2 short fics
Nothing really special here, but Nisaki they are. X3 The second is for 4seasons_fics, which is a pretty fun place for anyone who's looking for a fic challenge community. There are three open spots for Nightmare writers!
Title: The Man-Cold
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Comments: Pure fluff, inspired by Niya's part in this interview.
Imb dyig.
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Title: Misconstrued
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Comments: Sakito has a secret. Not exactly angsty, but heading in that direction? One-sided love, non-AU.
Gentle breezes carried only a whisper of the chill early autumn promised, along with the first of the painted leaves. They fell quavering like butterflies, in faded yellows and browns, the colors of gold finches or healing bruises, depending on how one choose to look at it. Not the impassioned reds and oranges of late October. Even the heart of Tokyo was splashed with a yellow bough here, a crunchy pile there. Sakito couldn’t stay away from the measured decay of color.
Breaking from practice early wasn’t his normal approach to work. Doubtless the others were wondering why he seemed so listless that day, but not one would never ever figure it out. And that was what bothered him enough to push out the back door, wrapped tightly in his sweater. The trees greeted him with a hearty rustle, an stiff breeze picking up to shake down the leaves. Eventually it would strip them bare, Sakito’s wry thoughts compared himself to their dilemma. So much time being buffeted along by the gale inside would do the same to him. Maybe then…maybe then….
The door opening cautiously behind him alerted Sakito he was about to have company. “There you are,” Niya’s low voice carried on the wind tunneling in the entryway. “Are we going to keep practicing or…?”
He sounded mildly confused and perhaps a tiny bit worried. Sakito moved his hand away from where he had been absently playing with his necklace and turned slightly. “Huh? Oh…I guess we’ll keep going shortly. I just…needed some air.”
“Are you okay? You sound a little funny.” Niya came out and closed the door behind him. Perhaps it was odd to be standing in the mostly empty parking lot for no apparent reason, Sakito considered. The bassist certainly looked concerned about it.
“No, it’s nothing. I’m probably getting sick from working too hard lately.”
Niya nodded sagely and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “There’s been a bug going around the office.”
No, that wasn’t it at all. They stood in vacant silence for several minutes, a steady trickle of tiny, shriveled leaves falling on them from the closest tree. Sakito tried to pretend he had the courage continuously eluding him, “Niya…”
“Hm?” Innocently expectant eyes gazed steadily over at him.
“Er…never mind.” Turning, Sakito was ready to walk back inside and play until his fingers hurt too much to think about anything but.
But Niya’s request stopped him cold, hopeful. “Wait…hold still…” Sakito stopped, feeling his throat constrict in apprehension. Slowly, carefully, Niya reached out, gaze seemingly steady on his face. Fingers brushed past his cheek, past his hair, retracting altogether too soon. When Sakito opened his eyes again, having not realized they were closed, he saw Niya shrug casually and hold up something crinkled and brown.
“Sorry, you had a leaf in your hair.”
Title: The Man-Cold
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Comments: Pure fluff, inspired by Niya's part in this interview.
Imb dyig.
---
Title: Misconstrued
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Comments: Sakito has a secret. Not exactly angsty, but heading in that direction? One-sided love, non-AU.
Gentle breezes carried only a whisper of the chill early autumn promised, along with the first of the painted leaves. They fell quavering like butterflies, in faded yellows and browns, the colors of gold finches or healing bruises, depending on how one choose to look at it. Not the impassioned reds and oranges of late October. Even the heart of Tokyo was splashed with a yellow bough here, a crunchy pile there. Sakito couldn’t stay away from the measured decay of color.
Breaking from practice early wasn’t his normal approach to work. Doubtless the others were wondering why he seemed so listless that day, but not one would never ever figure it out. And that was what bothered him enough to push out the back door, wrapped tightly in his sweater. The trees greeted him with a hearty rustle, an stiff breeze picking up to shake down the leaves. Eventually it would strip them bare, Sakito’s wry thoughts compared himself to their dilemma. So much time being buffeted along by the gale inside would do the same to him. Maybe then…maybe then….
The door opening cautiously behind him alerted Sakito he was about to have company. “There you are,” Niya’s low voice carried on the wind tunneling in the entryway. “Are we going to keep practicing or…?”
He sounded mildly confused and perhaps a tiny bit worried. Sakito moved his hand away from where he had been absently playing with his necklace and turned slightly. “Huh? Oh…I guess we’ll keep going shortly. I just…needed some air.”
“Are you okay? You sound a little funny.” Niya came out and closed the door behind him. Perhaps it was odd to be standing in the mostly empty parking lot for no apparent reason, Sakito considered. The bassist certainly looked concerned about it.
“No, it’s nothing. I’m probably getting sick from working too hard lately.”
Niya nodded sagely and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “There’s been a bug going around the office.”
No, that wasn’t it at all. They stood in vacant silence for several minutes, a steady trickle of tiny, shriveled leaves falling on them from the closest tree. Sakito tried to pretend he had the courage continuously eluding him, “Niya…”
“Hm?” Innocently expectant eyes gazed steadily over at him.
“Er…never mind.” Turning, Sakito was ready to walk back inside and play until his fingers hurt too much to think about anything but.
But Niya’s request stopped him cold, hopeful. “Wait…hold still…” Sakito stopped, feeling his throat constrict in apprehension. Slowly, carefully, Niya reached out, gaze seemingly steady on his face. Fingers brushed past his cheek, past his hair, retracting altogether too soon. When Sakito opened his eyes again, having not realized they were closed, he saw Niya shrug casually and hold up something crinkled and brown.
“Sorry, you had a leaf in your hair.”