[Fanfic] Nathing Good
Type: Fanfic
Series: 100% Orange Juice/Sora
Quality: Real bad
Warnings: Probably completely out of character and out of canon, but it's something.
Words: 1120
Brief Description: Me trying to get in Nath's head. I wanted to make a story where Sora and Nath hugged but I didn't quite get there. Oh well. Practice is practice.
Clean tiles. Soft beds. An array of machinery to prolong the life of a sleeping warrior. These surroundings are becoming steadily more familiar to me: one more facet of a world I would have never seen, without you.
Time, I am discovering, is a problem. A soldier is mindful of every second, for every second is a window for victory or for death. Try as I might, I cannot purge that way of thinking. In my heart of hearts, I am still Nath, the Ultimate Weapon of a bygone war. Here is a joke for you: I never anticipated having this much time on my hands. Ha. This concludes the joke.
My new career in comedy notwithstanding, I fill the hours by keeping watch over the remains of Great War's various factions. In the war, there were two weapons greater than I, but I am the strongest of what is left, and I have every intention of this remaining the case. While I breathe, I will not suffer the creation of more weapons like you and I. That is the cause to which I have devoted myself.
There are days, though, when the world stands still, and there is nothing to be done but wait, each second an age all to itself. On those days I find myself here: a quiet manse in a sunlit grove, with one sprawling wing reduced to rubble, and the other steadily being filled with medicine, machines, and mattresses.
This is where that man, Yukihito, found me -- or, rather, what was left of me. Being a weapon proved to be a blessing as well as a curse; just as weapons can be replaced, they can also be rebuilt. I got to know him a little over the months of recovery; a gentle optimist, a fierce intellectual. The kind of man who inspires strength in others. The most dangerous kind of man. You seem to have picked well, Sora.
"Here again, Nath?" he says, shuffling into the room with a teapot in hand. When I met him he was still wearing a tatty lab coat and zip up boots, but lately he's swapped them for a blazer and slippers. "My, my. You're our best customer."
I roll my eyes. He's a difficult man to deal with. Very disarming. (Ha. This raises my joke counter to two. Before long, the world will be at my feet). "I had some time," I reply, as is traditional.
"Here, try this tea. The first batch of mint leaves came through today, and I was just about to enjoy a cup on the veranda with Sora," he says, setting a cup on the bedside table and pouring. "Although I daresay I'd enjoy it a touch more than her."
You probably wouldn't enjoy the tea, if you were awake. It tastes of warm nothing; for all his qualities as a man of science, Yukihito struggles as a chef. But you might enjoy the view. Whenever weather permits, he wheels your bed outside so you can sleep under the sun, and the blue sky you fought for. He says it should be the first thing you see when you wake up. That's the kind of man he is, I suppose.
"Have you made any progress on the extensions?" I ask, knowing that he hasn't. It was a minor miracle that I was able to recover spare parts for my old ones, left behind in one of the old bases from the war.
"The non-combat models? I have Sham working on decrypting your old blueprints, but it's taking some time. It's military technology, after all. Once I have some idea of how they work, I can reverse engineer them, but..." he trails off, scratching the bridge of his nose.
"For now, the prosthetics are the best we can do," I finish.
"It won't be forever. You know Sham. She seems unreliable, but she'll get it done."
Sham... That girl was the one who caught you when you fell screaming down through the atmosphere, like a comet. That little trap of hers, the Delta Field, turned out to have some use after all. She was always watching over you, even at the end.
I see her occasionally on my visits, floating like a cheerful fairy through the wards. You aren't the only one here, you see. Every so often, we pick up another discarded weapon with some life left in them. ...It's troublesome. Some of them have lost everything, except their grudges. One girl almost tried to strangle you for separating her from her husband. Sham calmed her down by applying what I believe was a figure four leg lock, followed by a session of sisterly bonding over romantic gossip. The ways of diplomacy are strange and foreign to me.
It must be said that there is sometimes a certain kind of tension between Sham and Yukihito. They argue about things that they both know have no meaning, as a proxy for the arguments they want and need to have. I can't tell if they're in love with each other, or both in love with you, or somewhere in between. All I know is that they have a great deal of passion, a great deal of it is shared, and it sometimes runs over into blazing rows about monogrammed soup spoons and the assumed superiority of vinyl records.
The sun has begun to set over the veranda; my tea, which I have politely drunk half of and will later dispose of the rest in the marigolds, has cooled. Yukihito, and I, and you; none of us is feeling particularly chatty. I rise, and sigh. One more day has passed in peace, and I am one day closer to... something. Anything. I have more time than I ever intended, ever wanted. I don't want to count the seconds anymore, to see opportunities and dangers in every one. I want time to blur together, in one seamless wave that carries me forward.
"About those extensions... Is there any particular reason you want non-combat ones?" Yukihito asks, as I shrug on my jacket. Sleeveless, of course. I pause, and consider my answer.
"None of your business," I reply.
He grins. Men like him are the most dangerous. He'll ask me again the next time I visit, and again, and again, and again, until he gets the answer. An answer he probably already knows.
Sora, our softly sleeping savior. When I looked at you one day, long ago, trussed up in your hospital bed and bathed in a sunlight you had earned but could not see, I thought you could use a hug. One way or another, I will make sure that there is one waiting for you.
Series: 100% Orange Juice/Sora
Quality: Real bad
Warnings: Probably completely out of character and out of canon, but it's something.
Words: 1120
Brief Description: Me trying to get in Nath's head. I wanted to make a story where Sora and Nath hugged but I didn't quite get there. Oh well. Practice is practice.
Clean tiles. Soft beds. An array of machinery to prolong the life of a sleeping warrior. These surroundings are becoming steadily more familiar to me: one more facet of a world I would have never seen, without you.
Time, I am discovering, is a problem. A soldier is mindful of every second, for every second is a window for victory or for death. Try as I might, I cannot purge that way of thinking. In my heart of hearts, I am still Nath, the Ultimate Weapon of a bygone war. Here is a joke for you: I never anticipated having this much time on my hands. Ha. This concludes the joke.
My new career in comedy notwithstanding, I fill the hours by keeping watch over the remains of Great War's various factions. In the war, there were two weapons greater than I, but I am the strongest of what is left, and I have every intention of this remaining the case. While I breathe, I will not suffer the creation of more weapons like you and I. That is the cause to which I have devoted myself.
There are days, though, when the world stands still, and there is nothing to be done but wait, each second an age all to itself. On those days I find myself here: a quiet manse in a sunlit grove, with one sprawling wing reduced to rubble, and the other steadily being filled with medicine, machines, and mattresses.
This is where that man, Yukihito, found me -- or, rather, what was left of me. Being a weapon proved to be a blessing as well as a curse; just as weapons can be replaced, they can also be rebuilt. I got to know him a little over the months of recovery; a gentle optimist, a fierce intellectual. The kind of man who inspires strength in others. The most dangerous kind of man. You seem to have picked well, Sora.
"Here again, Nath?" he says, shuffling into the room with a teapot in hand. When I met him he was still wearing a tatty lab coat and zip up boots, but lately he's swapped them for a blazer and slippers. "My, my. You're our best customer."
I roll my eyes. He's a difficult man to deal with. Very disarming. (Ha. This raises my joke counter to two. Before long, the world will be at my feet). "I had some time," I reply, as is traditional.
"Here, try this tea. The first batch of mint leaves came through today, and I was just about to enjoy a cup on the veranda with Sora," he says, setting a cup on the bedside table and pouring. "Although I daresay I'd enjoy it a touch more than her."
You probably wouldn't enjoy the tea, if you were awake. It tastes of warm nothing; for all his qualities as a man of science, Yukihito struggles as a chef. But you might enjoy the view. Whenever weather permits, he wheels your bed outside so you can sleep under the sun, and the blue sky you fought for. He says it should be the first thing you see when you wake up. That's the kind of man he is, I suppose.
"Have you made any progress on the extensions?" I ask, knowing that he hasn't. It was a minor miracle that I was able to recover spare parts for my old ones, left behind in one of the old bases from the war.
"The non-combat models? I have Sham working on decrypting your old blueprints, but it's taking some time. It's military technology, after all. Once I have some idea of how they work, I can reverse engineer them, but..." he trails off, scratching the bridge of his nose.
"For now, the prosthetics are the best we can do," I finish.
"It won't be forever. You know Sham. She seems unreliable, but she'll get it done."
Sham... That girl was the one who caught you when you fell screaming down through the atmosphere, like a comet. That little trap of hers, the Delta Field, turned out to have some use after all. She was always watching over you, even at the end.
I see her occasionally on my visits, floating like a cheerful fairy through the wards. You aren't the only one here, you see. Every so often, we pick up another discarded weapon with some life left in them. ...It's troublesome. Some of them have lost everything, except their grudges. One girl almost tried to strangle you for separating her from her husband. Sham calmed her down by applying what I believe was a figure four leg lock, followed by a session of sisterly bonding over romantic gossip. The ways of diplomacy are strange and foreign to me.
It must be said that there is sometimes a certain kind of tension between Sham and Yukihito. They argue about things that they both know have no meaning, as a proxy for the arguments they want and need to have. I can't tell if they're in love with each other, or both in love with you, or somewhere in between. All I know is that they have a great deal of passion, a great deal of it is shared, and it sometimes runs over into blazing rows about monogrammed soup spoons and the assumed superiority of vinyl records.
The sun has begun to set over the veranda; my tea, which I have politely drunk half of and will later dispose of the rest in the marigolds, has cooled. Yukihito, and I, and you; none of us is feeling particularly chatty. I rise, and sigh. One more day has passed in peace, and I am one day closer to... something. Anything. I have more time than I ever intended, ever wanted. I don't want to count the seconds anymore, to see opportunities and dangers in every one. I want time to blur together, in one seamless wave that carries me forward.
"About those extensions... Is there any particular reason you want non-combat ones?" Yukihito asks, as I shrug on my jacket. Sleeveless, of course. I pause, and consider my answer.
"None of your business," I reply.
He grins. Men like him are the most dangerous. He'll ask me again the next time I visit, and again, and again, and again, until he gets the answer. An answer he probably already knows.
Sora, our softly sleeping savior. When I looked at you one day, long ago, trussed up in your hospital bed and bathed in a sunlight you had earned but could not see, I thought you could use a hug. One way or another, I will make sure that there is one waiting for you.
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