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the-7th-heart · 7 months

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Ah yes, the Inatober

I was very scared for some reason about posting any of my participations...

But I decided I don't care anymore and I want to share my ideas with more than 1 person-

So this is day 1.

Don't know if this will be comfortable to read but for now I'm not sure how else I can put it out here...

1 - tropical fruit(s) / in your arms

“Aaaand, we’re back!” Tsunami threw his surfboard-free hand up and shouted as the two walked back into the small wooden cabin.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Joe said, putting his surfboard on the wall next to the door. “But this time I think I might’ve actually enjoyed it.”

Tsunami turned around at a dangerous speed while possessing a big block of wood and smiled.

Joe once again thought back to the nights he’d stay up and think about how he’d come to love this smile as much as he did. The nights when he questioned, if he even loved it, if he wasn’t just faking it all not to make the poor fool feel bad, if he was even worthy of all that he got. But then he’d turn around and Tsunami would be there, sleeping, drooling, and looking like a total mess that a regular person would just laugh at and Joe’s heart would melt.

Even now, after a year (or was it 2?) of meeting each other, Joseph King was looking at a person he could call his own standing in front of him in his swimming attire, his hair still somewhat wet, and the King of Goalies was melting on the inside and hell, maybe a little on the outside too.

“Great to know we finally found a beach you don’t hate!”

“I think the fact that this one didn’t have sand saved it.” Joe sighed and looked around the cabin, looking at the mess they’d made in the week they’d been staying there.

When Tsunami suggested that the two go on a “little getaway” Joe was extremely suspicious of where they’ll be staying. He knew he’d be forced to go to the Okinawa islands because of course, Tsunami is practically a one-trick pony, but he didn’t really know where exactly he’d be sleeping for the planned time. One thing he did not really expect was a chack or rather a shed-looking thing right next to a beach. At first, he did a 180 and started going right back to the airport, but after Tsunami explained the nature of the shack and the history it had in its walls, he gave in.

Now, every time he looked around, he couldn’t help but imagine a tiny, hungry boy running around with some ducktape trying to repair the sink in the kitchen, just hoping for his parents to come back, without the knowledge that he’d be on his own from then on.

“Well, all is good and stuff,” Tsunami said walking into the kitchen. “But personally I’m very hungry. You?”

“I could use some food.” Joe followed after him and leaned on one of the few mismatched counters. Tsunami opened the fridge and looked a little dissatisfied. His face immediately lit up when he noticed the bag Joe forced him to get last evening during shopping time. He took it out and put it out. Joe was looking at him in silence, admiring the way his muscles flexed around his arms as he lifted the heavy paper pack.

After closing the fridge Tsunami reached into a cupboard and took out a cutting boards and a sharp knives, set them on the last free counters, and turned triumphantly to Joe.

“And?” Joseph King crossed his arms and raised his eyebrow, trying to still keep up his intimidating image. Why? Because the author struggles with characterization, that’s why.

“Fruits.” Tsunami said in a proud tone of a true winner.

“Just?”

“Grilled.”

“Es todo?”

Tsunami stumbled, his voice sounding less confident.

“I mean,” he said, softening his stance. “We don’t need to grill all of them if you wouldn’t like that…”

Joe sighed, smiled, and relaxed his own posture.

“Grilled sounds fine, don’t worry.” Tsunami jumped right back up.

“Okey-dokey! You can wash and start cutting the stuff we have, I’ll go out back to get the grill hot.” Before Joe could argue Tsunami walked off to do his part.

‘C’mon Joseph, puedes hacerlo.’ Joe took out the contents of the bag - a pineapple, some mangos, dragonfruit, starfruit, and overall Okinawa-native produce.

“How he’s planning on grilling water-based fruits is truly a fascinating topic of discussion. And also not my problem.”

He turned on the tab and quickly rinsed all of them. Afterward, he proceeded to stare all of them down and re-evaluate how hungry he actually was. He took a deep breath and looked to the door to see if Tsunami’s coming back, then took the knife in hand.

“Lo hiciste un millón de veces antes, una más no te hará daño.”

Hyping himself in his mother tongue didn’t help the fact that as soon as he held down the mango, the hand he held the knife in started shaking. He put down the knife and breathed again.

“Una vez más, Joseph.” He took the knife again and focused more. ‘Tsunami gave you one job and you are more than confident enough to fucking do it.’

He started cutting the soft fruit and it was going well until he had to slice again and at the last minute messed up his focus.

“Shit!” He let go of the knife and instead gripped his finger. “Maldito idiota…” He prolonged the ‘a’ at the end in frustration. Just then Tsunami walked back in.

“Hi there, I think I got it to work, and how are you- Oh” He paused and looked at the clearly not-great situation. “Everything… Alright?”

“It’s fine,” Joe said sharply, still pissed at himself. He looked at him, his eyes just filled with aggression. “Where do you keep the first aid kit?”

Tsunami looked scared but carefully went to the cabinet above the fridge, took out a white plastic box, and handed it to Joe who snatched it and turned away from him to rummage through it for a bandage in the safety of the counterspace. He was frustrated and getting more and more angry with the things falling out of the box and off the counter until he just screamed and slammed his hand on the nearest surface.

“Hey hey hey,” Tsunami approached quickly. “What happened? What do you need?” He sounded worried, but Joe didn’t respond. Just stood there with his eyes closed, one of his hands close to his chest and the other supporting his weight on the counter. Tsunami hesitated when reaching to put his hand on Joe’s shoulder and instead looked at his bleeding finger. Without a word, he looked around and picked up the adequate equipment from the floor.

“Let me see.” Joe opened his eyes. Tsunami’s face was focused, his eyes serious. He was holding a little spray bottle, some gauze, and a rolled-up small bandage. “Let me help. Or you’ll bleed out.”

A little hyperbole never hurt anyone and it was just enough for Joe King to extend his bleeding finger to let Tsunami handle it while he looked away.

‘Can’t even fucking complete a simple task. Useless.’

He winced in pain when Tsunami cleaned his wound.

“Sorry, I know it hurts…” But it was Tsunami that sounded hurt. And worried. This made Joe feel even worse about the whole situation. He felt soft material going on and around his palm just before Tsunami explained that he was finished.

“Now will you tell me what happened?” When Joe looked at him, he immediately just extended his hands in front of him, spread his palms slightly, and looked down. He could feel them shaking. He hated that feeling.

Suddenly his palms were rolled into soft fists by warm hands. He looked up and Tsunami was looking him in the eyes.

“You should’ve told me.”

“I…” Joe felt like he had forgotten how to speak, his voice apparently did too. “I thought I could do it.”

“You should’ve just told me…” Tsunami was still holding his hands gently. “How bad does it get?”

“Bad enough to fucking cut myself.” His tone was hostile. Tsunami’s hold wavered, but he stood there firmly. Just then Joe realized how it must’ve looked on the outside, with all that anger seeping out of him. He was usually scary-looking, but right now he was scary and angry, like a puma locked in a too-small cage. It hit him that the way Tsunami looked at him just a few minutes ago was scarily similar to the way he looked at him during that match - but this time it had that hint of personal influence in it, like Jude’s gaze had that day.

“Fuck, I’m…” He took away his hands and just sat on the ground. “I’m so sorry, I-”

“Hey hey,” Tsunami rested on his knees in front of him. “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t. It’s not your fault, I presume at least. Shaky hands are usually caused by stress or some other underlying condition, like some past hand trauma, and seeing as you’re a goalkeeper I think I know why yours are as bad as they are. Still doesn’t explain why you didn’t just tell me before, I wouldn’t have left you alone with sharp utensils if I knew!”

“Like I said, I thought I can do it-”

“Well, you clearly can’t!” Tsunami exclaimed. “Joe, next time, please please please, just tell me. I know I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed nor the most handy person, but I can sometimes help out, y’know?”

They stared each other in the eyes, a silent staring battle for who is in the right here. Tsunami won, but only because Joe let him. Or so he told himself. His gaze softened and he took Joe’s hands again.

“I know a lot just happened,” Tsunami said carefully and smiled, looking a little embarrassed. “But I am still hungry…” As if on que Joe’s stomach agreed with the given statement. He sighed.

“Okay than,” Tsunami got up from the floor with Joe before the latter continued. “Let’s get to work.”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll do the cutting now.”

“I’m for, but what am I supposed to do now? Sit on the counter and look pretty?”

“Considering how beautiful you are, I’d say yes.”

“...”

“<3”

#inatober #genda koujirou #tsunami jousuke #hurley kane #joe king #one of my “I just think they're neat” ships #I'm honestly not sure about this one but it's the first thing I've written after a massive writer's block

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