[LOG] KITE EISHIROU / MARUI BUNTA
Feb. 21st, 2018 09:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maruibuns posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
tennis_hellWho: KITE EISHIROU / MARUI BUNTA
Where: Basil Gardens Kitchen
When: 20th Feb
Brief Summary: Following the offensive comments about ugly nipples.
It hadn't yet been 24 hours since Marui, apparently, dug his own grave. He was being careful when walking around the dorm, peeking at every corner and into every room, hoping that he wouldn’t be suddenly pushed into the figurative hole he crafted the night before. It wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed doing, it was troublesome to say the least, but Hirakoba never really told him how long it would take for Kite to forget the things he said about those people he didn’t even know. On Tuesday, Marui has a busy day, and by the time he returns to the dorms, after jamming with Kamio, it is already evening. His stomach rumbles as soon as he walks past the kitchen. Damn, he is hungry, so much so, he forgets about Kite, nipples and death by Okinawan. Food. All he needs is some nice dinner, some sweet dessert and bed.
Not bothering to stop by his room, he leans his guitar against the wall and goes straight to the fridge. “Uhmmmmm… what to eat? What to eat?” he says aloud while already shoving some leftovers–that don't belong to him–into his mouth.
After the amount of effort Marui appears to have stuck into not being in the same room as him at the same time, Kite found it almost amusing when Marui seems to utterly overlook his being there in favor of the refrigerator. He leans back into the shadowy corner he’d claimed earlier and swallows the last of his tea, contemplatively shifting his weight across the soles of his feet.
He’s pretty sure that whatever Hirakoba and Marui discussed between the two of them has gotten the point across, but it can’t hurt to make his stance on things a little clearer, he thinks. With carefully practiced quietness he pushes away from the wall, empty mug in hand, and pads over to Marui, careful to keep the fabric of his clothes from making too much noise and giving him away, until he is standing close enough behind him he can feel the open fridge’s coolness through his shirt.
Then, with the loudest bang he can manage without breaking it, he sets the mug down on the counter.
“Hello, Marui-kun.”
“Uhm-hm~~…” Marui was humming while be pondered about dinner, taking condiments out of the fridge, his mouth half-full of other people’s food. He stops suddenly. The little hairs in his arms seem to stand and he has this eerie feeling coming from the back of his neck, but as he is about to turn around to look, the loud bang and the voice that follows give him such a fright that everything in his hands shoots into the air. He turns around and presses against the fridge, the door still open.
“Kiteretsu…” he mumbles, huge lilac eyes staring back at the much taller, much stronger, much threatening man standing before him.
More out of reflex than anything else Kite snatches a bottle of mustard out of the air before it hits him in the face, forcing down the urge to take a step back at the accidental projectile attack. Something glass shatters next to his feet, splattering the contents against the side of his leg, and Kite purses his lips in disapproval.
“You startle easily, Marui-kun,” he drawls. “Guilty conscience?”
His eyes move down briefly, glancing toward the sound of breaking glass, the jar of pickled ginger now scattered not only on the floor but also on Kite’s leg. Well, that definitely won’t help his defence at all! If anything, judging by the look on the Okinawan’s face, it hindered it slightly. Marui feels his lips going dry, most likely because they’ve been parted for a while without any words passing through them.
“I…hn…” am sorry? But why is he apologising to being with? .. Oh yeah, so he lives to see another day. Yet, he continues on a different path, “I… wouldn’t put like that,” he tongues his lips just so words flow better, “Wasn’t expecting anyone here at this hour.”
With forced calm, Kite reaches past Marui and puts the mustard bottle back into the fridge, firmly trying to ignore the cold, wet stain spreading over his calf while he waits for Marui to regain his composure.
“It’s a communal kitchen,” he notes dryly, eyes flicking over to the mess of shards, food and a toppled container of something labelled on the floor. “And I’m sure Shishido-kun will greatly appreciate you stealing his takeout. Now, I believe you and I have something to discuss, don’t we?”
“I didn’t mean… you couldn’t…” he pauses. Marui never really felt like his height was an issue, but as Kite leans in, the redhead presses even further back into the cold fridge, feeling quite scrawny in comparison. Surely he wouldn’t do anything to him, right? Memories from their past encounter come to Marui’s mind. Kite had no problem whatsoever in hitting him with a tennis ball several times when they played together. Now, they aren’t even on the same side. Back then, he also hadn’t ‘insulted’ his friends, he had trusted him and still got a beating. It isn’t that Marui didn’t want to have this talk, but he was hoping it would happen after he had gained the trust of at least one of Kite’s childhood friends.
“I guess…” he bends his knee to somehow move away from Kite and the fridge. “Coffee? Tea?… Hot cocoa?” he offers, in desperate need to drink something, anything.
Not wanting to stand in the fridge’s cold air any longer than necessary, and figuring his point has been made, Kite rolls his shoulders and takes a step back, grimacing at the feeling of his wet pant leg clinging to his skin.
“I just had some,” he says, gesturing at the empty mug that started it all. “And this doesn’t need to be a long conversation. All we need to do is establish some ground rules, after all.”
Now, away from the threatening man slightly, Marui can breath better and regain his manly stance. He looks around the kitchen floor to try and salvage whatever didn’t break and could still be used for his dinner. Shame about his pickled ginger though, he had just bought it the other day. Kite’s trousers also didn’t look very pleasant. “As brief as you want this to be, I hope it’s not a one-sided conversation, Kiteretsu. I’m not a hundred percent at fault here… but I am sorry about your pants.”
Narrowing his eyes, Kite seizes Marui up. “Bold, considering the situation you just found yourself into. This isn’t a tough arrangement from my end of the deal, Marui-kun. You refrain from insulting people I care about, and the two of us won’t need to meet like this again. Unless you’ve something you’d like to add?”
It was bold, but from Marui point of view, he was right. Taking the kettle and filling in up in the sink, Marui listens to Kite without saying a word until the question comes. “Hm-uhm, I want to add,” he takes a cup from the shelf and adds cocoa powder to it. “First, I didn’t insult you friends. Hiraboka mentioned horrible nipples someone I don’t even know had while mocking my being short. I followed the joke saying I would avoid that. I didn’t and still don’t know who he was referring too. Maybe I met them, but I don’t remember them or their nipples to pass any judgement. If I knew them, and their nipples… though that would be weird," he pauses and shakes off that thought ,”… my point is, I don’t mock people’s physical appearance. I’ve been at the other end of that. I wouldn’t.” Marui then takes the kettle and pours the water into the cup. “I didn’t refer to your friends in any way. You escalated it, and I’m sorry if I step up when people get in my face, but what did you expect? That I apologised and walked out? You played with me, Kite, you know I’m not like that.” He says it all without giving Kite the chance to speak, and then he goes quiet, mixing the chocolate and tons of sugar in the cup. Strangely enough, he isn’t hungry anymore.
With a disapproving click of his tongue, Kite adjusts his glasses and fixes Marui with a glare. “If you’ve been at the other end of remarks about physical traits before, then one’d assume you’d at least learn to mind your words, Marui-kun. Hirakoba-kun has known Tanishi-kun and Chinen-kun for a long time. They know where they stand with one another. Do not try to pass the blame to him.”
Then, letting the tension bleed out of his shoulders with a sigh, he leans down to pull the cold, wet patch on his pant leg away from his skin. “For what it’s worth, your tenacity is… admirable. Mind who you insult in the future, Marui-kun, and you’ll be fine. Now if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll go have a shower.”
Marui would rather continue until Kite understood that, if he went back to those comments, he would see that they were not directed to anyone and that those names meant nothing to him, not out of disrespect but he simply didn’t remember them. The last thing he wanted, though, was Kite to leave with the idea that he is blaming and accusing yet another of his friends, just when Hirakoba advised him to be friends with his friends and all.
“I’m not… blaming him” he mutters as he sips from the hot chocolate, “If it sounds like that, it’s a bad habit that is hard to shift” he turns around to look at the other. “I can’t promise I’ll never insult someone you care about without knowing you know them and care for them, but I won’t if I know… is that god enough?… Oh and, Kiteretsu, I’m sorry for breaking a glass and making a mess on your pants. It was your fault though,” says the last part in a more playful tone.
With another roll of his eyes, Kite straightens up again. “Then I recommend you work at growing out of the habit. I’ll keep your thoughtlessness in mind, Marui-kun, but I’ve no intention of letting people close to me be thoughtlessly insulted without interference.”
Surveying the mess on the floor for the route least likely to get any additional food stains on his already ruined pants, he balances his weight onto his left leg and does an odd little sideways leap outside of the pickle juice puddle, making a sour face as his slippers squelch with absorbed liquid where he lands. “I’ll be sure to consider the cleanup of your mess your karmic payment for lingering smells in my closet. I will leave you to that, then.”
Considering everything, the conversation could have gone a lot worse. It was enough for now that, if anything, he didn’t have to watch his back around the dorm anymore. The thought of offering to wash Kite’s trousers for him even crossed his mind, but he decides to keep that to himself, feeling it would make the situation more awkward and doubted Kite would agree.
As the other walkes away, the redhead scans the floor and sighs. No dinner and late night cleaning, sounds like karma alright.
Where: Basil Gardens Kitchen
When: 20th Feb
Brief Summary: Following the offensive comments about ugly nipples.
It hadn't yet been 24 hours since Marui, apparently, dug his own grave. He was being careful when walking around the dorm, peeking at every corner and into every room, hoping that he wouldn’t be suddenly pushed into the figurative hole he crafted the night before. It wasn’t something he particularly enjoyed doing, it was troublesome to say the least, but Hirakoba never really told him how long it would take for Kite to forget the things he said about those people he didn’t even know. On Tuesday, Marui has a busy day, and by the time he returns to the dorms, after jamming with Kamio, it is already evening. His stomach rumbles as soon as he walks past the kitchen. Damn, he is hungry, so much so, he forgets about Kite, nipples and death by Okinawan. Food. All he needs is some nice dinner, some sweet dessert and bed.
Not bothering to stop by his room, he leans his guitar against the wall and goes straight to the fridge. “Uhmmmmm… what to eat? What to eat?” he says aloud while already shoving some leftovers–that don't belong to him–into his mouth.
After the amount of effort Marui appears to have stuck into not being in the same room as him at the same time, Kite found it almost amusing when Marui seems to utterly overlook his being there in favor of the refrigerator. He leans back into the shadowy corner he’d claimed earlier and swallows the last of his tea, contemplatively shifting his weight across the soles of his feet.
He’s pretty sure that whatever Hirakoba and Marui discussed between the two of them has gotten the point across, but it can’t hurt to make his stance on things a little clearer, he thinks. With carefully practiced quietness he pushes away from the wall, empty mug in hand, and pads over to Marui, careful to keep the fabric of his clothes from making too much noise and giving him away, until he is standing close enough behind him he can feel the open fridge’s coolness through his shirt.
Then, with the loudest bang he can manage without breaking it, he sets the mug down on the counter.
“Hello, Marui-kun.”
“Uhm-hm~~…” Marui was humming while be pondered about dinner, taking condiments out of the fridge, his mouth half-full of other people’s food. He stops suddenly. The little hairs in his arms seem to stand and he has this eerie feeling coming from the back of his neck, but as he is about to turn around to look, the loud bang and the voice that follows give him such a fright that everything in his hands shoots into the air. He turns around and presses against the fridge, the door still open.
“Kiteretsu…” he mumbles, huge lilac eyes staring back at the much taller, much stronger, much threatening man standing before him.
More out of reflex than anything else Kite snatches a bottle of mustard out of the air before it hits him in the face, forcing down the urge to take a step back at the accidental projectile attack. Something glass shatters next to his feet, splattering the contents against the side of his leg, and Kite purses his lips in disapproval.
“You startle easily, Marui-kun,” he drawls. “Guilty conscience?”
His eyes move down briefly, glancing toward the sound of breaking glass, the jar of pickled ginger now scattered not only on the floor but also on Kite’s leg. Well, that definitely won’t help his defence at all! If anything, judging by the look on the Okinawan’s face, it hindered it slightly. Marui feels his lips going dry, most likely because they’ve been parted for a while without any words passing through them.
“I…hn…” am sorry? But why is he apologising to being with? .. Oh yeah, so he lives to see another day. Yet, he continues on a different path, “I… wouldn’t put like that,” he tongues his lips just so words flow better, “Wasn’t expecting anyone here at this hour.”
With forced calm, Kite reaches past Marui and puts the mustard bottle back into the fridge, firmly trying to ignore the cold, wet stain spreading over his calf while he waits for Marui to regain his composure.
“It’s a communal kitchen,” he notes dryly, eyes flicking over to the mess of shards, food and a toppled container of something labelled on the floor. “And I’m sure Shishido-kun will greatly appreciate you stealing his takeout. Now, I believe you and I have something to discuss, don’t we?”
“I didn’t mean… you couldn’t…” he pauses. Marui never really felt like his height was an issue, but as Kite leans in, the redhead presses even further back into the cold fridge, feeling quite scrawny in comparison. Surely he wouldn’t do anything to him, right? Memories from their past encounter come to Marui’s mind. Kite had no problem whatsoever in hitting him with a tennis ball several times when they played together. Now, they aren’t even on the same side. Back then, he also hadn’t ‘insulted’ his friends, he had trusted him and still got a beating. It isn’t that Marui didn’t want to have this talk, but he was hoping it would happen after he had gained the trust of at least one of Kite’s childhood friends.
“I guess…” he bends his knee to somehow move away from Kite and the fridge. “Coffee? Tea?… Hot cocoa?” he offers, in desperate need to drink something, anything.
Not wanting to stand in the fridge’s cold air any longer than necessary, and figuring his point has been made, Kite rolls his shoulders and takes a step back, grimacing at the feeling of his wet pant leg clinging to his skin.
“I just had some,” he says, gesturing at the empty mug that started it all. “And this doesn’t need to be a long conversation. All we need to do is establish some ground rules, after all.”
Now, away from the threatening man slightly, Marui can breath better and regain his manly stance. He looks around the kitchen floor to try and salvage whatever didn’t break and could still be used for his dinner. Shame about his pickled ginger though, he had just bought it the other day. Kite’s trousers also didn’t look very pleasant. “As brief as you want this to be, I hope it’s not a one-sided conversation, Kiteretsu. I’m not a hundred percent at fault here… but I am sorry about your pants.”
Narrowing his eyes, Kite seizes Marui up. “Bold, considering the situation you just found yourself into. This isn’t a tough arrangement from my end of the deal, Marui-kun. You refrain from insulting people I care about, and the two of us won’t need to meet like this again. Unless you’ve something you’d like to add?”
It was bold, but from Marui point of view, he was right. Taking the kettle and filling in up in the sink, Marui listens to Kite without saying a word until the question comes. “Hm-uhm, I want to add,” he takes a cup from the shelf and adds cocoa powder to it. “First, I didn’t insult you friends. Hiraboka mentioned horrible nipples someone I don’t even know had while mocking my being short. I followed the joke saying I would avoid that. I didn’t and still don’t know who he was referring too. Maybe I met them, but I don’t remember them or their nipples to pass any judgement. If I knew them, and their nipples… though that would be weird," he pauses and shakes off that thought ,”… my point is, I don’t mock people’s physical appearance. I’ve been at the other end of that. I wouldn’t.” Marui then takes the kettle and pours the water into the cup. “I didn’t refer to your friends in any way. You escalated it, and I’m sorry if I step up when people get in my face, but what did you expect? That I apologised and walked out? You played with me, Kite, you know I’m not like that.” He says it all without giving Kite the chance to speak, and then he goes quiet, mixing the chocolate and tons of sugar in the cup. Strangely enough, he isn’t hungry anymore.
With a disapproving click of his tongue, Kite adjusts his glasses and fixes Marui with a glare. “If you’ve been at the other end of remarks about physical traits before, then one’d assume you’d at least learn to mind your words, Marui-kun. Hirakoba-kun has known Tanishi-kun and Chinen-kun for a long time. They know where they stand with one another. Do not try to pass the blame to him.”
Then, letting the tension bleed out of his shoulders with a sigh, he leans down to pull the cold, wet patch on his pant leg away from his skin. “For what it’s worth, your tenacity is… admirable. Mind who you insult in the future, Marui-kun, and you’ll be fine. Now if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll go have a shower.”
Marui would rather continue until Kite understood that, if he went back to those comments, he would see that they were not directed to anyone and that those names meant nothing to him, not out of disrespect but he simply didn’t remember them. The last thing he wanted, though, was Kite to leave with the idea that he is blaming and accusing yet another of his friends, just when Hirakoba advised him to be friends with his friends and all.
“I’m not… blaming him” he mutters as he sips from the hot chocolate, “If it sounds like that, it’s a bad habit that is hard to shift” he turns around to look at the other. “I can’t promise I’ll never insult someone you care about without knowing you know them and care for them, but I won’t if I know… is that god enough?… Oh and, Kiteretsu, I’m sorry for breaking a glass and making a mess on your pants. It was your fault though,” says the last part in a more playful tone.
With another roll of his eyes, Kite straightens up again. “Then I recommend you work at growing out of the habit. I’ll keep your thoughtlessness in mind, Marui-kun, but I’ve no intention of letting people close to me be thoughtlessly insulted without interference.”
Surveying the mess on the floor for the route least likely to get any additional food stains on his already ruined pants, he balances his weight onto his left leg and does an odd little sideways leap outside of the pickle juice puddle, making a sour face as his slippers squelch with absorbed liquid where he lands. “I’ll be sure to consider the cleanup of your mess your karmic payment for lingering smells in my closet. I will leave you to that, then.”
Considering everything, the conversation could have gone a lot worse. It was enough for now that, if anything, he didn’t have to watch his back around the dorm anymore. The thought of offering to wash Kite’s trousers for him even crossed his mind, but he decides to keep that to himself, feeling it would make the situation more awkward and doubted Kite would agree.
As the other walkes away, the redhead scans the floor and sighs. No dinner and late night cleaning, sounds like karma alright.
