Title: End Of The World, Chapter 6
Author(s): Sententia
Artist(s): dragon_gypsy
Fandom(s): Switch
Type: (Gen, Het, Femmeslash or Slash) Gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 34,000.
Characters/Pairings: Takei and Shiba.
Warnings/Spoilers: For the entire series and the official '5 years later' doujinshi done by Naked Ape.
Summary: It was the end of the world as Takei knew it, and he was feeling ... wait, how did the rest of the song go again? Takei returns to work after Shingo's betrayal, only to be hit be a far greater one. Both Shiba and Takei struggle with the consequences.
Author’s Notes: This is the longest thing I've written, and it really shows. When I planned it out it was only supposed to be 10,000 words (which is still huge for me), but it blossomed into something much longer. It's been a great growing process, and if I were to redo the story again with everything I'd learnt, it would probably be a completely different fic.
Chapter 6: Cotton wool and Candy floss.
Takei rose through a sky choked with cotton wool. It seemed to Takei that this should be a pleasing experience. After all, cotton wool was the cotton candy of the medical world: soft and fluffy and often a little bit pink if used properly. Perhaps when applied as nature intended it, cotton wool maintained some of its candy-like qualities. As far as Takei was aware, cotton wool was not supposed to be substituted in as clouds - although he could certainly understand some of the logic. Clouds, cotton. They almost sounded alike if you were really, really drunk.
Takei felt really, really drunk. His head was heavy and threatened to roll off his neck and onto the floor, and he was somehow trapped underwater while flying through the cotton wool clouds. He tried to bash the cotton wool out of the way (it stuck like tar-tacky feathers to his skin), and he tried to breathe in anything else (cotton wool scratched and smothered as it clogged up your throat, bad cotton wool!).
His eyes smeared opened briefly, but the hot light burned, and he squished them shut again. Better the cotton wool and the way it tangled in his eyelids.
“Is he going to be alright?” The distant voice sounded concerned and familiar, and against all of Takei’s better judgement, he wanted to lick it. His brain was a little mushed, right now.
“He has a concussion.” Another familiar voice, but this one Takei did not want to lick. Oh, no. It made him want to surrender to the cotton wool in the most pathetic suicide attempt ever. This voice was nice and calm, but it also spoke of Consequences. “We considered taking him to hospital-“
“That’s not a good idea.” Thank you, voice Takei wanted to lick. The mere thought of spending any more time in hospital almost tempted Takei to risk the bright light again, but the voice had sorted that issue out in his stead. “He has this thing for hospitals.” Yeah, a thing called vengeance.
“I know.” Beware, the touch of reproach. “The doctor said that he shouldn’t be unconscious for too long.” There was a dangerous, thoughtful pause. “In fact...”
Caught, but this time in spider webs instead of cotton wool. With a groan, Takei tried to shake off the wool once more as he forced his eyes open into slits, finding the light shielded away by a familiar silhouette.
“Shiba?” he mouthed hoarsely, and the ghosts darted away from Shiba’s eyes. Takei wasn’t entirely sure what they were doing there in the first place, not when they normally lived in Takei’s closet at home.
His eyes widened suddenly, and he snapped up into a sitting position. He shoved aside the blinding pain that spiked through the base of his head, horror flooding his senses.
“Is Maki ok?” The panic built in Takei’s gut and spilled outwards. His gaze jumped wildly from person to person, desperately seeking out his new partner. His eyes never lingered long enough on anyone to determine who the faces actually belonged to, darting quickly on.
“Maki is fine, Takei.” Hiki’s smooth voice dragged Takei’s attention back to the two men at his bedside.
Takei felt woozy, a heady cocktail of relief and dizziness crashing over him. He swayed hazardously, and then Shiba was there propping him up, one arm wrapped around his shoulders. Blurry eyes slid over to him, and Takei had to bite back a smirk once his friend finally came into focus.
“Nice shirt,” he said, eying up Shiba’s work uniform. The black tee was fine on its own, but someone had made the decision to plaster the shirt with bright, clashing advertisements. Still, Takei felt he had done a pretty damn good job getting Shiba a position with the company at all, especially since no-one in their right mind wanted to hire his useless friend. It was a good thing that Takei knew so many people with the wrong kind of mind.
Oof. He closed his eyes, and the room stopped spinning. Or, Takei stopped spinning. He wasn’t too sure which was which was what.
“Who rang you?” Takei forced out through clenched teeth at Shiba, his eyes still closed, Shiba’s shoulder ridiculously warm. He had only just realised how unnatural this situation was, he was too used to Shiba being the first person at his side whenever he got injured. But Shiba no longer belonged in this world, and Takei was pretty sure that the mere presence of both Hiki and Shiba in the same room signified the coming of the apocalypse.
“I did,” Miyoshi’s voice rose nervously from the doorway. “I hope that was ok?”
Really. Takei would have had to have been a much stronger man to not give in to those doe eyes. Hell, Takei thought he might have opened his own just to give Miyoshi an out. At least the room wasn’t bobbing around so much now, although the pain was still there, like a rock pounding at the base of his skull. He risked another glance at Shiba and Hiki. Both still there, and neither in ashes form.
“Uh-“ He didn’t really know what to say. The shame came to him then, burning hot before flashing ice cold, and he could no longer hold either of their gazes. He felt a fool, useless and transparent.
Maki was fine, at least. Takei didn’t think he could forgive himself if his own stupid insecurities had led to someone else getting hurt. It wasn’t that he thought Maki was bad at his job; it was just that it was safer sometimes to do things on your own than to worry about what the person behind your back was planning.
“I think it would be best if you took him home, Shiba,” Hiki said dryly, startling them all from the uncomfortable silence. There was something deceptively casual about the way Hiki spoke. “It would probably be best if someone babysits him for a couple of days.” Surreally, Hiki turned to Shiba. “Do you mind?” Yeah. Casual. Like a shark vacationing in the Bahamas, Hiki might be wearing a funky shirt but he was still on the hunt.
In Takei’s world, holidaying sharks wore funky shirts. It was a beautiful world.
Yeah. Definitely a concussion.
At least Takei wasn’t the only one who found the interplay between the two deeply disturbing. Miyoshi shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot, his gaze flickering between them. And, Shiba, Shiba hovered as close as possible to Takei’s bed. It was the sort of closeness that was unnecessary and felt it, but if Shiba moved even an inch away then it was an inch into someone else’s space.
“Of course!” Shiba spluttered, so uncool in that moment that Takei had to bite down a very inappropriate chuckle. “That won’t be a problem!” The unspoken ‘sir’ resonated through the room, and ... awkward.
“I’ll have Keigo drop you both back at Takei’s apartment. Why don’t you go ask him to get a car ready?”
Takei blanched, and Shiba hesitated. It was an order delivered on a smile, and for a moment Takei thought that Shiba might decline. Takei didn’t give him that option, elbowing him in the ribs and setting him on his way. Even then Shiba looked as though he would refuse to leave, and it was only Hiki’s knowing pat on his shoulder that finally convinced him to go. Miyoshi skittered after him, whispering something heatedly to Shiba as they left.
“You’ve forgiven him a lot quicker than I was expecting,” Takei murmured, his gaze lingering on the now empty doorway.
“It has been six months, Takei,” Hiki responded. Six months? Huh. Somehow, Takei had lost track of time. The shark smile returned. “And I don’t recall saying anything about forgiveness. I don’t believe it is my place.”
Takei snorted at that, but he had to do everything he could to keep from flinching in embarrassment when Hiki sat beside him on the bed. This was getting ridiculous. Takei had partnered with other people dozens of times before, and he’d never stumbled so badly. There had been something in him that had frozen into a cold, rock hard panic, and Takei had shoved aside all those tiny, little important things like trust and respect to try and appease it. The look Hiki gave him wasn’t totally devoid of compassion, but it was professional and cool.
“It is important for you to be able to trust your partners.” Hiki let out a sigh when Takei nodded automatically in agreement. Yeah. “But trust is something that needs to be earned. Sometimes, that can be hard.” Takei blinked over at his boss, a small smile flickering briefly across his mouth. Hiki was very, very good at this. It was probably more than Takei deserved. “It’s only been six months. Keep me in the loop.”
Takei received the same shoulder pat as Shiba, and he wondered if it had the same effect on his friend. It was like ... it was like the weight hadn’t been dispersed so much as it had been shared.
“Next time something happens, I’d rather nobody contacted Shiba. He has more important things to worry about.” Takei’s smile deepened. “Like working his way up into a department that doesn’t have such an atrocious dress code.”
Shiba burst back into the room before Hiki had a chance to answer, partially out of breath and his eyes darting with nervous adrenalin.
“Car’s ready!”
Escape, initiated! If only Shiba had worn a cape.
“Oh, god. We are never doing that again,” Shiba declared as he slid behind Keigo and opened the opposite car door from the inside.
Takei crawled in cautiously across the back seat and slumped down across Shiba’s lap with a groan.
Too tired to wear seatbelt. Too achy to sit up. Head heavy and cotton wooly. Nice, comfy lap to rest in.
Still, Takei had the energy for just one more thing.
“That must have been awkward for you,” he mocked lightly, smirking down into the material of Shiba’s 1000 yen work pants.
Shiba shot the back of Keigo’s head a dry look before returning his gaze to Takei.
“Still awkward,” Shiba reminded him pointedly. Heh. Good. Shiba twirled his fingers down in Takei’s bangs, and damn it. Takei didn’t have the energy to push him away. What was it with Shiba’s obsession with his hair, anyway? Always ruffling, teasing, messing it up-
He curled in against Shiba’s knees, and allowed it. For now.
“We’re going to talk about this when you wake up,” Shiba promised.
They don’t. Takei made sure of it.
Author(s): Sententia
Artist(s): dragon_gypsy
Fandom(s): Switch
Type: (Gen, Het, Femmeslash or Slash) Gen
Rating: PG
Word Count: 34,000.
Characters/Pairings: Takei and Shiba.
Warnings/Spoilers: For the entire series and the official '5 years later' doujinshi done by Naked Ape.
Summary: It was the end of the world as Takei knew it, and he was feeling ... wait, how did the rest of the song go again? Takei returns to work after Shingo's betrayal, only to be hit be a far greater one. Both Shiba and Takei struggle with the consequences.
Author’s Notes: This is the longest thing I've written, and it really shows. When I planned it out it was only supposed to be 10,000 words (which is still huge for me), but it blossomed into something much longer. It's been a great growing process, and if I were to redo the story again with everything I'd learnt, it would probably be a completely different fic.
Takei rose through a sky choked with cotton wool. It seemed to Takei that this should be a pleasing experience. After all, cotton wool was the cotton candy of the medical world: soft and fluffy and often a little bit pink if used properly. Perhaps when applied as nature intended it, cotton wool maintained some of its candy-like qualities. As far as Takei was aware, cotton wool was not supposed to be substituted in as clouds - although he could certainly understand some of the logic. Clouds, cotton. They almost sounded alike if you were really, really drunk.
Takei felt really, really drunk. His head was heavy and threatened to roll off his neck and onto the floor, and he was somehow trapped underwater while flying through the cotton wool clouds. He tried to bash the cotton wool out of the way (it stuck like tar-tacky feathers to his skin), and he tried to breathe in anything else (cotton wool scratched and smothered as it clogged up your throat, bad cotton wool!).
His eyes smeared opened briefly, but the hot light burned, and he squished them shut again. Better the cotton wool and the way it tangled in his eyelids.
“Is he going to be alright?” The distant voice sounded concerned and familiar, and against all of Takei’s better judgement, he wanted to lick it. His brain was a little mushed, right now.
“He has a concussion.” Another familiar voice, but this one Takei did not want to lick. Oh, no. It made him want to surrender to the cotton wool in the most pathetic suicide attempt ever. This voice was nice and calm, but it also spoke of Consequences. “We considered taking him to hospital-“
“That’s not a good idea.” Thank you, voice Takei wanted to lick. The mere thought of spending any more time in hospital almost tempted Takei to risk the bright light again, but the voice had sorted that issue out in his stead. “He has this thing for hospitals.” Yeah, a thing called vengeance.
“I know.” Beware, the touch of reproach. “The doctor said that he shouldn’t be unconscious for too long.” There was a dangerous, thoughtful pause. “In fact...”
Caught, but this time in spider webs instead of cotton wool. With a groan, Takei tried to shake off the wool once more as he forced his eyes open into slits, finding the light shielded away by a familiar silhouette.
“Shiba?” he mouthed hoarsely, and the ghosts darted away from Shiba’s eyes. Takei wasn’t entirely sure what they were doing there in the first place, not when they normally lived in Takei’s closet at home.
His eyes widened suddenly, and he snapped up into a sitting position. He shoved aside the blinding pain that spiked through the base of his head, horror flooding his senses.
“Is Maki ok?” The panic built in Takei’s gut and spilled outwards. His gaze jumped wildly from person to person, desperately seeking out his new partner. His eyes never lingered long enough on anyone to determine who the faces actually belonged to, darting quickly on.
“Maki is fine, Takei.” Hiki’s smooth voice dragged Takei’s attention back to the two men at his bedside.
Takei felt woozy, a heady cocktail of relief and dizziness crashing over him. He swayed hazardously, and then Shiba was there propping him up, one arm wrapped around his shoulders. Blurry eyes slid over to him, and Takei had to bite back a smirk once his friend finally came into focus.
“Nice shirt,” he said, eying up Shiba’s work uniform. The black tee was fine on its own, but someone had made the decision to plaster the shirt with bright, clashing advertisements. Still, Takei felt he had done a pretty damn good job getting Shiba a position with the company at all, especially since no-one in their right mind wanted to hire his useless friend. It was a good thing that Takei knew so many people with the wrong kind of mind.
Oof. He closed his eyes, and the room stopped spinning. Or, Takei stopped spinning. He wasn’t too sure which was which was what.
“Who rang you?” Takei forced out through clenched teeth at Shiba, his eyes still closed, Shiba’s shoulder ridiculously warm. He had only just realised how unnatural this situation was, he was too used to Shiba being the first person at his side whenever he got injured. But Shiba no longer belonged in this world, and Takei was pretty sure that the mere presence of both Hiki and Shiba in the same room signified the coming of the apocalypse.
“I did,” Miyoshi’s voice rose nervously from the doorway. “I hope that was ok?”
Really. Takei would have had to have been a much stronger man to not give in to those doe eyes. Hell, Takei thought he might have opened his own just to give Miyoshi an out. At least the room wasn’t bobbing around so much now, although the pain was still there, like a rock pounding at the base of his skull. He risked another glance at Shiba and Hiki. Both still there, and neither in ashes form.
“Uh-“ He didn’t really know what to say. The shame came to him then, burning hot before flashing ice cold, and he could no longer hold either of their gazes. He felt a fool, useless and transparent.
Maki was fine, at least. Takei didn’t think he could forgive himself if his own stupid insecurities had led to someone else getting hurt. It wasn’t that he thought Maki was bad at his job; it was just that it was safer sometimes to do things on your own than to worry about what the person behind your back was planning.
“I think it would be best if you took him home, Shiba,” Hiki said dryly, startling them all from the uncomfortable silence. There was something deceptively casual about the way Hiki spoke. “It would probably be best if someone babysits him for a couple of days.” Surreally, Hiki turned to Shiba. “Do you mind?” Yeah. Casual. Like a shark vacationing in the Bahamas, Hiki might be wearing a funky shirt but he was still on the hunt.
In Takei’s world, holidaying sharks wore funky shirts. It was a beautiful world.
Yeah. Definitely a concussion.
At least Takei wasn’t the only one who found the interplay between the two deeply disturbing. Miyoshi shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot, his gaze flickering between them. And, Shiba, Shiba hovered as close as possible to Takei’s bed. It was the sort of closeness that was unnecessary and felt it, but if Shiba moved even an inch away then it was an inch into someone else’s space.
“Of course!” Shiba spluttered, so uncool in that moment that Takei had to bite down a very inappropriate chuckle. “That won’t be a problem!” The unspoken ‘sir’ resonated through the room, and ... awkward.
“I’ll have Keigo drop you both back at Takei’s apartment. Why don’t you go ask him to get a car ready?”
Takei blanched, and Shiba hesitated. It was an order delivered on a smile, and for a moment Takei thought that Shiba might decline. Takei didn’t give him that option, elbowing him in the ribs and setting him on his way. Even then Shiba looked as though he would refuse to leave, and it was only Hiki’s knowing pat on his shoulder that finally convinced him to go. Miyoshi skittered after him, whispering something heatedly to Shiba as they left.
“You’ve forgiven him a lot quicker than I was expecting,” Takei murmured, his gaze lingering on the now empty doorway.
“It has been six months, Takei,” Hiki responded. Six months? Huh. Somehow, Takei had lost track of time. The shark smile returned. “And I don’t recall saying anything about forgiveness. I don’t believe it is my place.”
Takei snorted at that, but he had to do everything he could to keep from flinching in embarrassment when Hiki sat beside him on the bed. This was getting ridiculous. Takei had partnered with other people dozens of times before, and he’d never stumbled so badly. There had been something in him that had frozen into a cold, rock hard panic, and Takei had shoved aside all those tiny, little important things like trust and respect to try and appease it. The look Hiki gave him wasn’t totally devoid of compassion, but it was professional and cool.
“It is important for you to be able to trust your partners.” Hiki let out a sigh when Takei nodded automatically in agreement. Yeah. “But trust is something that needs to be earned. Sometimes, that can be hard.” Takei blinked over at his boss, a small smile flickering briefly across his mouth. Hiki was very, very good at this. It was probably more than Takei deserved. “It’s only been six months. Keep me in the loop.”
Takei received the same shoulder pat as Shiba, and he wondered if it had the same effect on his friend. It was like ... it was like the weight hadn’t been dispersed so much as it had been shared.
“Next time something happens, I’d rather nobody contacted Shiba. He has more important things to worry about.” Takei’s smile deepened. “Like working his way up into a department that doesn’t have such an atrocious dress code.”
Shiba burst back into the room before Hiki had a chance to answer, partially out of breath and his eyes darting with nervous adrenalin.
“Car’s ready!”
Escape, initiated! If only Shiba had worn a cape.
“Oh, god. We are never doing that again,” Shiba declared as he slid behind Keigo and opened the opposite car door from the inside.
Takei crawled in cautiously across the back seat and slumped down across Shiba’s lap with a groan.
Too tired to wear seatbelt. Too achy to sit up. Head heavy and cotton wooly. Nice, comfy lap to rest in.
Still, Takei had the energy for just one more thing.
“That must have been awkward for you,” he mocked lightly, smirking down into the material of Shiba’s 1000 yen work pants.
Shiba shot the back of Keigo’s head a dry look before returning his gaze to Takei.
“Still awkward,” Shiba reminded him pointedly. Heh. Good. Shiba twirled his fingers down in Takei’s bangs, and damn it. Takei didn’t have the energy to push him away. What was it with Shiba’s obsession with his hair, anyway? Always ruffling, teasing, messing it up-
He curled in against Shiba’s knees, and allowed it. For now.
“We’re going to talk about this when you wake up,” Shiba promised.
They don’t. Takei made sure of it.