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Author Topic: Catch & Release: Hard Definitions (WMatsui/NatsuMado drabbles)  (Read 24305 times)

Offline Zita

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Re: PEOPLE of the LIE (Prologue)
« Reply #20 on: June 16, 2014, 06:57:13 PM »
 :sashiko: :mon thumb:

Offline gekikarabuACE

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[ONESHOT] Pastime (WMATSUI) (26/04/2016)
« Reply #21 on: April 26, 2016, 12:12:41 PM »
A/N: Because for some reason, I can't really concentrate on working on my on-going without finishing this first. This has been sitting on my computer, half-finished, for a while now. I have a few more of these half-finished one-shots lying around, though it remains to be seen if/when they'll ever get to see the light of day.  :D


She wouldn’t go so far as to call it a habit.

There isn’t any real reason for her to creep on random people like some crazed stalker.

It’s only but natural – when you’re perpetually stuck behind the counter of a quaint little café down the corner of some small side street, you’re bound to come up with the oddest ways and methods of passing the time.

At least, that’s how Jurina likes to reason it out.

And so on Monday mornings, it’s all about watching that balding, middle-aged guy struggle with his steaming cup of Irish coffee as he scurries towards his office building. (Usually, he can only take five strides away from her doorstep before he lightly spills his drink. These days, however, he can already go as far as ten – a new record for him.)

During Wednesdays, she spends the lazy afternoon serving cups of Macchiato and guessing which of those college kids would be the first to put their books down and break out the juiciest gossip instead. (As of the current tally, it’s the woman with the fake collagen lips who’s in the lead, with a total fifteen gasp-inducing ‘scandals’ under her belt, if Jurina has heard everything correctly.)   

Thursdays are a bit more peaceful, with only two regular customers – a couple, by the looks of it – coming in to occupy the most obscured table inside her little café. They always come in fifteen minutes after each other, and Jurina does nothing but serve them cakes and Espresso Romanos and then leave them be. (Jurina thinks there’s something more fishy going on, what with the furtive looks and nervous glances those two are always casting in her direction, like she’s some paparazzi. She swears the faces hiding behind those scarves and hoodies are vaguely familiar.)
Fridays are completely different, because that’s when the neighborhood prodigy comes in and plays the old piano for her. (Jurina doesn’t forget to brew a pot of green tea when Ikuchan comes because being the health freak that woman is, Ikuchan refuses to drink anything that’s unhealthy. Even if it’s for free. )

Tuesdays, Saturdays and Sundays are the slowest days of the week, and it’s during these long days when Jurina spends most of her time tirelessly debating with herself whether it’s really possible for someone to die of boredom (once in a while, Ikuchan drops by and butts in and makes it a two-person conversation).

"It’s just not possible, Jurina-san.”

“But what if you’re so bored that you forget to eat or drink for days, or even weeks?”

“Then you’d die of starvation and dehydration.”

“Caused by

Today isn’t any different, Jurina muses to herself, as she restlessly raps her fingers on the wooden counter for the umpteenth time. Her gaze travels to the old cuckoo clock hanging on the wall across. It’s only three o’clock in the afternoon, the bird obnoxiously informs her, a few hours since that snooty high school kid stepped out with her latte.

For a moment she considers closing the café early this time around and take the opportunity to head upstairs to her apartment and just kick back and relax (not that she hasn’t been practically doing just that since early that morning).

But then the door suddenly jingles open and Jurina is forced to put aside that tempting idea for the moment. She looks up to greet her newly-arrived customer with a wide smile.

Dark brown hair. Thin, pink lips. Perfect set of pearly white teeth.

And a fairly conspicuous patch of what looked like bird droppings slithering down one shoulder.

Jurina cringes inwardly at the sight (of the dirt, not the pretty woman).

Fumbling slightly, she pulls out a fresh piece of washcloth from under the counter and swiftly wets it under running water, before handing it to the unfortunate stranger who had entered her humble shop in haste. “Uh, here, why don’t you use this to wipe… that thing off your shirt?”

The spastic dance and the muttered curses stop as soon as Jurina opened her mouth.

A pair of piercing caramel eyes.

“Thanks.” The woman tugs the proffered cloth from her grasp and breaks the eye contact with a startled blink. Jurina watches in quiet amusement as her visitor lightly swipes away the dirt, careful not to make any more mess than there already is.

“Your café is empty,” the woman oh so casually observes, visibly torn between tossing the soiled towel in the trash bin and handing it back to its owner until Jurina motions for it. 

“So I’ve noticed.” Her eyes sparkle with mirth. She swiftly chucks the dirty cloth to the nearest bin and shrugs. “It’s a dead hour this time of the day.” 

“Ah,” the stranger all but whispers, and Jurina wonders to herself if she’s creeping her out with her grin (Ikuchan had mentioned it a few times before), given the way the woman’s eyes keep on flitting between her, the empty café, and the scorching sun outside.

“Is there anything else I can help you with?” Jurina graciously inquires before the silence gets any more awkward.

“Um, sure.”

The answer comes as a pleasant surprise.

“Can I have a cup of Americano, please?”

She cheerfully shoots up from her seat towards the sink and makes a grand motion of soaping her hands under the running tap. Lest she gets shut down for atrocious hygiene standards, of course. She did just handle bird poop a while ago.

“For here or to go?”

The stranger blinks at her once more.

“I’ll have it here.”

The pitcher and utensils melodiously clink and clatter against each other as she gets right down to work. “One steaming cup of Americano, coming right up.”

It looks like those boring days are about to change.


And that’s when it starts, that little game in which Jurina guesses (more like wishes, but she won’t admit that little fact) whether the pretty stranger would come in for the day. When she does, Jurina takes note of the woman’s habits and jots them down in her head.

Like, how she always orders the simplest drink on the menu. Or how she always takes the corner table, the one where she can have a full view of the café (not that it’s hard; the place is small). Or even how her pretty little nose is always buried under that huge book of hers.

On good days, her friend Churi comes in to help at the café, so Jurina takes advantage and studies the woman a bit more.

Two weeks and counting, and Jurina is fairly confident that she has familiarized herself with the woman. At least enough to start a conversation that doesn’t involve her asking for the woman’s order (even though that itself is a moot question because she already knows).

An Introduction to Modern Astrophysics,” Jurina reads out loud as she sets the customary hot drink down on the small table. “That looks intimidating, judging from the thickness alone. Must be a hard book to read, isn’t it?”

Those warm, caramel eyes widen for a second. “Uh, no. Not really.”

“Oh. Then, you’re intimidating.” Jurina mentally slaps herself for her foot-in-mouth moment (because what kind of woman would want to be told they’re intimidating?). She hastily recovers with a good-natured laugh and a scratch on her head. “Well, good luck on your book report, or exam, or whatever that book is for.”

“A little bit out of your league, isn’t she?” is what Churi whispers to her as soon as she gets back behind the counter. That earns her friend a good smack on the head.

“Shut up.”


“I didn’t order a cake, though.”

The pretty woman looks at the generous slice of strawberry cake on her table and then up at her, head tilting slightly in confusion. It takes most of Jurina’s self-control not to gush at the cuteness of it all (professional, she is professional).

“It’s on the house.” Jurina just grins that chesire-cat-grin of hers. “Think of it as a ‘thank you’, for being my best customer. You’ve been putting food on my table by regularly visiting my café for the past month.”

“Then, thank you as well.” The woman offers her a quick bow before burying her face behind her book once more, but Jurina thinks she also sees a tinge of crimson slash the woman’s cheeks before she takes her leave. 

“It’s Rena…”

She turns around.

“My name is Rena.”

The pretty woman – Rena – says once again.  If possible, Jurina’s grin widens just a bit more.

“Nice to meet you, Rena. I’m Jurina.”


Of course, there are those days when Jurina doesn’t always appreciate the idea of having Rena in her café.

Take for example, today.

“Sick people belong in warm, fluffy beds, you know. Not inside cold, deserted cafés.” She calls out from behind the counter, throwing aside rug she’s been using to absently clean otherwise spotless counter. 

Jurina walks over and takes a closer look, eyebrows knotting lightly at the other woman. Red nosed and watery eyed, Rena’s suspicious appearance leaves Jurina wondering how the woman even managed to drag herself in there. 

“I’m actually about to close for today,” she adds, much to the chagrin of her visitor.


“Yeah, I don’t think anyone’s coming in, anyway. Especially with that kind of storm raging on.” She peeks outside the window, then instinctively takes a step back when the dark skies flashes dangerously for a split-second.

“I’m sorry, then I should just – eh? What are you doing?”

Rena questions her when she walks over to the door and starts locking. She flips over the ‘close’ sign then draws down the curtains for good measure.

“Like I said, sick people belong in bed.” Jurina gently wraps her hand around Rena’s (warm) dainty wrists and gives a gentle tug, afraid that if she isn’t careful, the frail-looking woman would actually crumble at her touch. “Come on, let’s go.”

She leads her to a door at the back of the room, silently thankful that Rena didn’t have the half a mind to decline. (That or that she is just too sick; either way it’s not like Jurina is a shady person, if she may say so herself.)

Jurina tugs the door and reveals a set of stairs leading to her small (yet cozy) apartment.

“Go on, take the bed.” She guides her over and tucks her in herself when she sees the hesitation in those caramel eyes. “No coffee for you today, Rena-chan. I’ll make some soup for you to eat instead.”

There’s faint blush on the woman’s cheeks, but Jurina isn’t sure if that’s just because of the girl’s temperature.

“Rest for a while, okay? I’ll be back.”

(She spends the rest of the night nursing the other woman back to health. Not that she really minds. Though she wishes she could just escape the subsequent teasing from Churi, instead.) 


“Hi! You must be the Jurina I’ve heard all about.”

Jurina plasters a smile, eyes indiscreetly (or so she hopes) traveling to their linked arms, all the while thinking how badly she wants to slap Churi for that poorly disguised snort.

It’s not often that Jurina gets tongue-tied. On a scale of not once to never, she’s probably around the range of nope, never happened. But that’s only until today, when Rena walks in.

With somebody else.

“I’m Airi, Rena’s friend.”

“Yes, I guess that’s me,” Jurina hesitantly answers, blinking away at the blinding smile the woman is flashing her.

“Thanks for taking care of her when she was sick. Rena may look meek as a lamb, but she can be stubborn as a mule sometimes.”

Rena surprisingly keeps quiet and shuffles embarrassedly beside her friend, and Jurina can’t help but smile genuinely at the adorable woman (despite the fact that they’re still linking their arms).

“No, it’s okay. I really didn’t mind.”

“As a sign of gratitude, how about we treat you to a movie tonight. If you’re free, of course.” Airi briefly glances at someone behind Jurina then grins at her (somehow it looks suspicious, but she lets it go this time). “You can take your friend with you, if you want.”

She doesn’t even need time to consider her offer because her friend Churi readily supplies the answer.

“We’re free!”

And that’s the reason why Jurina found herself standing in front of the movie house, hours later, waiting in line to get in and watch a horror film she doesn’t even remember choosing.

The night goes by in a blink of an eye (probably because she had her eyes closed, clutching Rena’s arm and whimpering like a kid the entire time). Before she knows it, they’re standing in front of Rena’s modest apartment, ready to say goodbye.

“Thanks for the movie. I’m sorry I used your arm as a shield.” Jurina sheepishly offers as she kicks the non-existent dirt on the pavement. Their so-called friends have left them hours ago after offering ridiculous excuses; so ridiculous that Jurina swears there must be a catch somewhere.

“It’s okay. Actually, I’m more sorry about Airi. I don’t know why she’s so insistent on watching that horror movie.” Rena frowns (in that cute way that makes Jurina wants to pinch her cheeks). “Though your friend Churi was pretty adamant as well.”

“Yeah, she can be insufferable at times.”

Her quiet laugh tickles Jurina ears all the same.

“Well, I guess this is it. Good night, Jurina.”

Jurina watch the woman disappear inside the building, feeling more than a little dumbstruck and inexplicably winded at the soft, pink lips that grazed her cheeks mere seconds ago.

(Well, again on that same scale of not once to never, this goes along the range of there’s always a second time.)


Churi calls it ‘love’ and leaves it at that.

Ikuchan calls it a ‘chemical reaction’, then launches into an elaborate explanation of endorphins and neurosignals that Jurina doesn’t bother to listen, much less understand.

That balding, middle-aged guy calls it nothing short of a miracle, but that’s just because he’s more than relieved now that Jurina has something to worry about other than watch him spill coffee on himself on Monday mornings (surprisingly, he knows about that).

In any case, Jurina doesn’t try to think much about that indescribable feeling at the pit of her stomach whenever she sees Rena. (Except that she does, going as far as asking whether there’s an actual medical condition that can make her feel like having a cross between stomach butterflies and a constant bout of indigestion.)

For today Jurina just settles with watching Rena tinkle around the old piano (that Ikuchan often plays), on this peaceful Tuesday afternoon. Perched on the barstool, she rests her chin on the counter and smiles to herself. The realization doesn’t come to her until much after, but the more she watches her, the heavier that feeling in her stomach feels.

“Ne, Jurina. Do you know how to play?”

She snaps into attention. Rena waves her over, and like a faithful little puppy, Jurina comes with her (invisible) tail wagging.

“Eh, just a little.” She settles beside the woman and randomly presses a few keys.

“Play for me?” Rena blinks and tilts her head, something that Jurina swears should be illegal because how does one refuse a request when confronted with a face like that? (Like Rena could tell her to jump and she’d ask how high.)

And so Jurina does.

She doesn’t have Ikuchan’s graceful fingers, nor her pitch perfect voice, but still she tries. She tries in earnest, even though her fingers are clumsy and her voice cracks a few times, singing about being simply out of league of this perfect woman she managed to find. Rena has grown quiet by the time she finishes the song.

Jurina figures she must have done something right, though, judging by the way Rena deeply stares at her with those big, twinkling eyes in a way that she can’t really explain (it takes a of lot control not to get lost in them). 

And if that isn’t convincing enough, the warm, soft lips that softly presses on her own should.


“Hey, Rena-chan. Not that I’m really complaining, but you don’t seem to have your books around these days.” Jurina observes one quiet Saturday night.

There’s this nagging thought that’s been bothering her for a while, like an itch she’s been trying to scratch, every time her gaze falls on the woman. Today hasn’t been any different, the thought pestering her all afternoon, until she finally pinpoints what exactly it is that’s been missing.

“Aren’t you being a little lax with your studies?”

“Hmm?” Rena glances from the table she’s been clearing, and thinks for a moment before exclaiming, “Oh! That’s because I got my master’s degree a couple of weeks ago. I’m now working as a marketing consultant at some firm in the city.”

“You’re a marketing what? You’re working where? Wait, I thought – ” She almost drops the tray she’s holding to gawk at this highly unexpected revelation. “Whatever happened to that book report you were doing? That modern astrophysics and stuff? You were always lugging that big book around a couples of months ago.”

“Ah, that.” The other woman scratches her head then turns back to what she’s been doing. “Well, you see, it was, uh, it was more of a pastime, really.”

“A pastime?!” Jurina’s voice goes a few notches higher. She doesn’t even bother to hide the incredulous look on her face. All those times, sitting in the corner, back against the wall, with full view of the place, Rena looked like some paranoid government agent watching – oh.


“Um, yeah.” Rena hastily gathers the rest of the empty cups and plates into her tray and dumps them into the sink. She keeps her head bowed but there’s no hiding the full blush that adorns her face. “Because I like… watching stars.”


“They fascinate me.”

“I see.”

“Eh? Why are you closing the shop early? It’s barely past seven o’clock,” the other woman calls out when Jurina walks over to the door and starts locking up.

“Well, you’ve got a rather boring pastime there.” Jurina hums while she thoughtfully rubs her chin. “How about I teach you a more productive one instead?”

“Yeah? What is it?”

She shoots her a predatory grin.

“I’ll show you… upstairs.”


Guys, get your minds out of the gutter.  :lol:
« Last Edit: April 26, 2016, 02:53:25 PM by gekikarabuACE »

Offline screechingsoul

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Re: [ONESHOT] Pastime (WMATSUI) (26/04/2016)
« Reply #22 on: April 26, 2016, 12:55:06 PM »
 :on GJ: perfect!

~My other fics can be found here~

Offline Minami-chan

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Re: [ONESHOT] Pastime (WMATSUI) (26/04/2016)
« Reply #23 on: April 26, 2016, 11:45:52 PM »
“Well, you’ve got a rather boring pastime there.” Jurina hums while she thoughtfully rubs her chin. “How about I teach you a more productive one instead?”

“Yeah? What is it?”

She shoots her a predatory grin.

“I’ll show you… upstairs.”

 :inlove: :inlove:

Offline Janix123

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Re: [ONESHOT] Pastime (WMATSUI) (26/04/2016)
« Reply #24 on: April 27, 2016, 03:43:28 PM »



Hehehe. I'm a person who can't help but love AKB48 Group. I'm a silent reader please treat me well. I'm the kind of person who gets crazy over my favorite pairings

 :wigglypanda: :onioncheer: :onioncheer: :onionwhip: :onionwhip: :cool1: :cool1: :onionwhip: :onionwhip: :onioncheer: :onioncheer:  :wigglypanda:

Offline LuckyMatsui

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Re: [ONESHOT] Pastime (WMATSUI) (26/04/2016)
« Reply #25 on: April 27, 2016, 03:59:44 PM »
I see what you did there Author-san. :hiakhiakhiak: :hiakhiakhiak:  :kekeke:
Matsui Rena + Matsui Jurina =

Offline junchan48

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Re: [ONESHOT] Pastime (WMATSUI) (26/04/2016)
« Reply #26 on: April 28, 2016, 04:15:49 AM »
Can you show me that 'productive' thing, author-san? :v
This fic is...great! Really!

Gonna wait your next work~ Or maybe the 'productive' part :v
Newbie. Yoroshiku Oneigashimasu ^^

Offline gekikarabuACE

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I don't know what I'm doing, resurrecting these old ficlets/drabbles of mine, when I should be working on my on-going instead. Oh well. :nervous

Btw, I'm also going to use this thread to dump ficlets/OS/drabbles from now on. I think I have two more OS that I'm tweaking to fit my ships, lol.



“I told you, Maachan, it wasn’t my fault.” She stared right into the eyes of the fuming girl, head deliberately shaking left and right as if to prove her point.

“Oh? So it’s not your fault when you tripped and conveniently landed on Sakura’s boobs during today’s dance practice, is it?”

She nodded vigorously.

“Uh-huh. And you were just lucky that Sakura and her babies were there to break your fall, weren’t you?”

“Yes! I mean, no, I wasn’t aiming for Sakura’s – ”

“I’d choose my words carefully, if I were you.” Madoka looked like she was ready to pop a vein in anger.

“I tripped, and it was accident. But really, it wasn’t my fault,” Natsu insisted with as much conviction as she could muster.

“Then who, pray tell, was that big idiot who gave you the opportunity to freely cop Sakura’s twins?” Madoka cocked a dangerous eyebrow. Natsu resisted the urge to flee the scene altogether. “Enlighten me, Ms. ‘I-am-not-a-pervert’, or you’ll be the one who’s going to get skinned alive.”

“Well, since you insist on asking…” Just above Madoka’s shoulder, Natsu could see the rest of her members scampering from the cool beauty’s impending wrath as far away as possible. She scratched her head helplessly. “It was actually you who stepped on my foot first, so –”


Commotio Cordis

Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub.

Steady. Mechanical. Perfunctory.

She has always been trapped in a life of endless routine. From the moment she wakes up until the second she closes her eyes to sleep, she would go through the motions of her life like it was nothing but a customary ‘to-do’ list, ticking out the things she needed to accomplish.

With a sigh, she dragged herself out of bed and made a beeline for the bathroom, took a shower, got dressed and left for school.

(Day in and day out, it was always the same.)

Lub-dub. Lub-dub.

Dull. Monotonous.

Always the same faces; always the same places: the ailing old lady sweeping along her street; the bumbling office guy struggling to get through the thick crowd down in the subway; the long-time couple running alongside each other through her favourite hiking trail. Deny as much as these people want, everyone was all the same.

A creature of habit, very much just like herself.

Shaking her head, she continued on her usual path and went about her day.

(Once in a while, she also wondered if anyone else out there was getting tired of being stuck in the same old boring routine. Maybe some of them; maybe none at all.)



But then she really should have known better.

Fate had never been one to play fair. If having an errant fowl drop a big a surprise on her shoulder was fate’s way of ‘spicing up’ her life, then she has certainly lucked out today (of all days).

She blindly rushed under the nearest roof she could find, arms flailing wildly all around as she tried to shake away the dirt in disgust. This wasn’t exactly what she had in mind when she wished for something to break the monotony of her life.

“Here, why don’t you use this to wipe that thing off your shirt?”

Startled, she looked up and unexpectedly met the warmest pair of brown eyes she has ever seen….

Rena’s heart skipped a beat.



That was how it felt like when Natsu began tracing her soft fingers up and down, playing with her silky smooth skin.

Delicate and fleeting.

Like hundreds of little winged creatures sending waves upon waves of excitement to every inch of her body.


Natsu’s gentle touches were just like butterflies, searching for those hidden places she was most sensitive to.

“You’re beautiful.”

Her breath hitched; the desire was almost blinding. All forms of coherent thought slowly dissolved from her mind, and all she could think about right at that moment was the electrifying sensation of Natsu’s warm fingers threatening to overwhelm her entire being.

“Do you know that?”

As if her senses hadn’t already been stripped down to its thinnest thread, the mind-numbing touches gradually stopped, only to be replaced by a feeling of warm, moist lips planting butterfly kisses on her bare abdomen.

“So beautiful,” Natsu murmured ever so softly in between kisses before she started to painstakingly make her way up.

Madoka’s fluttering vision exploded into a thousand sparkling butterflies.

DNR (Do Not Resuscitate)

“I’m really sorry. I know I made a mistake.”

Her pleas fall on deaf ears as clothing after clothing resolutely drops on the open suitcase by the floor.

“Could you please just let me explain?” She begs some more, but the person remains so stolid and unwavering that she has to wonder whether everything that’s happening right now is real, and not just mere vestiges of sleep. “Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this.”

The suitcase closes with finality and it pulls her from her dream (How she just wishes that it was, because she’d rather not face a reality which looks more like a nightmare of her own making.).

Come on, talk to me, damn it! Hit me. Scream at me. Curse me all you like. I’ll take it. I’ll take everything you throw at me.”

Still, she gets no answer, and soon enough, her desperation and frustration melt into nothing but desolate words.

“Don’t just… walk away mad.”

“I’m so tired, Jurina.” Rena stares at the stubborn hand holding her back. She gazes deep into her rueful eyes, gives her hand a light squeeze, before completely pulling herself away.

“Let’s not do this anymore.”

Jurina’s tearful eyes fall on the small, sparkling trinket Rena had pressed on her palm, fingers uselessly tracing its continuous frame.

There’s no such thing as forever.

“Please don’t walk away at all.”


“I think I’m too old for this stuff,” Natsu groaned painfully from the practice room floor, causing Madoka to look up from her book. “My body isn’t flexible enough to withstand all those kinds of impossible acrobatics with you.”

“Nonsense. You just need a little more practice, Naachan, that’s all.” With her free hand, Madoka grabbed a couple of their members’ bags from the floor and propped them under the other girl’s knees as pillows. She shook her head disapprovingly as the older girl tenderly kneaded her lower back. “Besides, if Haruppi and Sakura can do it every night without looking like crap the morning after, then we sure as hell can do it as well.”

“Back pains again, Naachan?”

Before Madoka could protest, Natsu snatched the wretched book from Madoka’s grasp and chucked it determinedly towards their young member who had discreetly emerged from the dressing room. “Meru-chan, please do me a favor and throw that book back to Haruppi’s face. Wait, better yet, just burn the whole thing and scatter the ashes into the sea.”

'Advanced Yoga Practices – Easy Lessons for Ecstatic Living',” Meru read out from the unassuming paperback that was flung at her. Her eyebrows furrowed together. “This looks like a good book, Naachan. It would be such a waste if I just throw it away like you asked.” She casted them a slightly pleading look. “Why don’t I just keep it with me? Maybe Chiizu and I could learn from it one of these days.”

“You can take it, Meru-chan,” Madoka urged casually with a dismissive wave. “I’ve memorized the whole book, anyway. Go ahead and try it with Chiizu. She’s alone in the other room right now.”

Nodding gleefully, Meru hurriedly bounded out of the practice room and towards the room at the end of the hallway, and as soon she disappeared from sight, Madoka turned to the older girl with an almost feline smile.

Natsu visibly gulped.

“Now, which one of those positions should we try out tonight?”


“Stop staring at all the bikini-clad girls, Jurina, or I swear you won’t ever get the chance to step another foot in this beach,” Rena growled from under her dark sunglasses. “And wipe that stupid grin off your face.”

“I’m not staring at anyone! And how can you even say that I’m smiling when I’m obviously not?”

“Uh-huh. Right. So you’re cheeks are turning crimson because…?”

“Because… I thought-uh, my cheeks were-um, falling asleep,” Jurina offered lamely. Her eyes cautiously sized up the image of a scantily-clad Rena staring crossly at her. The sight was astonishingly imposing, nonetheless. Her entire face went three shades paler (except for her cheeks which were now turning from deep red to frighteningly purple.).

If possible, she squeezed her cheeks even harder.

“Ah-I’m pinching it to-uh, stimulate blood circulation.”

A/N: These are all medical terms that I've used. That's because it's what I'm most familiar with. And if you've noticed, Commotio Cordis sounds a bit familiar. That's because it's kind of the primer for my other OS, Pastime. This was written before that, so yeah.

Comments/critiques would be most welcome! I'm also open to suggestions, if you have any. Though I might be more inclined to write mostly HKT members (plus WMatsui). 
« Last Edit: May 22, 2016, 02:09:07 PM by gekikarabuACE »

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