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writetomyheart2025-02-26 10:14 pm
alchemicink) wrote in writetomyheart2025-02-26 10:14 pm
Entry tags:
[Team four] distractions
Wow, another Ultraman Arc fic. Who could have guessed! This is part of a longer AU I'm gonna work on this year.
Eventual Yuma/Shu, around 600ish words, g-rated
Yuma's left thigh hurts. He reaches down and kneads the sore muscle with the heel of his palm, hoping it'll help enough to ease the pain before it's his turn to run again.
It's just a pulled muscle -- not his old ankle injury flaring up again, thankfully -- but he should have been paying more attention during his warmups earlier, and then he would have realized he hadn't stretched this muscle enough. Yuma had been too distracted while shooting glances over at the officials on the sideline, trying to catch sight of the assistant timekeeper. The guy with glasses he sees around campus sometimes, but hasn't had a chance to speak to yet.
Yuma sighs and stretches his leg again. He's only got a few minutes before the next race, and the assistant timekeeper is engrossed in his work right now. He's leaning over the table, jotting down notes and nodding while the chief timekeeper speaks. He seems very dedicated to his work, and Yuma admires the determination.
Maybe Yuma will get lucky and catch him after the track meet is over.
He lines up at his mark on the track, nodding politely to the other runners beside him. The ache in his leg isn't bad enough that he should sit this one out. It's his last and shortest race of the day anyway, so he can push through long enough for one more.
He glances over at Coach Ban on the sidelines, who gives him an encouraging thumbs up, even though he's noticed Yuma's pain and looks a little concerned. Yuma nods his head in return, saying that he's okay, and then he gazes out at the spectators in the bleachers, catching sight of Rin and Aoi. Rin waves enthusiastically and yells something at him. She's too far away from him to hear, but he can guess by her hands that it's the usual "you can do it, Yuma!"
The officials signal to the runners to get ready, and Yuma turns his focus back to the track in front of him. He breathes slowly and deeply -- in and out, in and out -- as he prepares to run. For a moment, everything else just melts away.
This is always his favorite part. The anticipation right before he takes off, like teetering at the top of the first hill of a rollercoaster.
The pop of the starting pistol goes off, and Yuma runs.
He pushes forward, paying no attention to the other runners on the track, paying no attention to the ache in his thigh. All his focus is on reaching the finish line. One foot in front of the other, over and over and over again, until it carries him all the way to the end.
Relief washes over him as he runs over the line, and he slows up before hunching over, hands on knees, to catch his breath. Another runner pats his shoulder encouragingly as he passes by.
Yuma is afraid to look up and check his time. It definitely wasn't his best run of the day.
Once he feels like his lungs aren't on fire anymore, Yuma looks up at the results.
Fourth.
He sighs and shakes his head. He'll have to talk to Coach Ban later on strategies for improvement. He's got to get faster if he wants to make it to the national competition later this year.
Yuma turns towards the officials again, scanning for the assistant timekeeper. He's getting up from the table, apparently leaving the last of the official business to the more experienced professionals.
Now's Yuma's chance before he slips away again. He dashes over to the sideline to grab his gym bag.
"Sorry Coach, give me a minute," he blurts out just as Ban starts speaking. "I'll be back!"
His leg still hurts as he weaves through the crowd, but again, he ignores it.
"Hey!" he calls out, just in time to catch the guy with the glasses before he gets too far away.
The guy turns to look over his shoulder, confused. "Yes?"
"Are you Ishido Shu?"
"...yes?" he repeats, looking even more confused.
Yuma hastily unzips his gym bag and roots around for what he's looking for, until his fingers finally brush against the book.
"You left this in the library the other day," Yuma explains, pulling out a textbook and flipping open the cover to show the name scribbled on the inside. "I've been trying to return it to you, but you're hard to track down."
Eventual Yuma/Shu, around 600ish words, g-rated
Yuma's left thigh hurts. He reaches down and kneads the sore muscle with the heel of his palm, hoping it'll help enough to ease the pain before it's his turn to run again.
It's just a pulled muscle -- not his old ankle injury flaring up again, thankfully -- but he should have been paying more attention during his warmups earlier, and then he would have realized he hadn't stretched this muscle enough. Yuma had been too distracted while shooting glances over at the officials on the sideline, trying to catch sight of the assistant timekeeper. The guy with glasses he sees around campus sometimes, but hasn't had a chance to speak to yet.
Yuma sighs and stretches his leg again. He's only got a few minutes before the next race, and the assistant timekeeper is engrossed in his work right now. He's leaning over the table, jotting down notes and nodding while the chief timekeeper speaks. He seems very dedicated to his work, and Yuma admires the determination.
Maybe Yuma will get lucky and catch him after the track meet is over.
He lines up at his mark on the track, nodding politely to the other runners beside him. The ache in his leg isn't bad enough that he should sit this one out. It's his last and shortest race of the day anyway, so he can push through long enough for one more.
He glances over at Coach Ban on the sidelines, who gives him an encouraging thumbs up, even though he's noticed Yuma's pain and looks a little concerned. Yuma nods his head in return, saying that he's okay, and then he gazes out at the spectators in the bleachers, catching sight of Rin and Aoi. Rin waves enthusiastically and yells something at him. She's too far away from him to hear, but he can guess by her hands that it's the usual "you can do it, Yuma!"
The officials signal to the runners to get ready, and Yuma turns his focus back to the track in front of him. He breathes slowly and deeply -- in and out, in and out -- as he prepares to run. For a moment, everything else just melts away.
This is always his favorite part. The anticipation right before he takes off, like teetering at the top of the first hill of a rollercoaster.
The pop of the starting pistol goes off, and Yuma runs.
He pushes forward, paying no attention to the other runners on the track, paying no attention to the ache in his thigh. All his focus is on reaching the finish line. One foot in front of the other, over and over and over again, until it carries him all the way to the end.
Relief washes over him as he runs over the line, and he slows up before hunching over, hands on knees, to catch his breath. Another runner pats his shoulder encouragingly as he passes by.
Yuma is afraid to look up and check his time. It definitely wasn't his best run of the day.
Once he feels like his lungs aren't on fire anymore, Yuma looks up at the results.
Fourth.
He sighs and shakes his head. He'll have to talk to Coach Ban later on strategies for improvement. He's got to get faster if he wants to make it to the national competition later this year.
Yuma turns towards the officials again, scanning for the assistant timekeeper. He's getting up from the table, apparently leaving the last of the official business to the more experienced professionals.
Now's Yuma's chance before he slips away again. He dashes over to the sideline to grab his gym bag.
"Sorry Coach, give me a minute," he blurts out just as Ban starts speaking. "I'll be back!"
His leg still hurts as he weaves through the crowd, but again, he ignores it.
"Hey!" he calls out, just in time to catch the guy with the glasses before he gets too far away.
The guy turns to look over his shoulder, confused. "Yes?"
"Are you Ishido Shu?"
"...yes?" he repeats, looking even more confused.
Yuma hastily unzips his gym bag and roots around for what he's looking for, until his fingers finally brush against the book.
"You left this in the library the other day," Yuma explains, pulling out a textbook and flipping open the cover to show the name scribbled on the inside. "I've been trying to return it to you, but you're hard to track down."
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no subject
Glad you enjoyed it!