[LOG] Belly Up
Characters: Fuji Shuusuke and Oishi Shuichiro
Location: Oishi & Niou’s room, Fuji & Yukimura’s room
Time: November 4, afternoon
Rating: G
Summary: Fuji details to Oishi his latest spying photography project.
For one short hour, Oishi found he’d completely caught up with the laundry. And he almost, very nearly, didn’t know what to do with himself. Earlier that evening he’d stopped by the junior dorms to drop off his dried (and in some cases, pressed) batch and replace it with another pile of dirty clothes that no doubt awaited him. Only when he arrived, the basket the faculty had been leaving him a few times a day was, as of yet, still empty. He then checked his wristwatch and realized he was running a couple hours early. In his agonizing time washing suits and jackets, he’d actually worked up a routine so efficient that he was now ahead of schedule. All right. He’d wandered the halls for a bit, half-expecting that basket to be filled up when he checked again, but there it sat again-- completely devoid of man-scarves.
Huh. He walked back across campus to his dorm, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he’d almost forgotten what to do without a basket full of dirty clothes in them.
The very first thing he noticed when he arrived back was one of his tiny emperor tetras, belly up at the top of his fish tank. “Aw,” He made a sympathetic noise and furrowed his brow. He was already feeling guilty for not having the time lately to devote to checking on them, though none of them had looked sick the last he had. He fished the poor soul out into an old watch box he kept for this sort of thing, and tried to tell which of his fish it was. It didn’t look familiar at all.
Fuji had noticed the problem just before class. Opening his laptop to check on ‘Operation Spy Fish’ before going downstairs, he had been met with a blank screen. He tsk-ed softly at the quality of the kit included battery and made a plan to go into town after his lessons and buy a higher quality fish heart.
Now back, hair windswept from the chill autumn air, he tapped on the bedroom door belonging to his two friends.
Considering how often his roommate came and went, Oishi was halfway through an, "It's open," intended for Niou before deciding to cross the room and get it himself. He quirked a brow when he was met with Fuji instead, answering with some confusion, "Niou's not here, if you're looking for him." He didn't imagine Fuji was anxious to spend time with him, not when he was still understandably upset over being left alone with his punishments.
… Though he was still too polite to do anything cruel like kick him out. Oishi crossed back over to his tank, shutting the screen top after dusting the water with what could be considered consolation food.
“No, I’m not looking for Niou.” Fuji ignored the slight chill in Oishi’s greeting and followed him into the room, watching as he spread a pinch of food over the tank with a grieved expression on his face. His eyes scanned the water briefly, but there was no sign of the motionless spy fish. He hoped Oishi hadn’t gone and flushed it down the toilet. That would cause a downturn in that evening’s prospective activities. “You have lost one of your family, Oishi,” he said to the other teen, coming to stand beside him.
Oishi was a bit surprised at how easily Fuji had picked that up, turning toward him for a moment before returning his attention to the little still fish nestled in a box in front of the tank. "A-ah," He could momentarily put aside his irksome attitude with Fuji in favor of discussing fish, "it seems that way," he answered with an air of disappointment and sadness. He wondered how long the poor thing had been floating there before he'd managed to get to it. Poor thing.
Bullseye! Fuji followed Oishi’s mournful gaze down to the miniature fish coffin in which his spy fish had been laid out to meet its maker. However, its maker --or at least, its owner-- was more of a fixer-upper kind of guy. He laid a hand gently on his friend’s shoulder, “Don’t worry. I can make this better.” Reaching down, Fuji plucked the lifeless fish from the box and slid open the compartment in its side. “It just needs a new battery.”
"Make it…?" Trailing, Oishi stepped aside as Fuji, much to his bewilderment, picked up his passed on fish and cradled it in his hands. His comments were met with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, "That's not funny, Fuj--" and then a section of his fish's body slid open. Oishi very nearly fainted. "W-wait, new battery?" He'd certainly never purchased any kind of automated fish for his tank. (And what kind of use would that even have?) Then, it was Fuji's? When had Fuji had access to their dorm room? "Where did that come from?"
Fuji smiled at Oishi’s bemused face as he opened up the packet that contained the new battery and slotted it into the fish. With a small ‘beep’ the miniature robot came back to life, flicking its tail. “Isn’t the origin of all life a mystery?” he said, speculatively. “Yet sometimes we can share in the miracle.” And order it online.
Oishi was unamused by the decidedly vague answer. "That doesn't answer my question…" Momentarily he was somewhat distracted by how remarkably lifelike the miniature robotic thing looked-- right down to the familiar shimmer on its fins. No wonder he hadn't recognized it. He eyed his tank, recounting the tetras swimming by in a small school to assure his living fish were all accounted for. "What is that? I don't want it in my tank if I don't know what it is." And just what kind of metal or plastic was it made of? He bet Fuji hadn't even looked up what kind of damage strange materials could cause to the pH balance of his aquarium.
“It’s made for aquariums,” Fuji assured him while failing to address the real issue. He held the small robot up to the light where it wiggled in his fingers. “Would you deny him a home?” Holding the would-be fish by the tank, a few of its ex-tank mates floating closer for a better look at their fallen comrade. “His name is pinocchio.”
Though relieved that it was an artificial fish bottoming up on the surface of his tank earlier, Oishi couldn't help but be wary of where exactly something like that came from. And why Fuji wanted it in there. He watched as his own fish gathered around the glass curiously, and he frowned. "It's made to do what in aquariums?" The sympathy act didn't work too well when Oishi was already aware it wasn't an actual fish. Surely no company made tiny robotic, lifelike fish just for the heck of it, right? By now he sounded more puzzled than accusatory, "And when did you put it in there…?"
“It swims, Oishi.” It was true too. Next to the main tank, Oishi had a smaller container that seemed to be his fish hospital. Evidently, pinocchio-the-little-plastic-fish had been considered too far gone to entre such an intermediary stage, but in the wake of his extraordinary recovery, Fuji dropped him in. The fish demonstrated Fuji’s point by starting to scout out its new home. “I put him in your main tank a few days ago.”
Oishi watched as the tiny robot made the rounds in his quarantine tank, its movements just as realistic as its appearance. Though fascinating, and no doubt impressive, Oishi was intensely curious about Fuji's sudden interest in becoming a fledgling android aquarist. Nevermind how he'd gotten into his room in the first place. "Right, I see that. I still don't… understand…" He bent down to level its eyes with his own, squinting at the makeshift fish scrutinously. "Since when do you have an interest in fish?" If this could even be called that.
“It’s for a photography project,” Fuji told him. He peered in the opposite end of the tiny tank, watching Oishi’s cautious interest through the rippling water. The little robot fish swam up to where Oishi was peering at it through the glass. Something in its eye moved as the lens focussed. “It has a camera in it,” he added casually.
It couldn't be that simple. Things were never that simple with Fuji. It was also possible that a lack of sleep had increased Oishi's ever-growing paranoia. He thought on Fuji's words, humming, "If you wanted photos, I wouldn't have minded." The question of why Fuji wanted pictures of his fish wasn't something that entered his mind-- his fish were stunning and perfect, who wouldn't want pictures of them?
All in all, Fuji thought Oishi had taken the news that he had installed a spy fish in his fish tank several days ago rather well. Most people might have asked what photographs Fuji was taking along with the fish, but Oishi clearly couldn’t conceive that anything more would be wanted. What was more, in this instance he was perfectly right. The fish’s small lens was designed for underwater close-range footage and it couldn’t see much outside its aquatic home.
“I didn’t just want photos of the fish,” Fuji explained. “It’s going to be a complete fish experience.” He smiled at Oishi. “You’ll love it.” He nodded towards the big tank. “If you drop him back in, I’ll show you what he can see.”
"Hmm," Oishi let the tiny artificial fish do a couple more figure eights from one end of the small tank to the other, chewing his lip and then nodding slightly. He reached for the skimmer on the end of his dresser and gently lifted the tiny thing out by habit. It made a bit of a mechanical tick against the netting as he transferred it back over-- to the surprise and interest of his other, more alive fish. "I guess… something like that would be all right." He gave Fuji a sideways glance and then clarified quickly, "So long as it doesn't stress any of them out."
“Come on.” Fuji led the way out of Oishi’s room across the hallway to his own, where his laptop was sitting on the desk. When he had left, the screen had been blank, but now the newly resurrected fish was broadcasting its watery home to Fuji’s hard drive. Fuji examined it with approval. “Welcome to your tank.”
Intrigued by the prospect, (combined with a morbid curiosity), Oishi didn't hesitate in following Fuji back to his dorm, if only to assure he was telling the truth about this project of his. Though there weren't many nefarious things he figured Fuji had in mind for his aquarium. Even if he'd been curt with him at the slumber party a while ago, it wouldn't be in Fuji's style to go on a mass fish poisoning spree for it. "Wow," He examined the screen curiously, impressed by the quality of the video for how small a camera it must have been operating with, "so this is a project you're working on?" The little red phantom tetra he'd dubbed 'Eiji' swept by the camera, and Oishi chuckled, distracted by watching each of them school by before…
"Wait," The tiny robotic fish did another turn, and there were his and Niou's beds in full view, albeit pretty blurred and obscured through the glass, "… you can really see a lot of the dorm from here," he said, unsettled.
“It’s just because you know the layout,” Fuji told him reassuringly. Admittedly, since he did know what the bedroom looked like, he could see the beds and dimly make out a shape that might be the desk but nothing was in focus. The naked room-mates shots wouldn’t sell for much. “Why, Oishi, what have you been up to?”
"Hmm," Oishi tilted his head again, recognizing the pattern of his sheets and the textbooks he'd left in a pile earlier. Niou's side of the room looked startlingly recognizable as well, though that could have just been familiarity, like Fuji had said. For the most part, the room was a massive blur of colors and shapes. "I… guess. Still, you can't just go installing cameras into people's dorms without their knowledge," he frowned, "and I haven't been up to anything but laundry lately."
“You do know now,” Fuji told Oishi cheerfully. He examined the screen again, mentally running through what he had seen through the spy fish. It really had not been much and Fuji had been focussing on the water shots. He had seen Atsushi come and go (helped by the fact the catboy tended to peer in the tank) and there had been that other one time... “Relax Oishi. It’s only for a another few days.”
Somehow Oishi had counted on that sort of nonchalant answer. It was true there weren't many things he'd done in his dorm that were questionable enough to hold over his head, and looking through the lens again, the chances Fuji had seen more than a quick change of his shirt to climb into bed were relatively slim. Still, it was mostly the principle of the matter. "Does Niou know about this…?"
“Yes, he helped me install it,” Fuji replied, just as blithely. On his laptop screen, the red phantom tetra had come back for more juicy gossip with his robotic buddy. Seeing a small smile cross Oishi’s face, Fuji added, “Eiji is a pretty fish, Oishi.”
"… And neither of you thought to tell me…" Muttered Oishi, noting the way the other teen gently shrugged off that question. He had half a mind to return to his dorm and check for any other bugs around the place. … And count his fish again. Speaking of, "A-ah, thank you," he did find it hard to stay on-track with his thoughts when someone was paying compliments to his pets, "you have to pay special attention to their diet to get their color that vibrant."
“Anyone can tell they are beautifully looked after,” Fuji said, straightening from the fish cam. “Will you let me know if you see any problems with my fish or if the others run out of batteries?” He added, as a seeming afterthought.
Oishi flustered and rubbed his palm along the back of his neck, rising to stand along with Fuji, knowing there was likely a basket of scarves and suits awaiting him somewhere. "I… suppose I could do that," He muttered, making it a few steps toward the doorway before that second half caught up with him, "Wait, others?"
Fuji was still looking down at his laptop. As the fish did a blurry turn of the tank, he recalled again the one scene he glimpsed through the glass where the contortion of arms and legs had not involved Niou at all. That image had been barely distinguishable but the flash of red (helped by photoshop) was sufficient. “Next time, get ahold of Eiji’s tail, Oishi,” Fuji said to his friend. “He won’t wiggle so much.” And with that he lifted a hand in goodbye.
There weren't other robotic fish in his tank, were there? Fuji just had the one display on his screen… and there was no way Oishi could have missed a completely new school of fish appearing in his aquarium, could he…? He had been really busy lately. All these thoughts clouded him as Fuji very gently shuffled him out of the doorway, and he caught the very tail end (no pun intended) of Fuji's advice, "I-I wasn't--" And with that, Fuji's ever-smiling face was replaced with a door.
Location: Oishi & Niou’s room, Fuji & Yukimura’s room
Time: November 4, afternoon
Rating: G
Summary: Fuji details to Oishi his latest spying photography project.
For one short hour, Oishi found he’d completely caught up with the laundry. And he almost, very nearly, didn’t know what to do with himself. Earlier that evening he’d stopped by the junior dorms to drop off his dried (and in some cases, pressed) batch and replace it with another pile of dirty clothes that no doubt awaited him. Only when he arrived, the basket the faculty had been leaving him a few times a day was, as of yet, still empty. He then checked his wristwatch and realized he was running a couple hours early. In his agonizing time washing suits and jackets, he’d actually worked up a routine so efficient that he was now ahead of schedule. All right. He’d wandered the halls for a bit, half-expecting that basket to be filled up when he checked again, but there it sat again-- completely devoid of man-scarves.
Huh. He walked back across campus to his dorm, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he’d almost forgotten what to do without a basket full of dirty clothes in them.
The very first thing he noticed when he arrived back was one of his tiny emperor tetras, belly up at the top of his fish tank. “Aw,” He made a sympathetic noise and furrowed his brow. He was already feeling guilty for not having the time lately to devote to checking on them, though none of them had looked sick the last he had. He fished the poor soul out into an old watch box he kept for this sort of thing, and tried to tell which of his fish it was. It didn’t look familiar at all.
Fuji had noticed the problem just before class. Opening his laptop to check on ‘Operation Spy Fish’ before going downstairs, he had been met with a blank screen. He tsk-ed softly at the quality of the kit included battery and made a plan to go into town after his lessons and buy a higher quality fish heart.
Now back, hair windswept from the chill autumn air, he tapped on the bedroom door belonging to his two friends.
Considering how often his roommate came and went, Oishi was halfway through an, "It's open," intended for Niou before deciding to cross the room and get it himself. He quirked a brow when he was met with Fuji instead, answering with some confusion, "Niou's not here, if you're looking for him." He didn't imagine Fuji was anxious to spend time with him, not when he was still understandably upset over being left alone with his punishments.
… Though he was still too polite to do anything cruel like kick him out. Oishi crossed back over to his tank, shutting the screen top after dusting the water with what could be considered consolation food.
“No, I’m not looking for Niou.” Fuji ignored the slight chill in Oishi’s greeting and followed him into the room, watching as he spread a pinch of food over the tank with a grieved expression on his face. His eyes scanned the water briefly, but there was no sign of the motionless spy fish. He hoped Oishi hadn’t gone and flushed it down the toilet. That would cause a downturn in that evening’s prospective activities. “You have lost one of your family, Oishi,” he said to the other teen, coming to stand beside him.
Oishi was a bit surprised at how easily Fuji had picked that up, turning toward him for a moment before returning his attention to the little still fish nestled in a box in front of the tank. "A-ah," He could momentarily put aside his irksome attitude with Fuji in favor of discussing fish, "it seems that way," he answered with an air of disappointment and sadness. He wondered how long the poor thing had been floating there before he'd managed to get to it. Poor thing.
Bullseye! Fuji followed Oishi’s mournful gaze down to the miniature fish coffin in which his spy fish had been laid out to meet its maker. However, its maker --or at least, its owner-- was more of a fixer-upper kind of guy. He laid a hand gently on his friend’s shoulder, “Don’t worry. I can make this better.” Reaching down, Fuji plucked the lifeless fish from the box and slid open the compartment in its side. “It just needs a new battery.”
"Make it…?" Trailing, Oishi stepped aside as Fuji, much to his bewilderment, picked up his passed on fish and cradled it in his hands. His comments were met with a sigh and a roll of his eyes, "That's not funny, Fuj--" and then a section of his fish's body slid open. Oishi very nearly fainted. "W-wait, new battery?" He'd certainly never purchased any kind of automated fish for his tank. (And what kind of use would that even have?) Then, it was Fuji's? When had Fuji had access to their dorm room? "Where did that come from?"
Fuji smiled at Oishi’s bemused face as he opened up the packet that contained the new battery and slotted it into the fish. With a small ‘beep’ the miniature robot came back to life, flicking its tail. “Isn’t the origin of all life a mystery?” he said, speculatively. “Yet sometimes we can share in the miracle.” And order it online.
Oishi was unamused by the decidedly vague answer. "That doesn't answer my question…" Momentarily he was somewhat distracted by how remarkably lifelike the miniature robotic thing looked-- right down to the familiar shimmer on its fins. No wonder he hadn't recognized it. He eyed his tank, recounting the tetras swimming by in a small school to assure his living fish were all accounted for. "What is that? I don't want it in my tank if I don't know what it is." And just what kind of metal or plastic was it made of? He bet Fuji hadn't even looked up what kind of damage strange materials could cause to the pH balance of his aquarium.
“It’s made for aquariums,” Fuji assured him while failing to address the real issue. He held the small robot up to the light where it wiggled in his fingers. “Would you deny him a home?” Holding the would-be fish by the tank, a few of its ex-tank mates floating closer for a better look at their fallen comrade. “His name is pinocchio.”
Though relieved that it was an artificial fish bottoming up on the surface of his tank earlier, Oishi couldn't help but be wary of where exactly something like that came from. And why Fuji wanted it in there. He watched as his own fish gathered around the glass curiously, and he frowned. "It's made to do what in aquariums?" The sympathy act didn't work too well when Oishi was already aware it wasn't an actual fish. Surely no company made tiny robotic, lifelike fish just for the heck of it, right? By now he sounded more puzzled than accusatory, "And when did you put it in there…?"
“It swims, Oishi.” It was true too. Next to the main tank, Oishi had a smaller container that seemed to be his fish hospital. Evidently, pinocchio-the-little-plastic-fish had been considered too far gone to entre such an intermediary stage, but in the wake of his extraordinary recovery, Fuji dropped him in. The fish demonstrated Fuji’s point by starting to scout out its new home. “I put him in your main tank a few days ago.”
Oishi watched as the tiny robot made the rounds in his quarantine tank, its movements just as realistic as its appearance. Though fascinating, and no doubt impressive, Oishi was intensely curious about Fuji's sudden interest in becoming a fledgling android aquarist. Nevermind how he'd gotten into his room in the first place. "Right, I see that. I still don't… understand…" He bent down to level its eyes with his own, squinting at the makeshift fish scrutinously. "Since when do you have an interest in fish?" If this could even be called that.
“It’s for a photography project,” Fuji told him. He peered in the opposite end of the tiny tank, watching Oishi’s cautious interest through the rippling water. The little robot fish swam up to where Oishi was peering at it through the glass. Something in its eye moved as the lens focussed. “It has a camera in it,” he added casually.
It couldn't be that simple. Things were never that simple with Fuji. It was also possible that a lack of sleep had increased Oishi's ever-growing paranoia. He thought on Fuji's words, humming, "If you wanted photos, I wouldn't have minded." The question of why Fuji wanted pictures of his fish wasn't something that entered his mind-- his fish were stunning and perfect, who wouldn't want pictures of them?
All in all, Fuji thought Oishi had taken the news that he had installed a spy fish in his fish tank several days ago rather well. Most people might have asked what photographs Fuji was taking along with the fish, but Oishi clearly couldn’t conceive that anything more would be wanted. What was more, in this instance he was perfectly right. The fish’s small lens was designed for underwater close-range footage and it couldn’t see much outside its aquatic home.
“I didn’t just want photos of the fish,” Fuji explained. “It’s going to be a complete fish experience.” He smiled at Oishi. “You’ll love it.” He nodded towards the big tank. “If you drop him back in, I’ll show you what he can see.”
"Hmm," Oishi let the tiny artificial fish do a couple more figure eights from one end of the small tank to the other, chewing his lip and then nodding slightly. He reached for the skimmer on the end of his dresser and gently lifted the tiny thing out by habit. It made a bit of a mechanical tick against the netting as he transferred it back over-- to the surprise and interest of his other, more alive fish. "I guess… something like that would be all right." He gave Fuji a sideways glance and then clarified quickly, "So long as it doesn't stress any of them out."
“Come on.” Fuji led the way out of Oishi’s room across the hallway to his own, where his laptop was sitting on the desk. When he had left, the screen had been blank, but now the newly resurrected fish was broadcasting its watery home to Fuji’s hard drive. Fuji examined it with approval. “Welcome to your tank.”
Intrigued by the prospect, (combined with a morbid curiosity), Oishi didn't hesitate in following Fuji back to his dorm, if only to assure he was telling the truth about this project of his. Though there weren't many nefarious things he figured Fuji had in mind for his aquarium. Even if he'd been curt with him at the slumber party a while ago, it wouldn't be in Fuji's style to go on a mass fish poisoning spree for it. "Wow," He examined the screen curiously, impressed by the quality of the video for how small a camera it must have been operating with, "so this is a project you're working on?" The little red phantom tetra he'd dubbed 'Eiji' swept by the camera, and Oishi chuckled, distracted by watching each of them school by before…
"Wait," The tiny robotic fish did another turn, and there were his and Niou's beds in full view, albeit pretty blurred and obscured through the glass, "… you can really see a lot of the dorm from here," he said, unsettled.
“It’s just because you know the layout,” Fuji told him reassuringly. Admittedly, since he did know what the bedroom looked like, he could see the beds and dimly make out a shape that might be the desk but nothing was in focus. The naked room-mates shots wouldn’t sell for much. “Why, Oishi, what have you been up to?”
"Hmm," Oishi tilted his head again, recognizing the pattern of his sheets and the textbooks he'd left in a pile earlier. Niou's side of the room looked startlingly recognizable as well, though that could have just been familiarity, like Fuji had said. For the most part, the room was a massive blur of colors and shapes. "I… guess. Still, you can't just go installing cameras into people's dorms without their knowledge," he frowned, "and I haven't been up to anything but laundry lately."
“You do know now,” Fuji told Oishi cheerfully. He examined the screen again, mentally running through what he had seen through the spy fish. It really had not been much and Fuji had been focussing on the water shots. He had seen Atsushi come and go (helped by the fact the catboy tended to peer in the tank) and there had been that other one time... “Relax Oishi. It’s only for a another few days.”
Somehow Oishi had counted on that sort of nonchalant answer. It was true there weren't many things he'd done in his dorm that were questionable enough to hold over his head, and looking through the lens again, the chances Fuji had seen more than a quick change of his shirt to climb into bed were relatively slim. Still, it was mostly the principle of the matter. "Does Niou know about this…?"
“Yes, he helped me install it,” Fuji replied, just as blithely. On his laptop screen, the red phantom tetra had come back for more juicy gossip with his robotic buddy. Seeing a small smile cross Oishi’s face, Fuji added, “Eiji is a pretty fish, Oishi.”
"… And neither of you thought to tell me…" Muttered Oishi, noting the way the other teen gently shrugged off that question. He had half a mind to return to his dorm and check for any other bugs around the place. … And count his fish again. Speaking of, "A-ah, thank you," he did find it hard to stay on-track with his thoughts when someone was paying compliments to his pets, "you have to pay special attention to their diet to get their color that vibrant."
“Anyone can tell they are beautifully looked after,” Fuji said, straightening from the fish cam. “Will you let me know if you see any problems with my fish or if the others run out of batteries?” He added, as a seeming afterthought.
Oishi flustered and rubbed his palm along the back of his neck, rising to stand along with Fuji, knowing there was likely a basket of scarves and suits awaiting him somewhere. "I… suppose I could do that," He muttered, making it a few steps toward the doorway before that second half caught up with him, "Wait, others?"
Fuji was still looking down at his laptop. As the fish did a blurry turn of the tank, he recalled again the one scene he glimpsed through the glass where the contortion of arms and legs had not involved Niou at all. That image had been barely distinguishable but the flash of red (helped by photoshop) was sufficient. “Next time, get ahold of Eiji’s tail, Oishi,” Fuji said to his friend. “He won’t wiggle so much.” And with that he lifted a hand in goodbye.
There weren't other robotic fish in his tank, were there? Fuji just had the one display on his screen… and there was no way Oishi could have missed a completely new school of fish appearing in his aquarium, could he…? He had been really busy lately. All these thoughts clouded him as Fuji very gently shuffled him out of the doorway, and he caught the very tail end (no pun intended) of Fuji's advice, "I-I wasn't--" And with that, Fuji's ever-smiling face was replaced with a door.