#this took 5 days fuuh

[writing-whump]

I loved the new fic with Seline, Matthew and Isaiah! If you could write anything else with all three of them, I'd love to read it. Maybe Seline having to use her powers? I'm still trying to figure how those work - 🧙‍♀️

Poisoned Isaiah part 2

Part 2 of this fic. This just fit so perfectly for the prompt I had to do it. Thank you for the request, darling!

Content warning: emeto, poison, waterbloating, induced vomiting. Read at your own risk!

***

A few months ago, Isaiah brought a sick Matthew to her place. The door rang the same way, the pose was similar, the plea genuine. In retrospect, that night changed her life in more ways than one.

Seeing Isaiah slumped over Matthew's shoulders - sweaty, pale and pained - was a perfect deja vu for her. Except it was all wrong in the details.

Her hearing zoned out as Matthew frantically explained something about silver poisoning, dust at the bottom of a champagne glass, pack threats and Sonny Carter. The only thing that stood out from that flood of information was Isaiah's serious condition.

Matthew gesticulated aggressively, voice raising without noticing. Seline paced and pulled at her hair and tried to breathe, the world coming in and out of focus in silent, deafening waves.

Only Isaiah sat still in the chair by the dining table. His expression was as always. Calm, assured, slightly amused. As if nothing was wrong, except for the sweat collecting on his upper lip and the way his skin tone changed from white to grey.

"Isaiah, I can't do this," she said. "I'm not a healer. I have no medical training. We have to find you someone else." Her own helplessness, which now sounded like rejection, was painful to her ears.

Isaiah smiled at that, a sad resigned kind of smile that didn't reach his eyes at all. "There is no one else."

"You have connections all over the town! There has to be a clinic or a pack or one, only one allied doctor, who can help!" Seline insisted.

Isaiah gave her a long look, his sea green eyes normally bright and piercing looking dark and shadowed, too big for his face. "There is no one else. I only have you."

Seline whined, both hands in her hair now, looking at Matthew in desperation.

Isaiah coughed, leaning forward on the table, propping his forehead against his hands. "It's alright, Seline. If it doesn't work, it doesn't. Just try."

Was he seriously leaving it to her if he survived the night?

The responsibility suppressed the panic, though, giving her a direction to focus on. A crisis always gave her the best focus.

Silver was trouble. It was toxic to wolves and paralyzed their shadows, so the damage couldn't be just taken away and healed. Knowing the dust was collecting in Isaiah's stomach right now, soaking into his body tissues and spreading into his blood system...she had to get rid of it before it got that far.

"I got an idea," she said, stunned. Matthew's head whipped around to her immediately.

"Take him to the couch and unbutton his shirt," Seline bossed. Matthew nodded eagerly with something to do.

Seline collected her supplies. A 2l water bottle filled with tap water, a big wash basin from the bathroom, a rehydration solution, even a fresh towel could be useful...

She went to the living room, all collected and purposeful movements, effective but thought out. It was important not to make a mistake.

Matthew stripped Isaiah out of his suit and tie, unbuttoning his shirt but leaving it on for now. Maybe because Isaiah was shivering now, his back and neck damp with glistening sweat.

All her supplies securely at the table in front of them, Seline sat down from Isaiah's other side, hands going to his forehead and chest. He was warm, as if he had a fever running and his heartbeat was elevated. His green eyes were dull and hazy, but he still managed a small smirk at her.

"Didn't know you wanted to see me without a shirt so much," he rasped and swayed. Matthew put a hand on his shoulder, holding him steady.

Seline choked back a sob. How could he be joking right now?

Isaiah looked so fragile, out of sorts, completely at their mercy. He, who always radiated such confidence and tight control, dignified and fancy.

Seline cupped his cheek for a second. She wanted to hug him, hold him close, protect the smoking fire going out in front of her eyes. She wanted him to wrap her in his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay. She wanted him to take charge, calm voice, easy conversation, all nonchalant about knowing exactly what to do.

Isaiah leaned into her touch. His green eyes narrowing to slits, he focused on her and she could feel it piercing through her skin, flesh and bones, all the way to her heart.

She let go, turning to her task.

First, she needed to see if she could feel out the silver in his body with her magic. She put both of her hands on Isaiah's stomach. It was flat and muscular and she would have loved more time to appreciate it at a happier occasion. Closing her eyes, she opened her mind to her other senses. Feeling for distortion, a beat out of harmony. To no avail. She couldn't make out the silver in his body. Either that was a good sign, that his body didn't absorb the silver yet or it was a bad sign, meaning her affinity to water wouldn't help her locate the poison.

That what the water was for.

She uncapped the water bottle, bringing it closer.

Matthew gave her a quizzical look.

"We are going to put water into his stomach," Seline explained to them both. It was more for Matthew's sake, cause Isaiah was looking very dazed and not present at the moment. "We will fill it to the brink so I can use my seasinging to collect the silver in the liquid. And then we will make him throw it all up."

"Like when people make themselves vomit to get rid of the poison?" Matthew asked, disbelieving.

"That's the principle of it, yes." Seline nodded. "I need you to help me with him if he struggles. We need to keep him drinking until he is full and I can connect with the water inside his body."

Matthew looked horrified at the prospect before shaking his head in acceptance. He put an arm around Isaiah's shoulders and braced the other against his chest.

Then Seline looked at Isaiah intensily and brought the bottle to his mouth.

Isaiah might not have understood the reasoning behind the plan, but looking at her, he obediently took up the bottle into his hands and drank.

The first part of it went pretty quickly. Isaiah never did things halfway, after all. He stopped after the first half, face scrunched slightly and taking deep breaths.

"Drink more," Seline said gently, gripping his forearm to guide the bottle back to his mouth. Isaiah squinted at her and continued.

Seline watched his throat bob with each gulp. She could hear the water sloshing in his throat as it gathered, even how it was hitting water from the inside.

She put her hands on his stomach, both palms with fingers spread out. His belly was rising steadily, beginning to bulge out.

Now when she opened her other senses, she could feel the water, recognising it from the water bottle. The water she filled from the tap, from the facet she used daily. It was important to have a connection to something hers.

The liquid sang to her in recognition, the consistency and temperature, all the traits tuning together to give her information.

Isaiah gasped and put the bottle down abruptly, eyes squeezing. He coughed and gagged as the last water threatened to resurface.

She grabbed him by both shoulders. "Deep breaths! Take deep breaths! Hold it in," she said with enough emergency and command in her voice that he swallowed strongly against the wave of nausea. He pressed a hand against his mouth, breathing fast as he waited for his stomach to settle.

It was way bigger now, going from flat and toned to the size of a ball, standing out against his slim body. She rubbed at his stomach gently. It was tight and warm under her hands, sloshing and twirling.

The water bottle was almost finished.

"Just a few more sips," Seline said.

"Can't. Feel sick," Isaiah whispered. The desperation and pain in his voice were breaking her heart.

"I know. But it will help, I promise," she said, her voice going down in volume to match his. She ran her hand over the side of his face, combing through his sweaty bangs.

Isaiah raised the bottle to his face, hand shaking. Matthew leaned over to steady the bottle.

Seline returned her hands to their position against Isaiah's tight stomach, stroking and feeling for every change, every new tiny slip as it all added up inside.

Isaiah's stomach was swirling and gurgling in protest now, loud whines echoing through the whole room.

Isaiah's hand sank with the bottle finished. "Please," Isaiah whined. "no more."

"You are done, sweetheart," Seline reassured, taking the empty bottle from his hand to put it on the table. Now comes the hard part.

Isaiah leaned against the backrest of the couch, eyes closing. Matthew went with him, whole body practically draped around Isaiah's shivering form.

Seline pulled her legs up to sit on her knees and leaned over Isaiah's stomach. She ran her palms over it now quicker and with more urgency, stroking every inch, down and up.

Then, she started to sing. She didn't have a new song ready. Not for such a situation and not that quickly. She didn't want to risk choosing a weak song or mistaking a word that wouldn't fit with the rest. Instead, she sang a song she knew, about the sea calling the rivers into it.

The song should connect to the situation and the element, but the purpose of the song was to express meaning and intention with something bigger than just the sum of its parts. Her intention mattered more than the words she sang - the song simply guided and sketched the meaning. This way, she could formulate intents that couldn't be explained, that were too complex or too complicated to put into words.

Right then, what Seline was compensating for was medical knowledge. She couldn't imagine what exactly was happening with the silver particles inside Isaiah's body or the exact way this was damaging the cells. What she could, was supply the goal she had in mind - summon it together. Collect it. Draw it out from all concerns of his body, in the center of his stomach. In the gathered water, she owned, granted and commanded now.

And she could feel the water moving. It was whirling under her hands as the water flowed, gathering up against Isaiah's navel. She could feel it responding on a physical level now. Excellent.

The next song she sang was about cleansing. About good intents and homey atmosphere and all the bad harmful things leaving. It was an old, traditional witch song without a metaphorical meaning she usually preferred, but it felt right to add a literal meaning to the magic too. 

The last song she sang didn’t have words at all. It was just a melody, humming quietly as she now stroked wide circles on Isaiah’s body. She could feel the weight and presence of the silver dust now, gathered together. In her mind, it looked like a tiny glass ball, containing everything toxic and heavy inside the protective mass of water around it. It wouldn’t touch Isaiah anymore. It couldn’t harm him.

Content that it worked, but slightly horrified at the prospect of what would come next, she lifted her eyes to meet Matthew’s. The red-haired wolf was watching Isaiah’s every little grimace and frown, but feeling her gaze, he returned it. She flicked her eyes towards the wash basin, round and deep, waiting on the table.

Matthew’s eyes widened in understanding. He reached for the basin. His hand behind Isaiah’s back went to his nape as he gently pushed him forward to maneuver the bowl under his chin. 

Isaiah wasn’t responsive anymore, dozing and frowning in discomfort. Seline could feel the heat radiating from his skin, but his heartbeat was worryingly slow. They would find out soon if it worked at all.

Matthew and Seline exchanged a long glance, as if counting to three. Then Seline pushed both hands against Isaiah’s stomach, right under the centre. As hard as she could.

The effect was immediate. Isaiah’s eyes opened in alarm as the water shot up his throat, back arching aggressively. He whined at the back of his throat in pain, but couldn’t do anything but let the water spray from his lips.

The hoarse vomiting sound pierced the room as the first wave of water hit the basin. Then the next and the next. The gagging reflex was triggered now and the water kept coming like a flood. Seline didn’t have to push anymore, but she kept her hands on his stomach, feeling for the water as the upset organ gurgled and spasmed before shooting up another.

Suddenly, Isaiah went limp and fell back, Matthew’s arms catching him by a hair. Seline let go, turning to the basin, her hands hovering over the water. She could feel the presence of the silver inside, the weight and amount the same as in Isaiah’s stomach. She sighed in relief. 

They made it.

Except it wasn’t the end of their night by a long shot. Isaiah kept gagging over the basin, somehow still managing to bring up mouthfuls of liquid and bile. His stomach was contracting even when he wasn’t throwing up and he was sweaty and burning up, as if they didn’t get rid of the poison. 

Seline rubbed at his stomach, then ran her hands over his chest and arms, she didn’t feel the silver anymore. What she felt was disharmony, which, after a few panicked minutes, made her realize she felt the damage already done to the tissues. His throat was burned by it, his stomach lining bruised. But there wasn’t any blood. If Isaiah could raise his shadow, it would take away the leftover injuries, no doubt. His shadow was still paralyzed though, not moving. Isaiah’s shadow usually wasn’t visible, very controlled and polite, but she had never seen it like this before. All flimsy and hollow. 

The rest of the night blurred together in a collage. Isaiah would go limp in exhaustion after every bout of vomiting. Seline’s eyes would drift asleep, but then he was gagging and burping just 20 minutes later. It was almost rhythmical, how it repeated itself, even when Isaiah had nothing left to expel. 

At 3 in the morning, Seline was convinced the worst torture was disturbed sleep. They were all drifting off now, only to wake up with Isaiah every time, movements on autopilot. Isaiah would helplessly fall back, against Matthew’s chest or into her lap, curling into himself, moaning quietly before falling back into a fitful sleep. 

Later she would remember only little sensations of comfort in the sea of misery.

The way Isaiah’s breathing evened when he hid his face into Matthew’s shoulder.

The silky texture of his black hair, as she combed through them to his nape and back.

Running her fingers up and down his spine, feeling every little bone.

They didn’t notice where it went from a necessary breach of privacy into such wistful intimacy. When it stopped being weird but became a comfort for all of them. 

After Isaiah broke the record of not throwing up for over an hour, she decided to give him the hydrating solution. Just a few sips would help against the dryness in his puckered lips. His temperature improved then.

At some point during the early morning, when Isaiah kept the solution down, Matthew took him to shower. Seline left them to it, relying on Matthew’s admittedly much larger energy reserves as a wolf, to curl up at the couch. She kept an ear out for the sounds. Hearing the shower running. Matthew’s muffled voice. The sudden empty gags as Isaiah burped and struggled emptily again and Matthew’s voice turning gentle and quiet in response. 

Seline tucked herself under the blanket, curling into the pillow. Just a few breaths of silence when the responsibility of keeping Isaiah upright, clean and as comfortable as possible didn’t feel as imminent. Taking deep breaths, she let herself feel the victory, the sheer relief they made it.

That’s when the tears came.

Seline was too exhausted to know what emotion was to blame. They just kept coming, hot and salty, down her cheeks. She turned her face down to muffle the quiet sobs, not sure if the wolf hearing would allow them to perceive it even during the running shower.

When she door opened, heavy steps coming back, she swallowed them down, swiftly rubbing her cheeks dry. The waterworks stopped at that moment, thankfully.

Matthew positioned freshly showered and finally clean smelling Isaiah in one of her thick white bathroom robes - yes, they were a gift from a hotel - back on the couch.

He gave her a long, unhappy look. If he didn’t hear her, he guessed it.

She shrugged in response, half her face hidden against the pillow. 

Seline didn’t remember whose genius idea it was to unfold the sofa to the size of a bed.

She woke up sometime during midday, sun streaming heavily through the curtains, to the three of them tangled up together on the makeshift bed, snoring peacefully.

[bpro-cardstories]

Tatsuhiro Nome SSR

2017 ー Flower Garden [Flower Garden]

“Troubles, huh…. You….. Do you think flowers suit me?“

Part 1

Mikado: ‘Oho, this magazine has a feature on KiLLER KiNG’s gravure shooting.’ 

Hikaru: ‘Which one? Let me see itー!’ 

Kazuna: ‘Ah, I’m also interested in it.’ 

Mikado: ‘Because they also belong to BPro, right.’ 

(.....Oh. It’s the printed photo I checked the other day.)

Momotaro: ‘.....That gravure shooting’s quite cute.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘It’s kind of…. fancy overall, isn’t it.’ 

Kazuna: ‘Is it because it’s a magazine aimed at middle and high-school students? Things such as the balloon or cushion, it’s the mood girls seem to like.’ 

Mikado: ‘Now that you mention it, we also took this kind of photos.’ 

Hikaru: ‘Yep, we did! During the bambi period, and our debut!’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Hikaru, during the shooting, you truly threw a cushion and got scolded.’

Hikaru: ‘Wait! Tatsu! Forget that already~~!’

Momotaro: ‘No. It hit my face.’ 

Hikaru: ‘Hyaah! Even Pi-chan!’ 

Kazuna: ‘We didn’t do such photo shootings lately, huh.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Indeed….. There has been a lot of adult-like work.’

Hikaru: ‘Though I’d also want to wear a character costumeー!’ 

Kazuna: ‘Ahaha, it would look good on you, Hikaru.’ 

Hikaru: ‘Right!? What should I do if I get such a work offer?’ 

Momotaro: ‘Accept, of course. You just do the job that suits you.’ 

Mikado: ‘As expected of Momotasu, the professional. I also share the same opinion.’ 

Kazuna: ‘Yeah. It’s impossible to turn down an offer that you received.’ 

Hikaru: ‘That’s true! Tatsu will happily accept it as well, right?’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘No….I….’

Tatsuhiro: ‘To be honest, since this fancy thing doesn’t suit me, I don’t want to do it that much….’ 

Hikaru: ‘Ehーー!’ 

Mikado: ‘Nnnhmーーー!! You don’t understand at all!!’ 

Hikaru: ‘Uwaah, that surprised me! Why did you cry out so suddenly, Mikachin.’

Mikado: ‘Tatsu-dono, are you familiar with the word ‘gap moe’?’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘I don’t and don’t want to know.’ 

Mikado: ‘Don’t say so!! Let’s expand your knowledge of wonderful words with me!’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘I said I didn’t want to know. D-Don’t come here!’ 

Mikado: ‘Fufufu. I won’t let you get away~~♪’

(Nome-san isn’t good with cute things, so when the time comes that such work appears, let’s do our best to make adjustments in order to avoid it….) 

Part 2

Tsubasa: ‘Everyone, please listen! BPro was appointed to the Flower Garden advertisement poster!’ 

Hikaru: ‘Flower Garden, is it the place where we do the opening ceremony this time?’ 

Kazuna: ‘If I’m not mistaken, we talked about it, a newly built multi-purpose establishment where you can do a party or live.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Yes, that is correct.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘We aren’t just going to perform a live, huh.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘If the BPro members are part of the advertisement, young women will probably be interested as well, so it was decided! And because the place where Flower Garden happens is also located at Omotesandō*.’

Hikaru: ‘Heeー! Isn’t that great! I want to take pictures with sunflowers!’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘No, they aren’t blooming right now.’ 

Hikaru: ‘Eh, they aren’t?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘There will be a group photo of BPro but it seems that each member will also do a single version.’ 

Mikado: ‘Ohoho, it seems to be quite a number of posters. They will be lined up all over the station. That will also happen, am I right?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Yes, of course!’ 

Kazuna: ‘That’s impressive. We will decorate a part of the station.’  

Momotaro: ‘Yeah. It seems that we’ll become the topic of everyone.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘It is about the content of the posters, as Hikaru-kun said, each one will shoot together with a flower. Because it seems to be a flower you choose for yourself, you are able to show the fans a new side of you, I think.’ 

Mikado: ‘That is where the leader of MooNs comes in!’ 

Kazuna: ‘Eeh? I think that’s not the case.’ 

Mikado: ‘No, no! Because it’s leader, it’s certain that any flower will suit you! Of course, Momotasu won’t be defeated~!’ 

Momotaro: ‘Such a thing is Mika’s field of expertise.’ 

Mikado: ‘Of course.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘.........’ 

(Oh. Nome-san looks depressed, I wonder what happened…..) 

Tatsuhiro: ‘......Haah.’ 

Part 3

(I came a bit too early. Let’s wait in the lounge…..Oh?) 

Tsubasa: ‘Nome-san, good morning.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘Aah, you’re quite early.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘You too, Nome-san. Did something happen?’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘No, you see…..’ 

(That’s the depressing face he made the other day too. Perhaps it’s the Flower Garden photoshoot today that he’s troubled about?)

Tsubasa: ‘Nome-san, uhm….. Should you be worried about the photoshoot today, won’t you tell me?’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Eh?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘I think it is better to take a picture in perfect condition.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘.......Ahー…… You’re right.’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Troubles, huh…. You….. Do you think flowers suit me?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Eh…..?’

Tatsuhiro: ‘I’ve been thinking about it ever since I saw the proposal of the opening ceremony. Even if I’m in this kind of atmosphere, somehow….. I feel out of place, you could say.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘Although it suits the others, I wonder if I won’t stand out too much. Since a long time ago, I don’t know how to show myself well with a theme that’s really cute like flowers or balloons.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Nome-san…..’ 

(I was thinking that this work would be a different poster shooting than a cute one for middle and high-school students. But for Nome-san it’s the same….)

Tatsuhiro: ‘You can’t imagine me with things like flowers, right?’ 

Her following response quite surprises him, he did not expect such an answer from her.

Tsubasa: ‘.....No. I think that is not true.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘Really?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Yes. I can imagine the figure encircled by flowers very naturally. With Nome-san’s appearance, I think any flower will suit you, both a flashy and a lovely one.’

Tsubasa: ‘......Could it be, you dislike flowers?’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘No, it’s not that I don’t like flowers themselves….’

Tsubasa: ‘If that is so, then it will be fine. Please have more confidence in yourself.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘........’ 

Her positivity brings a small smile to his face but it does not stay for long….

Tsubasa: ‘Everything will be fine!’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘......Fuuh, you sure are optimistic, huh.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Yes! After all, I am MooNs’ A&R.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘.......I see.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘A flower that suits me, I still don’t know…..’ 

Tatsuhiro: Well, it can’t be helped.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Yes.’ 

(I’m glad…. Nome-san, it looks like you recovered a bit.)

Tatsuhiro: ‘..........’ 

(But, he’s still insecure after all….. I hope the photoshoot goes well for him.)

Part 4

Hikaru: ‘Tatsu~! Look at this!’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘I’m getting ready now. I’ll look at it later.’ 

Hikaru: ‘The Flower Garden posters are hung up at the station since today. It’s a hot topic!’ 

Tsubasa: ‘That seems to be. It looks like the people are taking pictures together with the posters and are posting them on SNS.’ 

Hikaru: ‘See, here take a look! There’s even a girl with Tatsu’s poster!’ 

Kazuna: ‘The girl seems to be happy. It’s surely because Tatsuhiro’s picture has a nice expression.’ 

Hikaru: ‘Your expression during the first round of the shooting was stiff, but the last one came out very naturally and nice~’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘S-Shut up.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Certainly, it seemed so. But, why did the atmosphere soften up in the middle of the shooting?’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘Ahー, no, that’s…..’ 

Hikaru: ‘It was thanks to Mika and me putting flowers on Tsubasa-chan’s head during Tatsu’s turnー!’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, that time….!’

Kazuna: ‘Fufu, Sumisora-san, you didn’t notice anything at all. At some point, your head was full of flowers. That was quite cute.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘H-How embarrassing….’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘You were standing there, a head with flowers on and a serious face. It seems that I lost my strength to that and made me laugh.’ 

Mikado: ‘Noー, I didn’t think neither we nor Tsubasa-san didn’t notice until then.’

Momotaro: ‘You must have been quite serious.’ 

Mikado: ‘However Tatsu-dono. That’s not the interesting point. You have to say it’s cute like leader did!’

Hikaru: ‘He’s right! Wasn’t Tsubasa-chan with the many flowers cute!’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘Haa!? W-What are you saying.’ 

Momotaro: ‘Does it mean, it wasn’t cute for Tatsu?’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘Wrong….! O-Onzai, don’t you too say weird things!’

Mikado: ‘Ohoho? Tatsu-dono, isn’t your face becoming red?’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘It isn’t!’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Fufufu.’

(I’m glad the shooting went well. It would be great if today’s ceremony also turns into a wonderful event.)

Part 5

ーThe next day.ー

Hikaru: ‘Yesterday’s opening ceremony was really funー!’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Hikaru-kun, you really were in high spirits.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ’ You had too much fun.’ 

Hikaru: ‘Eeh! I mean, didn’t the organizers say that we  could have fun once the stage performance is over!’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘That’s why it was okay to eat the venue’s food to that extent?’ 

Mikado: ‘He is right, Hikarun. Didn’t it look we don’t give you any food?’ 

Hikaru: ‘Eh!? Am I a pet!?’ _______

Momotaro: ‘......It’s good that both, yesterday’s ceremony and the stage performance, went well.’ 

Kazuna: ‘It looks like we could make the guests happy, the venue’s flowers were beautiful and lovely as well.’ 

(Everyone on the stage was sparkling, it was really amazing.)

Kazuna: ‘.....Ah, we still have time. Shall we slowly start our meeting?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Ah, yes. But, before it, there is only one thing….’

Tsubasa: ‘To be honest, a new job has been decided for Nome-san.’ 

Hikaru: ‘Ehーー!! Tatsu, isn’t that amazing!’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘What job is it?’ 

Tsubasa: ‘It is a magazine gravure shooting but it seems that the theme is a tsundere boys feature.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘.....Tsundere?’ 

Mikado: ‘Let me explain here! A tsundere is a dual nature consisting of the Tsuntsun’s cold attitude and the Deredere’s nice attitude. It’s certainly no exaggeration to say that of the 80% of intellectuals a fifth of them loves this type, it is the ultimate cheat moe attribute!’

Mikado: ‘For example, even though Momotasu is expressionless, at night….’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘That’s already enough!’ 

Mikado: ‘What are you saying? It’s getting important from here?’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘I vaguely know what a tsundere is!’ 

Mikado: ‘Hoo! That’s rude.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘U-Uhm…. This is from the editorial department. They say that they want to take pictures of Nome-san’s gap between his cool and soft expression.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘.....Geh.’

Tsubasa: ‘I think, if it is Nome-san then you can do it. The Flower Garden poster turned out to be wonderful. …..But, if you do not like it, then I will try to consult if you are not able to do another project.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘.......’ 

Hikaru: ‘If it’s Tatsu, it will work, I’m sure! Last time was perfect after all!’ 

Momotaro: ‘That really was a wonderful expression.’ 

Kazuna: ‘It was thanks to Sumisora-san that Tatsuhiro was able to let out such great mood.’ 

Mikado: ‘That’s true. If he becomes stiff, I wonder how it will turn out if we give Tsubasa-san a cute appearance again!’ 

Mikado’s suggestions fluster Tatsuhiro quite a bit and make him blush.

Mikado: ‘How do you like a police officer with miniskirt next time?’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘I don’t need it!’ 

Mikado: ‘Oho, is a nurse more to your liking?’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘That’s not the problem! Shut up for a bit.’ 

Mikado: ‘Meeh (´・ω・`)’

Tatsuhiro: ‘.....No. I’m not really going to refuse it.’

Tatsuhiro: ‘Well, it’s true that I got some tips from the poster shooting.’ 

Tsubasa: ‘Then…..!’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘Yeah, let me do it.’ 

Momotaro: ‘You look like you’re preparing yourself.’ 

Mikado: ‘I’m looking forward to Tatsu-dono’s Deredere photo.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘There’s nothing interesting about, you know.’ 

Mikado: ‘Don’t be absurd. I’m just genuinely looking forward to it.’ 

Tatsuhiro: ‘.....Haah.’

(Nome-san, you said you’re not good with this kind of work but if you can support it well, you can overcome it little by little.)

(From here on, for the sake of broadening Nome-san’s work field, I can’t only avoid his weaknesses, I have to support them. For that, I too have to give my best.)

END _________________________ *Omotesandō: Omotesandō (表参道) is a zelkova tree-lined avenue located in Shibuya and Minato, Tokyo, stretching from the Meiji Shrine entrance to Aoyama-dōri (Aoyama Street), where Omotesandō Station can be found. Omotesandō is known as one of the foremost ‘architectural showcase’ streets in the world, featuring a multitude of fashion flagship stores within a short distance of each other. [Source: Wikipedia]