Prince of Tennis: untitled Taka/Fuji ficlet
It was a lovely Autumn day, the sky blue and bright, the wind just strong enough to land a leaf in Fuji's hair. Taka plucked the leaf out of Fuji's hair then moved the hair behind Fuji's ear. Fuji's skin was warm and soft under Taka's hand as it moved to rest on Fuji's cheek.
"Fujiko-chan," he breathed and leant in to kiss him.
Just a brief, firm press of lips to lips and then he moved back.
"Taka-san," Fuji said in a roughened voice, then cleared his throat. He looked at his hand on Taka's shoulder as if just realising it was there.
"Your skin is so soft," Taka whispered, rubbing his thumb down over the curve of Fuji's cheekbone.
They moved in to kiss again, longer this time, until the kiss left Taka dizzy and gasping for air.
Noir: Mad Hat, Chloe gen, mood piece, spoilers for everything
There can be no tea parties anymore. The girl of the moment is impaled upon her own fork, soft in the center like cake, the blood in the wound oozing out like strawberry jam. There can be no more dancing teaspoons through nimble fingers, nor the pleasant warmth of milk.
There will no longer be the smell of Altena's hands to welcome her home, baby powder and ink, nor their strength against her back. No more the vaguely metalic taste of tea from a tin.
She had wanted to bring Kirika home with her trial of bread crumbs. That night in the moonlight, against the clink of tea cups, she had looked into Kirika's eyes and was sure she would return to where she belonged, that the other woman was too old and joyless to keep her forever. And Kirika had come home, lay beside her, quiet and still. Said nothing as Kirika drew her close. More nothing as Kirika kissed her in the water, trying to bind her, mouth to mouth.
It hurts now. Kirika is moving and vibrant for that other, and now Chloe is the odd one out, dying in the midday sun as the others dance like fire.
No tea parties anymore, no...