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writetomyheart2012-08-07 02:54 am
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Waiting on a Miracle
This is a... space-military-sci-fi AU thingy? 8D Or at least let me pretend it is.
Anyway. Yokoo, Fujigaya,Iida
“Miracles… Do you believe in them?”
Yokoo doesn’t look up as he checks over his blaster for damage, meticulous as always. When he’s finally satisfied, he glances over at Fujigaya. “Hmm, you were saying?”
“Miracles, Wataru, miracles,” Fujigaya says with a small smile, and Yokoo guesses that he’s probably thinking of how their team has just narrowly escaped death on the battlefield yet again, just little over an hour ago. “Do you believe in miracles?”
Yokoo actually laughs at the question, a soft laugh with just the barest traces of amusement. He doesn’t answer immediately, getting up to carefully place his weapon back in its dock. He stands there for a moment, facing the weapons rack, gazing thoughtfully at the neat row of custom-issue blaster rifles. Each rifle, he knows, is engraved with the service number of its owner on its sleek black body.
These particular blaster rifles are special, unique to each officer who carries it. It’s a new, top-secret technology, designing weapons specific to each soldier’s brain wavelengths, adjusted to their individual strengths (and weaknesses) and skill. Yokoo walks over to the very last blaster on the rack, and lifts a finger to slowly trace across the engraved series of letters and numbers along its sturdy stock. Compared to the rest of the rifles on the shelf, this one looks brand new, as though it has hardly ever been carried into battle.
“Do you think he’s still alive?” Yokoo asks quietly.
Fujigaya doesn’t argue the change of topic. “I honestly don’t know, Watta. It’s been almost five years ever since they took him.”
Yokoo picks up the blaster. Iida’s custom rifle feels horribly strange and foreign in his hands, its weight too heavy and unfriendly. It’s so different from carrying his own blaster; unlike this one, his personal weapon feels like a light, natural extension of his own arm. But still he’s been painstakingly cleaning and maintaining it every day, keeping it in top serviceable condition. He doesn’t even know why he does it, all that he knows is that it would be best to keep Iida’s weapon ready for him when he finally does return.
“But I want to believe,” Fujigaya goes on, steely and determined, “that he’s still out there, somewhere. I believe in him. I believe in miracles, Wataru.”
“You sap,” Yokoo says teasingly, but there’s little humor in his voice. He gently replaces Iida’s blaster in its holder, as though it’s something particularly dear to him. “Kyohei always had this knack for surprising all of us, do you remember when he somehow got Senga and Tama out of the mess back on Krez-Ganna all by himself?”
Fujigaya chuckles. “And then Kitamitsu told Miyata and Nika to get themselves into trouble so he could go rescue them too and prove that he was as capable of one-man rescue missions. We were such idiots back then. How have we even managed to survive up till now, I wonder.”
“Miracles, I suppose,” Yokoo considers.
“When this war is finally over,” Fujigaya suddenly grins, “Let’s go on a long, long vacation, all of us. There’s this planet my brother told me about, near the middle of the galaxy. Awesome weather and warm, beautiful beaches and waters so clear you can almost see right to the bottom.”
noella84 ...I hope that last word wasn't too odd (or questionable), lol x___x
Anyway. Yokoo, Fujigaya,
“Miracles… Do you believe in them?”
Yokoo doesn’t look up as he checks over his blaster for damage, meticulous as always. When he’s finally satisfied, he glances over at Fujigaya. “Hmm, you were saying?”
“Miracles, Wataru, miracles,” Fujigaya says with a small smile, and Yokoo guesses that he’s probably thinking of how their team has just narrowly escaped death on the battlefield yet again, just little over an hour ago. “Do you believe in miracles?”
Yokoo actually laughs at the question, a soft laugh with just the barest traces of amusement. He doesn’t answer immediately, getting up to carefully place his weapon back in its dock. He stands there for a moment, facing the weapons rack, gazing thoughtfully at the neat row of custom-issue blaster rifles. Each rifle, he knows, is engraved with the service number of its owner on its sleek black body.
These particular blaster rifles are special, unique to each officer who carries it. It’s a new, top-secret technology, designing weapons specific to each soldier’s brain wavelengths, adjusted to their individual strengths (and weaknesses) and skill. Yokoo walks over to the very last blaster on the rack, and lifts a finger to slowly trace across the engraved series of letters and numbers along its sturdy stock. Compared to the rest of the rifles on the shelf, this one looks brand new, as though it has hardly ever been carried into battle.
“Do you think he’s still alive?” Yokoo asks quietly.
Fujigaya doesn’t argue the change of topic. “I honestly don’t know, Watta. It’s been almost five years ever since they took him.”
Yokoo picks up the blaster. Iida’s custom rifle feels horribly strange and foreign in his hands, its weight too heavy and unfriendly. It’s so different from carrying his own blaster; unlike this one, his personal weapon feels like a light, natural extension of his own arm. But still he’s been painstakingly cleaning and maintaining it every day, keeping it in top serviceable condition. He doesn’t even know why he does it, all that he knows is that it would be best to keep Iida’s weapon ready for him when he finally does return.
“But I want to believe,” Fujigaya goes on, steely and determined, “that he’s still out there, somewhere. I believe in him. I believe in miracles, Wataru.”
“You sap,” Yokoo says teasingly, but there’s little humor in his voice. He gently replaces Iida’s blaster in its holder, as though it’s something particularly dear to him. “Kyohei always had this knack for surprising all of us, do you remember when he somehow got Senga and Tama out of the mess back on Krez-Ganna all by himself?”
Fujigaya chuckles. “And then Kitamitsu told Miyata and Nika to get themselves into trouble so he could go rescue them too and prove that he was as capable of one-man rescue missions. We were such idiots back then. How have we even managed to survive up till now, I wonder.”
“Miracles, I suppose,” Yokoo considers.
“When this war is finally over,” Fujigaya suddenly grins, “Let’s go on a long, long vacation, all of us. There’s this planet my brother told me about, near the middle of the galaxy. Awesome weather and warm, beautiful beaches and waters so clear you can almost see right to the bottom.”
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Yokoo maintaining the blaster and both of them hoping that he's still alive...wah~
And lol, Fujigaya's suggestion at the end XD
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Fujigaya's suggestion was totally random, because I had no idea how to end it and it was the only thing I could think of x___x
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i totally want Taipi/Watta beach vacation *kind of off-topic*
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Someone should write yokofuji beach porn 8Dno subject
I think it's questionable just because you wrote it :|
I want more military AU. And the trip to Fujigaya's planet please 8D
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WHAT, WHY ME 8| It was purely unintentional, I swear :/
And well... You probably already know much I love military AUs ;p
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