanted to turn around and... and what?
Gulping down a huge breath of air, he hissed out, "I swear I could mutilate that moron for cramming us in a closet that's probably barely the size of a bathroom stall. Does he seriously think it'll do any good to throw two mortal enemies into an enclosed space and see what happens? At best it just gives us a common enemy, eh Odango?"
A shiver ran down his spine.
"... Odango?"
He paled.
His body tensed as a million thoughts ran through his head. Why wasn't she talking? Had she fainted? Was she preparing to attack him at this very moment? Did she fall asleep? Turning around slowly, a chagrined and exceedingly worried Mamoru realized with horror that he had not hazarded a single look at his favorite ditzy blonde since entering the dimly lit closet.
His startling blue eyes widened at the sight of a frightened fourteen year old girl huddled against the opposing wall, gasping for air.
"Oda- Usagi?" he whispered weakly.
Mamoru felt his heart freeze as he took in her frightened expression as she gazed dazedly up at him. What was wrong? Was she panicking? Was it him? Had gone too far and frightened her with his crazed ranting? Then realization struck him as he cleared his mind and he took in her frantic breathing.
She was claustrophobic.
He cursed.
Bastard.
At this point he wasn't sure if he was referring to Motoki or himself. All throughout his pathetic, self-involved, whiny ramble, she had been standing there in misery, shaking with fear.
He knew he should have turned around sooner.
"Usagi," he said softly, hesitantly reaching towards her shaking form. "Usagi, it's alright. Everything's going to be okay. I'm here."
Wide sky blue eyes stared up at him, a slight whimper escaping her trembling lips.
Cursing his callous neglectfulness, he gently scooped the shivering slip of a girl into his strong arms.
"Shhh. Usagi, it's alright. I'll get us out of here. Shh."
Slowly, her soft body relaxed just enough to conform to his gentle embrace and her eyes rose again to meet his.
He glanced at the door.
Ah hell.
----
A loud crash could be heard throughout the arcade and while most everyone's head shot up in utter shock, two people in particular jumped guiltily at the sound of splintering wood echoing off the walls.
Furuhata Motoki and Hino Rei slowly turned around in their seats at the counter to stare slack jawed as their raven haired friend gently guided a starry eyed Usagi over a broken wooden door.
Giving the two one warning glare, Mamoru led the blushing girl in his arms out of the arcade, occasionally leaning in and whispering soft comforting words that only Usagi could hear.
Motoki turned to a speechless Rei and shrugged helplessly.
"Well, it kinda worked."
end.
AN. Halfway through writing this I realized I actually had a similar experience of being locked in a dark, enclosed space with, er, a love interest. But I'm claustrophobic so I panicked and demanded to be let out. I don't think my guy was feeling very wanted. Heh. It's half embarrassing and half funny.
You think I shouldn't use Rei? I figure goofy Motoki needs a sarcastic companion but she ended up with two lines. I also didn't intend for Mamoru to break down the door since I felt that'd be a bit overdramatic but it seemed to fit well enough. It's such a waste to not give Usagi any dialogue but I thought this was a fun way to approach this theme. Hey, and while I'm asking for advice, anyone have any good criticism for my story Memory on ff.net? I reaaally need to get an editor for it ^_^;