[Fic] Omelet (Gen, G, Jackal, Marui, Marui's brothers)
Title: Omelet
Rating: G/K
Characters: Marui, Jackal, Marui's brothers
Summary: Marui's kid brother wins a fish
Warnings: none, really
Wrote a snippet a while ago and decided to expand it. Comments appreciated!
Marui’s brothers have names. Jackal’s heard their names dozens of times, shouted or called or sometimes spoken in a perfectly normal volume voice by Marui’s parents. He knows their names. And yet in his head he can’t help thinking of them as Brat and Runt, since that’s what Marui calls them.
Well, not in public, usually - which is maybe why they aren’t answering now, with Marui irritably bellowing their given names. The two of them are all of ten meters away, completely focused on whatever simpleminded kiddie carnival game they’re playing. Well, the younger one - the one Marui calls Runt - is focused on the game. The other one is busy fiddling with his generic MP3 player, messing with the battery and the headphones. Jackal wonders if the kid won it at one of the carnival games or if he’s had it the whole time. He bets it has a lifetime of less than two weeks.
“Didn’t you dorks hear me calling you?” Marui is half-heartedly yelling, if it can even be called yelling. Jackal hangs back a little, hoping the people milling around the festival groups won’t pay too much attention to the rounding up of Marui’s little brothers. Marui chomps on his gum a few times and puts his fists on his hips. “We have to go home. I’m getting hungry.”
“Me too! You didn’t get us any snacks!” Brat - the older one - accuses, shoving the music player into a pocket.
“You could have used your money for a snack,” Marui points out the obvious, fists still on his hips.
“I was trying to win a stuffed animal,” Brat answers, shrugging and - Jackal isn’t sure - blushing? “There was this pink pony - I think I still have some money left! Can I go back to that game and try…”
“I got a fish!” Runt pipes up, holding a plastic baggie up above his head. The kid really is a runt, Jackal observes. Are all five year olds that tiny?
“Great,” Marui says, staring at the bag. “Now we have to buy it some food.”
--
They go to Marui’s house next. It’s not a long walk, not when you run twenty laps at tennis practice every day, but Marui’s brothers complain and eventually Jackal consents to letting Runt ride on his shoulders. The kid doesn’t weigh anything at all, but his dirty little heels poke into Jackal’s collar bones whenever he kicks. Once Runt is settled, Jackal feels something smooth and cold on top of his head. He almost trips but stops himself, because he can’t drop the little kid onto the sidewalk.
“What is that?” he asks, managing to laugh.
“My fish,” Runt answers, like it should be dead obvious. He removes the bag from Jackal’s head and holds it in front of his face, obscuring his vision. The tiny fish swims blurrily past Jackal’s eyes.
“Oh,” Jackal responds. “I can’t see with him in front of my face.”
“That’s why he’s gotta ride on top of your head!” Runt points out happily, settling the bag on top of Jackal’s head again.
“Fish head, fish head!” Brat sings, being extra bratty because he isn’t getting piggybacked and still has to walk.
“Dorks,” Marui says, shaking his head and blowing a green bubble. He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks over at Jackal. “I don’t know how a genius like me ended up in a family with them.”
--
When they get to Marui’s, everyone seems to have a different agenda. Brat runs off to his room, yelling something about how he’s going to complain when their parents get home that Marui wouldn’t let him play the pony game again. Marui goes straight to the kitchen, to hunt for food. Runt goes to the kitchen too, but starts digging through the cupboards, still holding his fish bag. Jackal stands around, like he usually does when he’s at Marui’s place, just standing by while they do their crazy Marui family stuff.
“Hungry?” Marui asks, shoving a plate at Jackal while simultaneously pushing something into the microwave. He takes the cover off the rice cooker and starts heaping rice onto his plate. “My mom made some kind of thing. It’s good.”
“I can’t find a bowl!” Runt moans, sitting on the kitchen floor with a bunch of plastic food containers all around him. His fish bag is on the floor next to him, and the pitiful little fish swims around in wobbly circles. Jackal wonders if he should feel bad for it.
“Use a jar or something,” Marui says, shoving open another cupboard for the kid. He pulls the warmed up dinner out of the microwave and piles some onto his plate before handing the serving spoon to Jackal. “Come on, let’s go watch TV or something.”
--
“I made it a new home!” Runt announces, stepping in front of the TV and holding up a big jar. There are remains of a paper label still sticking to part of the jar and the water inside is kind of murky. Somewhere inside, the fish is still swimming, his tiny mouth opening and closing. Open, close. Open, close.
“What was in there?” Marui asks immediately, frowning at the jar.
“Food,” Runt answers, not caring. “It makes a good house for Omelet.”
“What did you do with it?” Marui asks, worried. He stands up from the couch and heads for the kitchen. Jackal gets up more slowly, not wanting to get too involved.
“Crap!” he hears Marui yell from the kitchen. When he gets to the other room he sees Marui standing over the plastic garbage can, holding a big spoon and an empty Tupperware. The plastic containers Runt was sorting through earlier are still scattered all over the floor, along with several jars and pots of food. Jackal hopes none of them are supposed to be refrigerated.
“He dumped that whole jar of jelly in the trash,” Marui announces, looking between Jackal and the garbage can. It dawns on Jackal that Marui’s actually debating whether or not to scoop the jelly out of the garbage. He stomach does a little flip-flop. Marui peers into the can again and sighs. “Can’t save it,” he shrugs. “Too gross. But still…crap!”
Marui spends a good five minutes lecturing Runt about the jelly jar and wasting food. His little brother wibbles and nods through the whole thing.
“It was a dumb thing to do and Okaasan is going to be mad,” Marui says, finishing up. “Next time ask first. You could have put the fish into a vase or something.”
“This is kind of cool though, right?” Runt asks, grinning and holding up the jar for approval. Jackal thinks it still looks disgusting, especially now that he can recognize blobs of jelly floating in the cloudy water.
“Yeah, I guess.” Marui shrugs, chomping on his gum. “Except that you can barely see him in there.”
They manage to get the fish out of the jar long enough to clean it and fill it with clean water. The fish seems more relaxed then, swimming lazily around, his little gills pushing in and out. Runt finds a permanent marker and starts scribbling on the jar.
“How do you write ‘Omelet’?” he asks Jackal.
Jackal doesn’t know why in the world the kid wants to name his fish Omelet and he doesn’t ask. He coaches him through making the characters, which end up scrawled across the jar so that they obscure the view of the fish.
The sounds of the door opening and closing and Marui’s parents and grandmother jabbering interrupts Runt’s activity. Jackal watches the tiny kid scramble down from his chair, grab his fish jar, and bolt towards the entryway. Jackal can hear him yelling excitedly: “Look at my fish! I won it! I made it a home!”
“That’s nice,” Marui’s dad says.
“Did you boys get some food for it?” Marui’s mom asks.
“Did we have fish for dinner?” Marui’s grandmother questions.
“He dumped all the jelly in that jar into the trash,” Marui tattles.
“Nii-chan wouldn’t let me play the pony game!” Brat chimes in with the tattling.
“Because we had to come home and eat!” Marui accuses back.
Jackal decides it would probably be a good idea to go home.
--
Two days later Jackal is at Marui’s house again. He lets himself in, the way Marui’s told him to a hundred times, shoving his shoes off as he speaks above the sounds of people talking and the TV. “Hi!” he calls, tapping his shoes towards the wall and Runt’s Spiderman sneakers. “It’s just me, Jackal!”
“Jackal-niisan!” Runt moans urgently, scampering towards the entry way. He’s got his fish jar hugged to his chest and the fake plant that’s now inside bobs around in the water. He looks worried, more worried than any five year old kid should look. He holds the jar up for inspection. “Omelet’s sick.”
Marui appears belatedly behind his littlest brother, clenching his teeth and raising his eyebrows for a moment. “Dead,” he mouths, right before chewing down on a wad of gum. He steps close to Jackal, whispering under his breath. “It died yesterday. He won’t listen to us. He said you would know for sure.”
Jackal stares into the oversized jelly jar, then glances at Marui’s wibbling brother. The kid’s face is red and tears are streaming down the sides of his face. Inside the jelly jar, Omelet the goldfish floats on his side, his miniscule fish eyes blank and distant.
“I think he died,” Jackal finally says.
“Gotta flush him,” Marui announces decisively, sparing his youngest brother a brief but sorry look. He picks up the jar and walks to the toilet, pausing before dumping out the dead fish. “Any good-byes?”
His youngest brother shakes his head, wiping his eyes and snotty nose on the blue sleeve of his T-shirt. Brat appears and watches silently, chewing on his lower lip. Marui tips the jar into the toilet until the tiny fish splashes out, then pushes down the handle. Jackal watches the fish disappear in a whirl of water, sucked down into the watery grave of the sewer.
“Bye, Omelet,” Marui says, then ruffles his youngest brother’s hair before carrying the jar back to the kitchen.
Jackal looks down at Runt then. The little kid’s red face is still streaked with tears and there’s snot collecting around his nose. He hugs his fish jar to his chest, still half full of water and the plastic plant and half a dozen seashells.
“Sorry about your fish,” Jackal says, unsure of what else to say. “Anything I can do to make you feel better?”
Runt stares up at him with wet, red eyes before sniffling loudly and rubbing his nose with his bare arm. He mumbles something that Jackal doesn’t quite catch.
“What?” Jackal asks patiently, placing a hand on the kid’s shaky shoulder and trying to ignore the slimy trail on his arm.
“Snack,” Runt mumbles again, shuffling towards the kitchen. Jackal starts to wonder if everyone in Marui’s family has just been raised to believe that food will solve everything. They join Marui and Brat around a dish of melon pan, helping themselves to the snacks.
“We’ll get you a new fish, okay?” Marui tells Runt, ruffling his hair again. “We’ll go to the pet shop or something on Sunday.”
“I only want a fish that I win!” Runt sniffles back irritably, reaching for a bun with one hand while cradling his fish jar in the other arm.
“Let’s go to the next festival!” Brat pipes up, his mouth still full of food. He hurriedly swallows. “Do you think they’ll have those stuffed ponies at the games again? Cuz I really want to win one for…” He blushes and swallows again. “I just want one.”
“I wanna win a new fish!” Brat whines. “Not a sick one though!”
Jackal and Marui look at one another. Jackal wonders how he gets roped into this kind of stuff. Marui swallows his bite of melon pan and wipes his sugary fingers on his shorts. “Yeah, I guess we could go.”
Marui’s brothers cheer and Runt almost drops his fish jar. Marui flips out and sets it firmly on the table. “You’re using this same jar, okay? I don’t want to find a whole jar of pickles or something in the trash because you need a new jar.”
“I’m gonna name my new fish Omelet 2,” Runt announces happily, totally ignoring Marui’s lecture. He grabs for a marker on the table and starts to scribble a big number two on his jar. Jackal wonders how they’re even going to be able to the see the new fish with all of the scribbles and shells and the fake plant. He wonders if the new fish will live any longer than the first Omelet. He sure hopes so.
Maybe he’ll try winning a couple extra fish for back-up, just in case.
Rating: G/K
Characters: Marui, Jackal, Marui's brothers
Summary: Marui's kid brother wins a fish
Warnings: none, really
Wrote a snippet a while ago and decided to expand it. Comments appreciated!
Marui’s brothers have names. Jackal’s heard their names dozens of times, shouted or called or sometimes spoken in a perfectly normal volume voice by Marui’s parents. He knows their names. And yet in his head he can’t help thinking of them as Brat and Runt, since that’s what Marui calls them.
Well, not in public, usually - which is maybe why they aren’t answering now, with Marui irritably bellowing their given names. The two of them are all of ten meters away, completely focused on whatever simpleminded kiddie carnival game they’re playing. Well, the younger one - the one Marui calls Runt - is focused on the game. The other one is busy fiddling with his generic MP3 player, messing with the battery and the headphones. Jackal wonders if the kid won it at one of the carnival games or if he’s had it the whole time. He bets it has a lifetime of less than two weeks.
“Didn’t you dorks hear me calling you?” Marui is half-heartedly yelling, if it can even be called yelling. Jackal hangs back a little, hoping the people milling around the festival groups won’t pay too much attention to the rounding up of Marui’s little brothers. Marui chomps on his gum a few times and puts his fists on his hips. “We have to go home. I’m getting hungry.”
“Me too! You didn’t get us any snacks!” Brat - the older one - accuses, shoving the music player into a pocket.
“You could have used your money for a snack,” Marui points out the obvious, fists still on his hips.
“I was trying to win a stuffed animal,” Brat answers, shrugging and - Jackal isn’t sure - blushing? “There was this pink pony - I think I still have some money left! Can I go back to that game and try…”
“I got a fish!” Runt pipes up, holding a plastic baggie up above his head. The kid really is a runt, Jackal observes. Are all five year olds that tiny?
“Great,” Marui says, staring at the bag. “Now we have to buy it some food.”
--
They go to Marui’s house next. It’s not a long walk, not when you run twenty laps at tennis practice every day, but Marui’s brothers complain and eventually Jackal consents to letting Runt ride on his shoulders. The kid doesn’t weigh anything at all, but his dirty little heels poke into Jackal’s collar bones whenever he kicks. Once Runt is settled, Jackal feels something smooth and cold on top of his head. He almost trips but stops himself, because he can’t drop the little kid onto the sidewalk.
“What is that?” he asks, managing to laugh.
“My fish,” Runt answers, like it should be dead obvious. He removes the bag from Jackal’s head and holds it in front of his face, obscuring his vision. The tiny fish swims blurrily past Jackal’s eyes.
“Oh,” Jackal responds. “I can’t see with him in front of my face.”
“That’s why he’s gotta ride on top of your head!” Runt points out happily, settling the bag on top of Jackal’s head again.
“Fish head, fish head!” Brat sings, being extra bratty because he isn’t getting piggybacked and still has to walk.
“Dorks,” Marui says, shaking his head and blowing a green bubble. He shoves his hands into his pockets and looks over at Jackal. “I don’t know how a genius like me ended up in a family with them.”
--
When they get to Marui’s, everyone seems to have a different agenda. Brat runs off to his room, yelling something about how he’s going to complain when their parents get home that Marui wouldn’t let him play the pony game again. Marui goes straight to the kitchen, to hunt for food. Runt goes to the kitchen too, but starts digging through the cupboards, still holding his fish bag. Jackal stands around, like he usually does when he’s at Marui’s place, just standing by while they do their crazy Marui family stuff.
“Hungry?” Marui asks, shoving a plate at Jackal while simultaneously pushing something into the microwave. He takes the cover off the rice cooker and starts heaping rice onto his plate. “My mom made some kind of thing. It’s good.”
“I can’t find a bowl!” Runt moans, sitting on the kitchen floor with a bunch of plastic food containers all around him. His fish bag is on the floor next to him, and the pitiful little fish swims around in wobbly circles. Jackal wonders if he should feel bad for it.
“Use a jar or something,” Marui says, shoving open another cupboard for the kid. He pulls the warmed up dinner out of the microwave and piles some onto his plate before handing the serving spoon to Jackal. “Come on, let’s go watch TV or something.”
--
“I made it a new home!” Runt announces, stepping in front of the TV and holding up a big jar. There are remains of a paper label still sticking to part of the jar and the water inside is kind of murky. Somewhere inside, the fish is still swimming, his tiny mouth opening and closing. Open, close. Open, close.
“What was in there?” Marui asks immediately, frowning at the jar.
“Food,” Runt answers, not caring. “It makes a good house for Omelet.”
“What did you do with it?” Marui asks, worried. He stands up from the couch and heads for the kitchen. Jackal gets up more slowly, not wanting to get too involved.
“Crap!” he hears Marui yell from the kitchen. When he gets to the other room he sees Marui standing over the plastic garbage can, holding a big spoon and an empty Tupperware. The plastic containers Runt was sorting through earlier are still scattered all over the floor, along with several jars and pots of food. Jackal hopes none of them are supposed to be refrigerated.
“He dumped that whole jar of jelly in the trash,” Marui announces, looking between Jackal and the garbage can. It dawns on Jackal that Marui’s actually debating whether or not to scoop the jelly out of the garbage. He stomach does a little flip-flop. Marui peers into the can again and sighs. “Can’t save it,” he shrugs. “Too gross. But still…crap!”
Marui spends a good five minutes lecturing Runt about the jelly jar and wasting food. His little brother wibbles and nods through the whole thing.
“It was a dumb thing to do and Okaasan is going to be mad,” Marui says, finishing up. “Next time ask first. You could have put the fish into a vase or something.”
“This is kind of cool though, right?” Runt asks, grinning and holding up the jar for approval. Jackal thinks it still looks disgusting, especially now that he can recognize blobs of jelly floating in the cloudy water.
“Yeah, I guess.” Marui shrugs, chomping on his gum. “Except that you can barely see him in there.”
They manage to get the fish out of the jar long enough to clean it and fill it with clean water. The fish seems more relaxed then, swimming lazily around, his little gills pushing in and out. Runt finds a permanent marker and starts scribbling on the jar.
“How do you write ‘Omelet’?” he asks Jackal.
Jackal doesn’t know why in the world the kid wants to name his fish Omelet and he doesn’t ask. He coaches him through making the characters, which end up scrawled across the jar so that they obscure the view of the fish.
The sounds of the door opening and closing and Marui’s parents and grandmother jabbering interrupts Runt’s activity. Jackal watches the tiny kid scramble down from his chair, grab his fish jar, and bolt towards the entryway. Jackal can hear him yelling excitedly: “Look at my fish! I won it! I made it a home!”
“That’s nice,” Marui’s dad says.
“Did you boys get some food for it?” Marui’s mom asks.
“Did we have fish for dinner?” Marui’s grandmother questions.
“He dumped all the jelly in that jar into the trash,” Marui tattles.
“Nii-chan wouldn’t let me play the pony game!” Brat chimes in with the tattling.
“Because we had to come home and eat!” Marui accuses back.
Jackal decides it would probably be a good idea to go home.
--
Two days later Jackal is at Marui’s house again. He lets himself in, the way Marui’s told him to a hundred times, shoving his shoes off as he speaks above the sounds of people talking and the TV. “Hi!” he calls, tapping his shoes towards the wall and Runt’s Spiderman sneakers. “It’s just me, Jackal!”
“Jackal-niisan!” Runt moans urgently, scampering towards the entry way. He’s got his fish jar hugged to his chest and the fake plant that’s now inside bobs around in the water. He looks worried, more worried than any five year old kid should look. He holds the jar up for inspection. “Omelet’s sick.”
Marui appears belatedly behind his littlest brother, clenching his teeth and raising his eyebrows for a moment. “Dead,” he mouths, right before chewing down on a wad of gum. He steps close to Jackal, whispering under his breath. “It died yesterday. He won’t listen to us. He said you would know for sure.”
Jackal stares into the oversized jelly jar, then glances at Marui’s wibbling brother. The kid’s face is red and tears are streaming down the sides of his face. Inside the jelly jar, Omelet the goldfish floats on his side, his miniscule fish eyes blank and distant.
“I think he died,” Jackal finally says.
“Gotta flush him,” Marui announces decisively, sparing his youngest brother a brief but sorry look. He picks up the jar and walks to the toilet, pausing before dumping out the dead fish. “Any good-byes?”
His youngest brother shakes his head, wiping his eyes and snotty nose on the blue sleeve of his T-shirt. Brat appears and watches silently, chewing on his lower lip. Marui tips the jar into the toilet until the tiny fish splashes out, then pushes down the handle. Jackal watches the fish disappear in a whirl of water, sucked down into the watery grave of the sewer.
“Bye, Omelet,” Marui says, then ruffles his youngest brother’s hair before carrying the jar back to the kitchen.
Jackal looks down at Runt then. The little kid’s red face is still streaked with tears and there’s snot collecting around his nose. He hugs his fish jar to his chest, still half full of water and the plastic plant and half a dozen seashells.
“Sorry about your fish,” Jackal says, unsure of what else to say. “Anything I can do to make you feel better?”
Runt stares up at him with wet, red eyes before sniffling loudly and rubbing his nose with his bare arm. He mumbles something that Jackal doesn’t quite catch.
“What?” Jackal asks patiently, placing a hand on the kid’s shaky shoulder and trying to ignore the slimy trail on his arm.
“Snack,” Runt mumbles again, shuffling towards the kitchen. Jackal starts to wonder if everyone in Marui’s family has just been raised to believe that food will solve everything. They join Marui and Brat around a dish of melon pan, helping themselves to the snacks.
“We’ll get you a new fish, okay?” Marui tells Runt, ruffling his hair again. “We’ll go to the pet shop or something on Sunday.”
“I only want a fish that I win!” Runt sniffles back irritably, reaching for a bun with one hand while cradling his fish jar in the other arm.
“Let’s go to the next festival!” Brat pipes up, his mouth still full of food. He hurriedly swallows. “Do you think they’ll have those stuffed ponies at the games again? Cuz I really want to win one for…” He blushes and swallows again. “I just want one.”
“I wanna win a new fish!” Brat whines. “Not a sick one though!”
Jackal and Marui look at one another. Jackal wonders how he gets roped into this kind of stuff. Marui swallows his bite of melon pan and wipes his sugary fingers on his shorts. “Yeah, I guess we could go.”
Marui’s brothers cheer and Runt almost drops his fish jar. Marui flips out and sets it firmly on the table. “You’re using this same jar, okay? I don’t want to find a whole jar of pickles or something in the trash because you need a new jar.”
“I’m gonna name my new fish Omelet 2,” Runt announces happily, totally ignoring Marui’s lecture. He grabs for a marker on the table and starts to scribble a big number two on his jar. Jackal wonders how they’re even going to be able to the see the new fish with all of the scribbles and shells and the fake plant. He wonders if the new fish will live any longer than the first Omelet. He sure hopes so.
Maybe he’ll try winning a couple extra fish for back-up, just in case.