moar drabbles
Imaginary Girl, this is a song for you
Meichan no Shitsuju, Rika/Aoyama, G.
Losing Rika’s pendant necklace was stupid of him, Aoyama thinks. What makes him an even bigger idiot than Mameshiba, however, is the fact that he actually told her so after coming back to her room drenched in the early April rain.
“What happened?” She asks while fetching a towel from her bathroom. Rika watches him through heavy bangs while her butler says nothing, too busy sulking in his own failures. Her hands somehow wind up in his hair, drying wet locks with the towel. “I order you to tell me,” she adds lightly, although the command is somewhat unnecessary.
“Your most important necklace,” Aoyama replies slowly, grabbing Rika’s delicate and perfect hands as he looks up pitifully at her. “I can’t find it anymore. Please punish me, Rika-sama.”
The girl says nothing for a few minutes as she carefully walks towards the casement decked with silk curtains. She had spent hours picking out the right fabric after moving back into the luna dorms, and now Rika stands with her back facing Aoyama. “I can’t believe you,” she speaks up after awhile.
“I’m sorry.” He bits his lip, bowing deeply. The water dripping off his bangs hit the floor with a soft splash.
“I can’t believe,” Rika says at last, turning around. “That at this point, you still think that necklace is more important.” She takes a seat on the Italian sofa and looks at him expectedly. “Come over here.”
Aoyama obeys because he still finds her as beautiful as the day they met in the garden. He had watched with wide eyes as his future mistress collected herbs diligently for her dinner menu. Rika’s temper has mellowed since then, but occasionally she still frets over things like a lost hairband. This is precisely why Aoyama is somewhat confused when Rika pulls at his tie, causing him to stumble an inch or so towards her face.
“Aoyama,” she says suddenly, tilting her head sideways as neatly arranged bangs slide across her forehead.
“Yes, Rika-sama?”
“My shoe,” she says, slowly kicking one of the designer flats off her left foot. It falls two feet away from the sofa. “It slipped off. Get it more me, mm?”
“Of course,” Aoyama picks up the shoes and kneels down, perhaps lingering a little too long as his fingers brush against her delicate ankles while he slides the shoes back on her foot.
“You will always serve me, right?” Rika asks with some amusement in her voice.
“You’re the only lady for me,” he repeats by instinct, looking up.
“Good.” Rika smiles, leaning on one elbow. “Because I order you to kiss me.” The playfulness in her voice is also masked by something else, something Aoyama hasn’t heard before.
He obeys.
I'll Follow the Sun
Meichan no Shitsuju, Izumi/Kiba, G.
Izumi goes to the beach to scout the location for their spring trip, and by the time she has the area mapped out Kiba has already helped 4 old ladies cross the street, cooed a kitten off a tree for a sobbing little girl, and somehow managed to change a poor taxi-driver’s blown tires.
“Really,” she says as Kiba bounces back to her. “This is a very appropriate destination. I think the headmistress will find no objections to my plan. What do you think?”
Kiba is busy opening a parasol to cover Izumi from the August sun. “Whatever Izumi-sama decides will be the best, I’m sure,” he beams, hesitating to brush some fly-away petals from her hair. “Izumi-sama looks really good in white!”
She blinks, eyeing him with an unreadable expression. “You too,” she says, touching his white shirt.
“That’s because Izumi-sama picked it out for me!” Kiba chirps.
Izumi smiles. They spend the rest of the day near the tea shop. Kiba chases a beach ball while Izumi digs her feet into the warm sand, the sun setting slowly in the background. “There’s no need for that,” she tells him when they head for the last train back to Tokyo.
“But this makes Izumi-sama look like a princess,” Kiba insists, grasping tighter on the handle of the open parasol.
“A princess, uh?” Izumi pauses, hands linked behind her perfectly ironed sundress, “I’d rather be myself.”
“Princess or not, Lucia-sama or not.” Kiba grins. “I like Izumi-sama the best!” His eyes shine like that of a little boy, and Izumi can’t help but marvel at the happiness emitting from it.
She tiptoes, designer sandals making a small sound on the pavement as Izumi kisses Kiba on the cheeks, under the matching white parasol.
Cured with a Haircut
HSJ, on the subject of Takaki's poodle hair
Takaki’s hair stylist goes on vacation for two weeks and comes back to find a desperate idol sitting in her salon. “Takaki-kun,” she beams, “what a nice surp-oh.”
“I told him to get it trimmed,” Yabu says from his seat in the waiting area, busy engrossed in the latest issue of Myojo. “But he wouldn’t listen to me.”
“I wanted to wait for you!” Takaki insists lamely, grabbing the girl by her hands. “I wanted it to be you.” He gives the other stylists a passing look. “I don’t trust anyone else.”
“He thinks they want to sell his hair on yahoo Japan.” Yabu explains. “Yuyan has delusions about being popular.”
“You know I’m only here to pick up a few things, right?” The girl smiles sympathetically. “My shift doesn’t start again until next week.”
“Let’s talk,” Inoo says instead, leading the stylist into a corner of the salon. The lady sitting at the nearest station gives them a look, but Inoo ignores this and sets a wad of cash in the girl’s hand instead. “The band chipped in. We want you to chop that poodle out of his hair. And while you’re at it,” he whispers, “can’t you do something about... That?”
“That?”
Inoo nods uncomfortably towards Hikaru. Hikaru is busy trying to stick POCKY down a sleeping Daiki’s shirt.
“Um,” she pauses. “I don’t think we can that cure that with a haircut.”
“I’m not talking about his idiocy,” Inoo replies, all-suffering. “The hair- I mean, you can do something about it, can’t you? Give him some hair gel that will turn it black or something.” He gives her a look, eyes dark flashing under heavy bangs as his hand brushes hers.
The girl flushes red and immediately cancels her plans for the afternoon. Takaki goes home with normal hair- normal, by Johnny’s standards, at least- while Hikaru gushes about the free samples he got “for being so handsome.”
“I saw that trick you used on her,” Daiki says, fully awake although not aware of the pen marks on his face. “Where did you learn that?”
“Please,” Inoo scoffs, as if disappointed by Daiki’s lack of confidence. “How do you think I convinced the mangaka of CIAOS to draw a whole chapter about my dogs?”
Misunderstood
Sanazawa, on the topic of Kishi and Nokkun's duet, G.
“I think he was eyeing you inappropriately,” Sanada says in all seriousness.
Nozawa blinks but doesn’t stop from dancing. “Who?”
“Kishi,” Sanada mumbles. “He has the hots for you, I can tell. Watch out for him. Today he’s stealing my part in our duet, tomorrow he’s ending up in your bed.”
“Stop it,” Nozawa slaps him lightly on the arm. “You’re the one who has to go to that super important doctors’ appointment that can’t be canceled. He’s just filling in for the meantime.” He messes up the last two steps and gives up for the time being.
Sanada rolls his eyes. “Why can’t, oh, I don’t know, any of our bandmates fill in? I just don’t like that kid.”
“You liked him perfectly fine when he lent you his extra dancing shoes.” Nozawa points out. “And when he gave you money for bus fare, and that one time-”
“What is this?” Sanada looks at him suspiciously. “Do you have a crush on him? Why are you defending him? Has he seduced you already?” He rolls up his nonexistent sleeves. “I’m gonna teach Kishi a lesson!” He storms out of the room before Nozawa can stop him.
“What’s he going to do?” Miyadate wants to know.
“Make a fool of himself,” Nozawa sighs.
“So, that appointment of his,” Iwamoto begins. “Ten bucks says it’s a prostate exam.”
A/N: fljds I love Rika/Aoyama and Izumi/Kiba. They make me ship het. the cuteness, it overwelms. I think they should date IRL.. all four of them 8D
Meichan no Shitsuju, Rika/Aoyama, G.
Losing Rika’s pendant necklace was stupid of him, Aoyama thinks. What makes him an even bigger idiot than Mameshiba, however, is the fact that he actually told her so after coming back to her room drenched in the early April rain.
“What happened?” She asks while fetching a towel from her bathroom. Rika watches him through heavy bangs while her butler says nothing, too busy sulking in his own failures. Her hands somehow wind up in his hair, drying wet locks with the towel. “I order you to tell me,” she adds lightly, although the command is somewhat unnecessary.
“Your most important necklace,” Aoyama replies slowly, grabbing Rika’s delicate and perfect hands as he looks up pitifully at her. “I can’t find it anymore. Please punish me, Rika-sama.”
The girl says nothing for a few minutes as she carefully walks towards the casement decked with silk curtains. She had spent hours picking out the right fabric after moving back into the luna dorms, and now Rika stands with her back facing Aoyama. “I can’t believe you,” she speaks up after awhile.
“I’m sorry.” He bits his lip, bowing deeply. The water dripping off his bangs hit the floor with a soft splash.
“I can’t believe,” Rika says at last, turning around. “That at this point, you still think that necklace is more important.” She takes a seat on the Italian sofa and looks at him expectedly. “Come over here.”
Aoyama obeys because he still finds her as beautiful as the day they met in the garden. He had watched with wide eyes as his future mistress collected herbs diligently for her dinner menu. Rika’s temper has mellowed since then, but occasionally she still frets over things like a lost hairband. This is precisely why Aoyama is somewhat confused when Rika pulls at his tie, causing him to stumble an inch or so towards her face.
“Aoyama,” she says suddenly, tilting her head sideways as neatly arranged bangs slide across her forehead.
“Yes, Rika-sama?”
“My shoe,” she says, slowly kicking one of the designer flats off her left foot. It falls two feet away from the sofa. “It slipped off. Get it more me, mm?”
“Of course,” Aoyama picks up the shoes and kneels down, perhaps lingering a little too long as his fingers brush against her delicate ankles while he slides the shoes back on her foot.
“You will always serve me, right?” Rika asks with some amusement in her voice.
“You’re the only lady for me,” he repeats by instinct, looking up.
“Good.” Rika smiles, leaning on one elbow. “Because I order you to kiss me.” The playfulness in her voice is also masked by something else, something Aoyama hasn’t heard before.
He obeys.
I'll Follow the Sun
Meichan no Shitsuju, Izumi/Kiba, G.
Izumi goes to the beach to scout the location for their spring trip, and by the time she has the area mapped out Kiba has already helped 4 old ladies cross the street, cooed a kitten off a tree for a sobbing little girl, and somehow managed to change a poor taxi-driver’s blown tires.
“Really,” she says as Kiba bounces back to her. “This is a very appropriate destination. I think the headmistress will find no objections to my plan. What do you think?”
Kiba is busy opening a parasol to cover Izumi from the August sun. “Whatever Izumi-sama decides will be the best, I’m sure,” he beams, hesitating to brush some fly-away petals from her hair. “Izumi-sama looks really good in white!”
She blinks, eyeing him with an unreadable expression. “You too,” she says, touching his white shirt.
“That’s because Izumi-sama picked it out for me!” Kiba chirps.
Izumi smiles. They spend the rest of the day near the tea shop. Kiba chases a beach ball while Izumi digs her feet into the warm sand, the sun setting slowly in the background. “There’s no need for that,” she tells him when they head for the last train back to Tokyo.
“But this makes Izumi-sama look like a princess,” Kiba insists, grasping tighter on the handle of the open parasol.
“A princess, uh?” Izumi pauses, hands linked behind her perfectly ironed sundress, “I’d rather be myself.”
“Princess or not, Lucia-sama or not.” Kiba grins. “I like Izumi-sama the best!” His eyes shine like that of a little boy, and Izumi can’t help but marvel at the happiness emitting from it.
She tiptoes, designer sandals making a small sound on the pavement as Izumi kisses Kiba on the cheeks, under the matching white parasol.
Cured with a Haircut
HSJ, on the subject of Takaki's poodle hair
Takaki’s hair stylist goes on vacation for two weeks and comes back to find a desperate idol sitting in her salon. “Takaki-kun,” she beams, “what a nice surp-oh.”
“I told him to get it trimmed,” Yabu says from his seat in the waiting area, busy engrossed in the latest issue of Myojo. “But he wouldn’t listen to me.”
“I wanted to wait for you!” Takaki insists lamely, grabbing the girl by her hands. “I wanted it to be you.” He gives the other stylists a passing look. “I don’t trust anyone else.”
“He thinks they want to sell his hair on yahoo Japan.” Yabu explains. “Yuyan has delusions about being popular.”
“You know I’m only here to pick up a few things, right?” The girl smiles sympathetically. “My shift doesn’t start again until next week.”
“Let’s talk,” Inoo says instead, leading the stylist into a corner of the salon. The lady sitting at the nearest station gives them a look, but Inoo ignores this and sets a wad of cash in the girl’s hand instead. “The band chipped in. We want you to chop that poodle out of his hair. And while you’re at it,” he whispers, “can’t you do something about... That?”
“That?”
Inoo nods uncomfortably towards Hikaru. Hikaru is busy trying to stick POCKY down a sleeping Daiki’s shirt.
“Um,” she pauses. “I don’t think we can that cure that with a haircut.”
“I’m not talking about his idiocy,” Inoo replies, all-suffering. “The hair- I mean, you can do something about it, can’t you? Give him some hair gel that will turn it black or something.” He gives her a look, eyes dark flashing under heavy bangs as his hand brushes hers.
The girl flushes red and immediately cancels her plans for the afternoon. Takaki goes home with normal hair- normal, by Johnny’s standards, at least- while Hikaru gushes about the free samples he got “for being so handsome.”
“I saw that trick you used on her,” Daiki says, fully awake although not aware of the pen marks on his face. “Where did you learn that?”
“Please,” Inoo scoffs, as if disappointed by Daiki’s lack of confidence. “How do you think I convinced the mangaka of CIAOS to draw a whole chapter about my dogs?”
Misunderstood
Sanazawa, on the topic of Kishi and Nokkun's duet, G.
“I think he was eyeing you inappropriately,” Sanada says in all seriousness.
Nozawa blinks but doesn’t stop from dancing. “Who?”
“Kishi,” Sanada mumbles. “He has the hots for you, I can tell. Watch out for him. Today he’s stealing my part in our duet, tomorrow he’s ending up in your bed.”
“Stop it,” Nozawa slaps him lightly on the arm. “You’re the one who has to go to that super important doctors’ appointment that can’t be canceled. He’s just filling in for the meantime.” He messes up the last two steps and gives up for the time being.
Sanada rolls his eyes. “Why can’t, oh, I don’t know, any of our bandmates fill in? I just don’t like that kid.”
“You liked him perfectly fine when he lent you his extra dancing shoes.” Nozawa points out. “And when he gave you money for bus fare, and that one time-”
“What is this?” Sanada looks at him suspiciously. “Do you have a crush on him? Why are you defending him? Has he seduced you already?” He rolls up his nonexistent sleeves. “I’m gonna teach Kishi a lesson!” He storms out of the room before Nozawa can stop him.
“What’s he going to do?” Miyadate wants to know.
“Make a fool of himself,” Nozawa sighs.
“So, that appointment of his,” Iwamoto begins. “Ten bucks says it’s a prostate exam.”
A/N: fljds I love Rika/Aoyama and Izumi/Kiba. They make me ship het. the cuteness, it overwelms. I think they should date IRL.. all four of them 8D
