bunnyfic 33
OKAY. FINE. EDITING IS FOR THE WEAK. OIWHOUHEG, FAIL. *________* &POSTS;
M15 & Assortments.
( 33: a selective competence )
Miyata started, with suddenly nothing but air in his hand. "Yuuta?" He looked around-- "Yuuta?" --and stood, shouting-- "Yuuta!" --heart thudding hard in a burst of panic.
The way Tamamori had just called his name now sounded like a mocking echo. People didn't just disappear from cybersex. Miyata was in the scenario, and he had half a mess on him that proved Tamamori had been there too, until just a moment ago -- what had gone wrong? Something had to have happened.
"Freeze this," Miyata said, quick-accessing his work codes, and stepped back a few paces. "Freeze, format: archive all. Execute archive. Playback from one minute prior. Execute playback."
Immediately the frozen cove scenario's stilled waves and cold sands were overlaid with a recording of the cove as it had been just a minute ago. And Miyata kissed Tamamori's cheek. "Mmm, you're wonderful," he saw himself say, the words sounding distant, feeling worse. And then Tamamori was on his back, Miyata above him, Tamamori's long legs stretched out and gorgeous, toes curling, and his face…
Miyata swallowed the lump in his throat and tore his eyes away, forcing himself to look past the scene. "Flatscreen: scroll base code," he ordered, and scanned the sequences that popped up for anything familiar. Miyata knew Tamamori's coding style well enough -- he'd be able to tell if the other had used some sort of automated script to log out of his own volition. Fervently, Miyata wished that to be the case. Even if it would leave a million questions, he could wait for their answers. Tamamori'd said I won't leave you and Miyata had believed him after all. Still believed him.
If instead... if it'd been government code that'd kicked Tamamori from the network, Miyata wasn't sure what he could do. His mind spun as he scanned the scrolling code -- there'd have to be something. He could -- he would satellite-hack Tamamori's location if he had to, get around that scrambler somehow. Plant false data to lead any chasers to the wrong location -- sabotage it, consequences be damned -- and get out there and find Tamamori himself, and save him like a superhero, then...
And then, if Miyata could do all that, then...
Then what?
They could... live together, maybe? Illegal, wanted. Miyata maybe wouldn't be able to get online again ever, but he could learn to live with that if it was with Tamamori. And maybe he'd have earned the right to be by his side, then, if this turned out. Miyata didn't have much else to offer, but he'd promised himself that the government wouldn't touch Tamamori so long as Miyata was there, and--
There.
There it was, the disconnect. "Flatscreen: pause," Miyata said. "Revert one half-second prior."
It was such a small line of code he'd almost missed it. Brows knotted, Miyata stared. And the lead in his stomach sank and pooled in the soles of his feet.
FD.
"Terminate," Miyata said, fading the frozen cove and overlaid feed from view.
He was back in his apartment when he slowly, slowly opened his eyes and lifted his netgear off, massaging his temples a bit, adrenaline drained.
It hadn't been anything sinister at all.
The moment of Tamamori's disappearance had only cited a regular, run of the mill forced disconnect, originating from Tamamori's own netgear. Which meant Tamamori'd either been knocked out, or passed out. Miyata's brow furrowed. Was Tamamori just... that sensitive? It was hard to comprehend. The timing was just a bit too good for it to have been a chaser catching him out in the real world, and Miyata had witnessed Tamamori's proximity warning systems activate often enough to know that the chances of anything surprising the other were slim-to-none besides. Even in the midst of a cyber session.
Miyata bit his lip as he thought, getting up to change out of the uncomfortable mess he'd made of his pants. Well, okay. So maybe Tamamori'd... screwed himself over a bit there, but it didn't matter either way. He was out cold in the real world somewhere, and Miyata had been under surveillance. Which meant that somebody had been monitoring him. Which meant that Tamamori's FD would have been noticed. Truce or no truce over Miyata turncoating Takizawa's lot, the government had to know they weren't going to get the drop on an advanced codesman like Tamamori again so easily.
Miyata'd never had a lot of faith in his department's collective intelligence, a handful of supervisors aside, but if there was a single being there with two synapses strung together, a real world chaser would be sent out after Tamamori very soon.
Miyata needed to stop that from happening. Get to Tamamori first. Get him away.
But he couldn't get the real-time data offsite. Things like target and chaser tracking were under heavy encryption and since Miyata didn't work from home, he didn't have the access codes for it.
In a fresh pair of pants, Miyata grabbed his netgear and headed out, running for the turbolift. He'd have to get to work.
*
Usually not having a body wasn't too big a problem.
Iida was generally okay without a physical presence out in the real world. He knew on a practical level that he wasn't missing much. The real world itself wasn't too vital an experience to someone who'd already been there, done that, once upon a time. He still had Yokoo's company often enough, and sometimes the other guys visited, too. Taipi. Kitayama. Iida didn't really get lonely or bored -- there were always processes to run, errants and charges to watch...
Of course.
He ran a sigh through his system, redirecting coolant around the sides of his servers to avoid a minor meltdown.
There were always charges to watch.
Naturally, it was those charges that made him most regretful of being not-quite-alive. The world was a bother when you couldn't do anything yourself.
Page Wataru, he instructed, ignoring subroutines that were all a-skitter.
A moment later, Yokoo's familiar vocal frequency filled the whiteroom. "Kyon?"
"Is Taipi with you?" Iida asked, already not looking forward to this as much as anything artificial could be reluctant.
A beat. "Physically, yes," Yokoo said. "Mentally, not quite."
"…is he busy?"
"Locked in a battle for male supremacy with Fumito?" Yokoo's shrug was almost audible. "He's been busier."
"Alright, well… if you think you can break them up..." Iida sighed, forcing the data packet through: "I've got a favour to ask."
*
As it turned out three minutes later, with all four of them present in the whiteroom, the problem wasn't so much getting Fujigaya and Kawai's attention as perhaps keeping it focused. And ensuring neither one hacked up a lung in hysterics.
"Say that again, Ii-chan," Fujigaya laughed.
"You heard him the first time, Taisuke," Yokoo admonished. But he was grinning, too.
"Were you watching?" Kawai cackled, spinning on his back like an overturned turtle. Round and round on the whiteroom floor.
"I wasn't watching," Iida said sullenly. "Which is why time is a little short at the moment-"
"Tsk, tsk~" Fujigaya snickered. "Neglecting your duties, Ii-chan? That's no good."
"Would you have watched them?" Iida said. "That's just-"
"Sure I would," Fujigaya grinned, to Kawai's redoubled laughter. "That charge of yours is plenty hot these days. It'd be like watching a regular porno with the ugly guy and the pretty little-"
"What about Senga?" Iida protested. "Your own charge."
There was a pause in thought, before Fujigaya said slyly, "Depends on the circumstances~"
"Liar," Kawai declared. "You'd watch him any day, just like Tono."
"I'm with Fumito on that bet," Yokoo agreed. "But-"
"No, I'll tell you what I'd do: I'd get in on the action any day, is what I'd do."
"-but," Yokoo cleared his throat. "Time is of the essence." He smiled. "They've already triangulated 74-M's location, as Kyon said, so a chaser dispatch-"
"Happened thirteen seconds ago, actually," Iida said. "Tamamori is at the first quadrant, division thirty. Eighth building, first floor, so-"
"Awesome," Kawai said. "I know my way around there."
Fujigaya gave him a raised eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Who says you're coming with?"
"I totally am," Kawai grinned. "You hate working alone."
"You didn't come last time I asked," Fujigaya frowned.
"That's because Onodera didn't knock himself out having hot, steamy cybersex," Kawai crowed. "I need details! Where, when, or it doesn't sound authentic when you tell it."
"You're retarded if that's your most pressing concern right now," Fujigaya snerked.
"You're just jealous." Kawai grinned widely.
"Why'd I be jealous of a cyber? Or you?"
Yokoo clapped twice, interrupting them. "Gentlemen, save it for the road. Since you don't need a map, you should be gone. And get Kitayama in here on your way out."
Fujigaya glanced at Kawai and, with each a look of unholy glee, their avatars winked out of the whiteroom.
"…sometimes," Iida said into the ensuing silence, "life bothers me."
"Well," Yokoo said absently, "that's nothing compared to what the cyber pair are going to get when we bring them in." He had a flatscreen up, scanning code.
Iida chuckled. "I didn't say we were bringing in M15."
"But it's the logical thing to do," Yokoo grinned. "Isn't it."
"I suppose," Iida allowed. "Though it's going to be tough to hide him if he ever wants to go online again, slicing a new sequence, disguising his netgear's mental signature…"
Yokoo snorted. "You could do it with your eyes closed."
"No, no..." Iida said. "I think this would actually be difficult."
"Rubbish. If you can't be bothered, then get 74-M to figure it out. He owes us for this anyway."
"…I like the sound of that."
"Think happy thoughts, Kyon," Yokoo said, as the whiteroom pinged an announcement of Kitayama's login. "Oh, and I've tagged M15's sequence. If he shows up again before I get back, do whatever it takes to capture his consciousness, and keep it caught."
"Understood," Iida said as Yokoo disappeared from sight.
*
"Nikaido!" Kitayama shouted, a short time later. His voice bounced down the hall surprisingly loud.
"Piss off, Kitayama!" Nikaido shouted back through a wall.
A grand smile on his face, Kitayama threw open the door to Senga's room and strode inside. Well, Senga-and-Nikaido's room these days. Like most of the rooms in Takizawa's house - and indeed, most of the rooms in the Capital at large - it subscribed to the notion of economy of space. But the small area was still messy.
A pile of blankets fidgeted in the gap between the two empty beds, and presently Senga's head emerged from one end of it. "Hiromii!" he beamed, hair impossibly tousled. "What's up?"
"Your playmate's coming with me," Kitayama grinned. And then to Nikaido said: "Skates on, and be quick about it."
Nikaido grouched, irritable as he fumbled out a pair of pants and tugged them on over his boxers. "Your timing really sucks, you know."
"Hey, it's not mine," Kitayama said, too merry. "Blame your hacker friend."
Nikaido arched a brow, pausing. "Tamamori?" He had a few hacker friends, but Tamamori was the sort of the unit of measure there...
"What happened to him?" Senga asked, chewing his upper lip.
Kitayama shrugged over a lazy grin, and crossed his arms. "Nothing major. Kid couldn't handle his own hormones, is all."
Nikaido frowned, posting his hands on his hips. "Tama-chan's too clean to be a rush junkie."
Kitayama rolled his eyes. "He didn't OD, just FD'd. And it wasn't a trip either, unless regular old sex counts these days."
"What kind of sex?" Senga wanted to know.
Kitayama gave a look that said Ken-chan, you're being stupid. "How about you ask him yourself when he's brought in."
"What, you don't know?" Nikaido smirked.
"Why would I ask about a first-time cyber?"
"Yeah?"
"It was a hand-job, okay? Just hurry the hell up and get your skates on."
Nikaido laughed. Senga, meanwhile, looked like he was thinking very hard. "How's that even possible though?" he said. "I mean, you can't pass out from just that... right?"
"I'm sure he just programmed one too many nerve ends into his virtual cock," Kitayama said dryly.
Nikaido wrinkled his nose, slapping his boot straps down. "Whatever, you know. He's not going to stay either way. Even if we bring him here again, he's just going to leave. He's got like, problems."
"Actually, we're not bringing him in," Kitayama grinned.
Nikaido stared, annoyed. "Then what am I dressed for!" Pointedly, he looked back at the pile of blankets Senga was still burrowed in.
Kitayama turned to Senga. "Your friend, Miyata?"
Senga blinked for a moment, before understanding dawned on his face. "Ohhh..."
"What?" Nikaido snapped, feeling left out.
Senga beamed up at him. "They're Romeo and Juliet."
"Exactly," Kitayama said. "And we're going to stop Romeo from getting himself killed, and bring them both back here."
"Who the fuck's Romeo and Juliet?" Nikaido demanded.
"Are you ready to go, Nika-chan?" Kitayama asked instead.
"Don't change the subject like that," Nikaido frowned, tugging at his laces. "Why don't you just go if you're in such a hurry."
"Good as I am," Kitayama drawled, "I'd rather not stop a Mass Public Transport with my own bare hands."
Nikaido squinted at him. "We're hijacking an MPT? That's retarded. Those things are huge."
Kitayama shrugged. "Well thanks to people dawdling all over the shop, M15's already aboard one headed for the main government offices. He'll get there and be impossible to pick up if we don't hurry."
"Why didn't you just say so," Nikaido glowered, throwing on his arm wraps and stomping out of the room. "Let's go already."
"What a bright idea," Kitayama said, but paused in the doorway regardless, looking over his shoulder. "Go ahead and sleep, Ken-chan. This might take a while."
"I'm gonna go sit with Boss Tackey," Senga said, getting up.
Nikaido stuck his head back in, looking affronted. "What the hell for."
Senga's eyes narrowed. "He gets all the updates! I hate being left out." But then his face softened as he pulled a sheet tighter around his shoulders. "Good luck, okay?"
Kitayama jabbed Nikaido in the chest, conveniently dispelling the giant squooshy lump that'd suddenly lodged there. "Get going, Nika," he said. "And Ken-chan? Clothes, if updates are all you're after."
Senga looked down at his makeshift toga. "Oh, right. Those things."
"Yeah, those things," Kitayama said. "Minor detail." And dragged Nikaido's incoherent protests away before they got too violent.
1- if i write anything even half this size ever again, there will be either nobody on the opposing side, or fully half of them over there. it is far too much exposition for just one character to bear, i think. lawl. anyway. sad for them.
2- this was written days ago but i KEPT FIDDLING WITH IT. if there is anything still wrong, i will fix it later.
3- EDITING IS FOR THE WEAAAAAK.
4- ...ah, three minutes late. 8D; *sleep*
M15 & Assortments.
( 33: a selective competence )
Miyata started, with suddenly nothing but air in his hand. "Yuuta?" He looked around-- "Yuuta?" --and stood, shouting-- "Yuuta!" --heart thudding hard in a burst of panic.
The way Tamamori had just called his name now sounded like a mocking echo. People didn't just disappear from cybersex. Miyata was in the scenario, and he had half a mess on him that proved Tamamori had been there too, until just a moment ago -- what had gone wrong? Something had to have happened.
"Freeze this," Miyata said, quick-accessing his work codes, and stepped back a few paces. "Freeze, format: archive all. Execute archive. Playback from one minute prior. Execute playback."
Immediately the frozen cove scenario's stilled waves and cold sands were overlaid with a recording of the cove as it had been just a minute ago. And Miyata kissed Tamamori's cheek. "Mmm, you're wonderful," he saw himself say, the words sounding distant, feeling worse. And then Tamamori was on his back, Miyata above him, Tamamori's long legs stretched out and gorgeous, toes curling, and his face…
Miyata swallowed the lump in his throat and tore his eyes away, forcing himself to look past the scene. "Flatscreen: scroll base code," he ordered, and scanned the sequences that popped up for anything familiar. Miyata knew Tamamori's coding style well enough -- he'd be able to tell if the other had used some sort of automated script to log out of his own volition. Fervently, Miyata wished that to be the case. Even if it would leave a million questions, he could wait for their answers. Tamamori'd said I won't leave you and Miyata had believed him after all. Still believed him.
If instead... if it'd been government code that'd kicked Tamamori from the network, Miyata wasn't sure what he could do. His mind spun as he scanned the scrolling code -- there'd have to be something. He could -- he would satellite-hack Tamamori's location if he had to, get around that scrambler somehow. Plant false data to lead any chasers to the wrong location -- sabotage it, consequences be damned -- and get out there and find Tamamori himself, and save him like a superhero, then...
And then, if Miyata could do all that, then...
Then what?
They could... live together, maybe? Illegal, wanted. Miyata maybe wouldn't be able to get online again ever, but he could learn to live with that if it was with Tamamori. And maybe he'd have earned the right to be by his side, then, if this turned out. Miyata didn't have much else to offer, but he'd promised himself that the government wouldn't touch Tamamori so long as Miyata was there, and--
There.
There it was, the disconnect. "Flatscreen: pause," Miyata said. "Revert one half-second prior."
It was such a small line of code he'd almost missed it. Brows knotted, Miyata stared. And the lead in his stomach sank and pooled in the soles of his feet.
FD.
"Terminate," Miyata said, fading the frozen cove and overlaid feed from view.
He was back in his apartment when he slowly, slowly opened his eyes and lifted his netgear off, massaging his temples a bit, adrenaline drained.
It hadn't been anything sinister at all.
The moment of Tamamori's disappearance had only cited a regular, run of the mill forced disconnect, originating from Tamamori's own netgear. Which meant Tamamori'd either been knocked out, or passed out. Miyata's brow furrowed. Was Tamamori just... that sensitive? It was hard to comprehend. The timing was just a bit too good for it to have been a chaser catching him out in the real world, and Miyata had witnessed Tamamori's proximity warning systems activate often enough to know that the chances of anything surprising the other were slim-to-none besides. Even in the midst of a cyber session.
Miyata bit his lip as he thought, getting up to change out of the uncomfortable mess he'd made of his pants. Well, okay. So maybe Tamamori'd... screwed himself over a bit there, but it didn't matter either way. He was out cold in the real world somewhere, and Miyata had been under surveillance. Which meant that somebody had been monitoring him. Which meant that Tamamori's FD would have been noticed. Truce or no truce over Miyata turncoating Takizawa's lot, the government had to know they weren't going to get the drop on an advanced codesman like Tamamori again so easily.
Miyata'd never had a lot of faith in his department's collective intelligence, a handful of supervisors aside, but if there was a single being there with two synapses strung together, a real world chaser would be sent out after Tamamori very soon.
Miyata needed to stop that from happening. Get to Tamamori first. Get him away.
But he couldn't get the real-time data offsite. Things like target and chaser tracking were under heavy encryption and since Miyata didn't work from home, he didn't have the access codes for it.
In a fresh pair of pants, Miyata grabbed his netgear and headed out, running for the turbolift. He'd have to get to work.
*
Usually not having a body wasn't too big a problem.
Iida was generally okay without a physical presence out in the real world. He knew on a practical level that he wasn't missing much. The real world itself wasn't too vital an experience to someone who'd already been there, done that, once upon a time. He still had Yokoo's company often enough, and sometimes the other guys visited, too. Taipi. Kitayama. Iida didn't really get lonely or bored -- there were always processes to run, errants and charges to watch...
Of course.
He ran a sigh through his system, redirecting coolant around the sides of his servers to avoid a minor meltdown.
There were always charges to watch.
Naturally, it was those charges that made him most regretful of being not-quite-alive. The world was a bother when you couldn't do anything yourself.
Page Wataru, he instructed, ignoring subroutines that were all a-skitter.
A moment later, Yokoo's familiar vocal frequency filled the whiteroom. "Kyon?"
"Is Taipi with you?" Iida asked, already not looking forward to this as much as anything artificial could be reluctant.
A beat. "Physically, yes," Yokoo said. "Mentally, not quite."
"…is he busy?"
"Locked in a battle for male supremacy with Fumito?" Yokoo's shrug was almost audible. "He's been busier."
"Alright, well… if you think you can break them up..." Iida sighed, forcing the data packet through: "I've got a favour to ask."
*
As it turned out three minutes later, with all four of them present in the whiteroom, the problem wasn't so much getting Fujigaya and Kawai's attention as perhaps keeping it focused. And ensuring neither one hacked up a lung in hysterics.
"Say that again, Ii-chan," Fujigaya laughed.
"You heard him the first time, Taisuke," Yokoo admonished. But he was grinning, too.
"Were you watching?" Kawai cackled, spinning on his back like an overturned turtle. Round and round on the whiteroom floor.
"I wasn't watching," Iida said sullenly. "Which is why time is a little short at the moment-"
"Tsk, tsk~" Fujigaya snickered. "Neglecting your duties, Ii-chan? That's no good."
"Would you have watched them?" Iida said. "That's just-"
"Sure I would," Fujigaya grinned, to Kawai's redoubled laughter. "That charge of yours is plenty hot these days. It'd be like watching a regular porno with the ugly guy and the pretty little-"
"What about Senga?" Iida protested. "Your own charge."
There was a pause in thought, before Fujigaya said slyly, "Depends on the circumstances~"
"Liar," Kawai declared. "You'd watch him any day, just like Tono."
"I'm with Fumito on that bet," Yokoo agreed. "But-"
"No, I'll tell you what I'd do: I'd get in on the action any day, is what I'd do."
"-but," Yokoo cleared his throat. "Time is of the essence." He smiled. "They've already triangulated 74-M's location, as Kyon said, so a chaser dispatch-"
"Happened thirteen seconds ago, actually," Iida said. "Tamamori is at the first quadrant, division thirty. Eighth building, first floor, so-"
"Awesome," Kawai said. "I know my way around there."
Fujigaya gave him a raised eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Who says you're coming with?"
"I totally am," Kawai grinned. "You hate working alone."
"You didn't come last time I asked," Fujigaya frowned.
"That's because Onodera didn't knock himself out having hot, steamy cybersex," Kawai crowed. "I need details! Where, when, or it doesn't sound authentic when you tell it."
"You're retarded if that's your most pressing concern right now," Fujigaya snerked.
"You're just jealous." Kawai grinned widely.
"Why'd I be jealous of a cyber? Or you?"
Yokoo clapped twice, interrupting them. "Gentlemen, save it for the road. Since you don't need a map, you should be gone. And get Kitayama in here on your way out."
Fujigaya glanced at Kawai and, with each a look of unholy glee, their avatars winked out of the whiteroom.
"…sometimes," Iida said into the ensuing silence, "life bothers me."
"Well," Yokoo said absently, "that's nothing compared to what the cyber pair are going to get when we bring them in." He had a flatscreen up, scanning code.
Iida chuckled. "I didn't say we were bringing in M15."
"But it's the logical thing to do," Yokoo grinned. "Isn't it."
"I suppose," Iida allowed. "Though it's going to be tough to hide him if he ever wants to go online again, slicing a new sequence, disguising his netgear's mental signature…"
Yokoo snorted. "You could do it with your eyes closed."
"No, no..." Iida said. "I think this would actually be difficult."
"Rubbish. If you can't be bothered, then get 74-M to figure it out. He owes us for this anyway."
"…I like the sound of that."
"Think happy thoughts, Kyon," Yokoo said, as the whiteroom pinged an announcement of Kitayama's login. "Oh, and I've tagged M15's sequence. If he shows up again before I get back, do whatever it takes to capture his consciousness, and keep it caught."
"Understood," Iida said as Yokoo disappeared from sight.
*
"Nikaido!" Kitayama shouted, a short time later. His voice bounced down the hall surprisingly loud.
"Piss off, Kitayama!" Nikaido shouted back through a wall.
A grand smile on his face, Kitayama threw open the door to Senga's room and strode inside. Well, Senga-and-Nikaido's room these days. Like most of the rooms in Takizawa's house - and indeed, most of the rooms in the Capital at large - it subscribed to the notion of economy of space. But the small area was still messy.
A pile of blankets fidgeted in the gap between the two empty beds, and presently Senga's head emerged from one end of it. "Hiromii!" he beamed, hair impossibly tousled. "What's up?"
"Your playmate's coming with me," Kitayama grinned. And then to Nikaido said: "Skates on, and be quick about it."
Nikaido grouched, irritable as he fumbled out a pair of pants and tugged them on over his boxers. "Your timing really sucks, you know."
"Hey, it's not mine," Kitayama said, too merry. "Blame your hacker friend."
Nikaido arched a brow, pausing. "Tamamori?" He had a few hacker friends, but Tamamori was the sort of the unit of measure there...
"What happened to him?" Senga asked, chewing his upper lip.
Kitayama shrugged over a lazy grin, and crossed his arms. "Nothing major. Kid couldn't handle his own hormones, is all."
Nikaido frowned, posting his hands on his hips. "Tama-chan's too clean to be a rush junkie."
Kitayama rolled his eyes. "He didn't OD, just FD'd. And it wasn't a trip either, unless regular old sex counts these days."
"What kind of sex?" Senga wanted to know.
Kitayama gave a look that said Ken-chan, you're being stupid. "How about you ask him yourself when he's brought in."
"What, you don't know?" Nikaido smirked.
"Why would I ask about a first-time cyber?"
"Yeah?"
"It was a hand-job, okay? Just hurry the hell up and get your skates on."
Nikaido laughed. Senga, meanwhile, looked like he was thinking very hard. "How's that even possible though?" he said. "I mean, you can't pass out from just that... right?"
"I'm sure he just programmed one too many nerve ends into his virtual cock," Kitayama said dryly.
Nikaido wrinkled his nose, slapping his boot straps down. "Whatever, you know. He's not going to stay either way. Even if we bring him here again, he's just going to leave. He's got like, problems."
"Actually, we're not bringing him in," Kitayama grinned.
Nikaido stared, annoyed. "Then what am I dressed for!" Pointedly, he looked back at the pile of blankets Senga was still burrowed in.
Kitayama turned to Senga. "Your friend, Miyata?"
Senga blinked for a moment, before understanding dawned on his face. "Ohhh..."
"What?" Nikaido snapped, feeling left out.
Senga beamed up at him. "They're Romeo and Juliet."
"Exactly," Kitayama said. "And we're going to stop Romeo from getting himself killed, and bring them both back here."
"Who the fuck's Romeo and Juliet?" Nikaido demanded.
"Are you ready to go, Nika-chan?" Kitayama asked instead.
"Don't change the subject like that," Nikaido frowned, tugging at his laces. "Why don't you just go if you're in such a hurry."
"Good as I am," Kitayama drawled, "I'd rather not stop a Mass Public Transport with my own bare hands."
Nikaido squinted at him. "We're hijacking an MPT? That's retarded. Those things are huge."
Kitayama shrugged. "Well thanks to people dawdling all over the shop, M15's already aboard one headed for the main government offices. He'll get there and be impossible to pick up if we don't hurry."
"Why didn't you just say so," Nikaido glowered, throwing on his arm wraps and stomping out of the room. "Let's go already."
"What a bright idea," Kitayama said, but paused in the doorway regardless, looking over his shoulder. "Go ahead and sleep, Ken-chan. This might take a while."
"I'm gonna go sit with Boss Tackey," Senga said, getting up.
Nikaido stuck his head back in, looking affronted. "What the hell for."
Senga's eyes narrowed. "He gets all the updates! I hate being left out." But then his face softened as he pulled a sheet tighter around his shoulders. "Good luck, okay?"
Kitayama jabbed Nikaido in the chest, conveniently dispelling the giant squooshy lump that'd suddenly lodged there. "Get going, Nika," he said. "And Ken-chan? Clothes, if updates are all you're after."
Senga looked down at his makeshift toga. "Oh, right. Those things."
"Yeah, those things," Kitayama said. "Minor detail." And dragged Nikaido's incoherent protests away before they got too violent.
1- if i write anything even half this size ever again, there will be either nobody on the opposing side, or fully half of them over there. it is far too much exposition for just one character to bear, i think. lawl. anyway. sad for them.
2- this was written days ago but i KEPT FIDDLING WITH IT. if there is anything still wrong, i will fix it later.
3- EDITING IS FOR THE WEAAAAAK.
4- ...ah, three minutes late. 8D; *sleep*