Blue's AU 5
May. 16th, 2020 07:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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log"Zenitsu?"
Yoshiteru is, frankly, more than a little weirded out by the freckled boy's usage of his ancestor's name. But he was already weirded out by the same boy, who's planted his foot on the railing of the bridge stretching across the harbor, so how much weirder can things get? Not much. He can't be blamed for staring like he's watching a clown at a circus.
If you want to end it quickly, don't make it a show! he scolds inwardly.
"Um," he starts, readjusting his grip on the strap of his schoolbag, "if you were rejected by the girl of your dreams or stepped on bird manure on the way to a date, you can talk about it, you know. You don't have to take such drastic measures, you know? And if you're standing a girl up to do this instead, I'll never forgive you for as long as I breathe."
He clears his throat and continues, "Honestly, watching you in that position while you say my great grandfather's name is also kind of creepy. Go talk to a professional and don't trouble anybody here. Bye!"
Whirling around on his heels—his crazy sister's going to have to wait for that little thing she wanted him to pick up on her behalf, because he's not about to walk past whatever this is—he takes three steps back the way he came when he hears a splash below him. The hairs on his nape raise as he whirls back around to stare at the empty space where the freckled jumper stood just seconds ago.
What the heck! After all that, you still jump? Idiot! Moron! Don't come haunting me tonight, or I'll be really angry!
White blurs flash before his eyes when two more boys jump into the water in pursuit. Yoshiteru watches, wide-eyed, with his mouth agape and a hand extended in belated protest.
What? What? What? This is a bridge, you know? Why are you all jumping off! The railing's there for our protection! This city is insane!
Sweating from temples to chin, he fishes his phone out of his pocket to call for medical personnel. He presses the phone against his ear with an expression of complete and utter consternation.
It's after the third ring that he sees them.
The most beautiful couple he's ever witnessed in his life walks past him, completely oblivious to his plight. Their calm, blissful energy is such a slap in the face that he wants to throw his phone at the boy to his right and scream unholy words at that pretty face. At most, he manages to lose control of his muscles; his phone clatters onto the floor by his foot.
What the heck? He's so envious that he wants to bite his thumb and cry. And this is very strange, indeed, because his first love was a girl and he undoubtedly loves all girls—but something about that boy strikes him as beyond beautiful. While the girl on the far side of the bridge is extraordinarily cute, there's something about the boy with jet black hair that Yoshiteru can't ignore.
The black-haired boy's sharp eyes meet his own. He's looking at me, thinks Yoshiteru. Oh, no!
In fact, the dashing duo has stopped to turn around and stare at him, most likely in return for the clownish way he's been gaping at them this whole time. Terror flows through every fiber of his being—this is bad! They're way beyond his leagues on looks alone!—when the black-haired boy frowns and the girl with soft features shoots him a curious look.
"Zen," she begins with an accent that's too cute for words, "itsu?"
Despite his panic, he replies in a monotonous tone that better resembles a robot, "You're wrong. I'm not Zenitsu. I'm Yoshiteru. Zenitsu is my great grandfather. He was blond. In case you're colorblind, I'm not. Why is everyone calling me by his name today? Stop calling me that. It's seriously creeping me out. I can't take this anymore."
Saying that, he promptly turns around to face the expanse of blue behind him, grips the railing, and swings his legs over to escape the bridge.
Yet no splash sounds. But a series of wails follow as Yoshiteru clings to the railing in tears, shrieking for help while the black-haired boy claps him on the head for being a moron.
Yoshiteru is, frankly, more than a little weirded out by the freckled boy's usage of his ancestor's name. But he was already weirded out by the same boy, who's planted his foot on the railing of the bridge stretching across the harbor, so how much weirder can things get? Not much. He can't be blamed for staring like he's watching a clown at a circus.
If you want to end it quickly, don't make it a show! he scolds inwardly.
"Um," he starts, readjusting his grip on the strap of his schoolbag, "if you were rejected by the girl of your dreams or stepped on bird manure on the way to a date, you can talk about it, you know. You don't have to take such drastic measures, you know? And if you're standing a girl up to do this instead, I'll never forgive you for as long as I breathe."
He clears his throat and continues, "Honestly, watching you in that position while you say my great grandfather's name is also kind of creepy. Go talk to a professional and don't trouble anybody here. Bye!"
Whirling around on his heels—his crazy sister's going to have to wait for that little thing she wanted him to pick up on her behalf, because he's not about to walk past whatever this is—he takes three steps back the way he came when he hears a splash below him. The hairs on his nape raise as he whirls back around to stare at the empty space where the freckled jumper stood just seconds ago.
What the heck! After all that, you still jump? Idiot! Moron! Don't come haunting me tonight, or I'll be really angry!
White blurs flash before his eyes when two more boys jump into the water in pursuit. Yoshiteru watches, wide-eyed, with his mouth agape and a hand extended in belated protest.
What? What? What? This is a bridge, you know? Why are you all jumping off! The railing's there for our protection! This city is insane!
Sweating from temples to chin, he fishes his phone out of his pocket to call for medical personnel. He presses the phone against his ear with an expression of complete and utter consternation.
It's after the third ring that he sees them.
The most beautiful couple he's ever witnessed in his life walks past him, completely oblivious to his plight. Their calm, blissful energy is such a slap in the face that he wants to throw his phone at the boy to his right and scream unholy words at that pretty face. At most, he manages to lose control of his muscles; his phone clatters onto the floor by his foot.
What the heck? He's so envious that he wants to bite his thumb and cry. And this is very strange, indeed, because his first love was a girl and he undoubtedly loves all girls—but something about that boy strikes him as beyond beautiful. While the girl on the far side of the bridge is extraordinarily cute, there's something about the boy with jet black hair that Yoshiteru can't ignore.
The black-haired boy's sharp eyes meet his own. He's looking at me, thinks Yoshiteru. Oh, no!
In fact, the dashing duo has stopped to turn around and stare at him, most likely in return for the clownish way he's been gaping at them this whole time. Terror flows through every fiber of his being—this is bad! They're way beyond his leagues on looks alone!—when the black-haired boy frowns and the girl with soft features shoots him a curious look.
"Zen," she begins with an accent that's too cute for words, "itsu?"
Despite his panic, he replies in a monotonous tone that better resembles a robot, "You're wrong. I'm not Zenitsu. I'm Yoshiteru. Zenitsu is my great grandfather. He was blond. In case you're colorblind, I'm not. Why is everyone calling me by his name today? Stop calling me that. It's seriously creeping me out. I can't take this anymore."
Saying that, he promptly turns around to face the expanse of blue behind him, grips the railing, and swings his legs over to escape the bridge.
Yet no splash sounds. But a series of wails follow as Yoshiteru clings to the railing in tears, shrieking for help while the black-haired boy claps him on the head for being a moron.