Soleil || This life is full of happiness if you look! @mangosugarluv - Tumblr Blog

|| FROM HONEST PORES WE BLEED FUCKING SUNSHINE || CHAPTER 4

[Daisuke x OC]

~Flimsy dining chairs leaned in tandem with the drowsy duo. If they fell into each other an inch more, surely they’d both crash to the ground. But Luci's inconsequential musings urged Daisuke to hold fast. Like any second now, she could float away and relinquish to the endless space that cradled them. ~ To Aid === To complete an act of assistance that facilitates progress or makes a task easier for another person or group. Mainly useful for making sure no one can say NOTHING was done...

AN: OH MY GOODNESS. I SAID I WASN'T GONNA TAKE A MONTH THIS TIME AND I TOOK THREE?????? sfhbwirhgn I'm so sorry AND ITS NOT EVEN SUPER LONG IM DOUBLE SORRY :0 To the seven people reading this thank you so much for coming back. I seriously super appreciate it because I love this fic so much. I'm SOOO happy I finally got to finish this chapter, its one of my favs. And I'm especially happy with the second half because I got to write something more Daisuke focused. I love bro so much and his brain fascinates me hehehe. Pls come back soon. <3 Love you all! And don’t forget to try reading on AO3!!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Otherwise, chapter starts below the cut!🌺🍋

SMALL CONTENT WARNING- Some more detailed description of Curly post crash and depictions of religious trauma/guilt. It's all nothing crazy but I always feel bad not saying anything in advance. <3

IMAGES FROM PINTEREST

CHAPTER 4- with intensity and care, soft and uncalloused

2 months after the crash

The cross Luci once clung to in the depths of her pocket had grown to be a vice over time.

An anchor, weighing down her pastel boots, heavy like a sack of bricks.

A sickening safety, a burden that bound. But if her rosary had been lost for weeks now, why did she still feel it’s miserable mass sticking to her skin?

She never considered herself a true follower, as much as she wanted to.

A disgrace in the name of who her family claimed to be the lord.

No matter how many Sundays she spent sitting in her favorite pew, she searched the eyes of every marble statue, and couldn’t find anything but stone.

Yet here she was years later, praying.

To an eye that finally peered back at her.

Every so often, its shiny blue pupil would twitch like it was desperate to blink. Crusted tears built up for days brimming the border between vision and exposed muscle in a woeful ring of yellow.

She let her own eyes open and her chin rise, to finally gaze upon the mess the subject had created for himself.

“Hi Captain…” Her voice held certainty but her bottom lip quivered.

A mess of charred flesh and blood exposed to the confining med bay air, held together with wet bandages and pulled apart again by the hollow heave of his chest.

“I don’t have my rosary or anything but I thought I’d give it a shot anyway. Sorry.”

She found herself drifting to the second gurney, separated from Curly's unrelenting gaze by a teal curtain. Releasing a quiet exhale she took a seat and wrapped an arm around one of her knees.

“I don’t like praying. I never have. It just kind of feels like I’m talking to nobody. But I don’t really know what else to do right now. I know complaining isn’t really aiding the situation either.”

(To Aid ~~~ Support offered in the form of tools, guidance, or manpower to help meet a specific goal or overcome an obstacle.)

Her fingers drifted to her empty pocket, out of the corner of his eye Curly could catch a glimpse of Luci swinging her foot.

“There’s only one other time where I’ve really needed it. During liftoffs. Whenever my family and I went on planes back home my grandmother would hold her beads between her fingers during takeoff and pray for our safe passage . She knew I hated flying and turbulence and all that. It’d always put me at ease I guess y’know? Maybe I didn’t believe in god but I believed in her.”

She knew she probably sounded ridiculous droning on and on, even when she was praying, at least she only voiced her thoughts in her head. Though despite being plagued with embarrassment, she couldn’t keep her words from spilling out.

It was almost identical to that mellow feeling she bathed in when talking to Daisuke.

But this one felt a bit more one sided.

Could Curly even hear her?

Maybe that's why talking like this felt just as easy, cold and clammy, but easy nonetheless.

“She gave me my pretty pink rosary when she first found out I’d be working in space haha. We both just kind of assumed space freights would be just like planes. She wouldn’t be up here to pray for me so she insisted I take care of myself and keep praying once we broke the atmosphere. It’s a little silly but it keeps me from hyperventilating and stuff… I lost it before we crashed though, so I haven’t been able to find it.”

No response.

Just like any other prayer.

The funny thing about that though, was that she never had to listen to God's breaths, whistling and wheezing; hanging on by a thread.

But much like God, Curly could see everything if she so much as came out from behind the corner.

Her own breath began to quicken in that familiar burning stagger, alongside her racing thoughts.

Before she knew it her words were sprinting to win the race against her stuttering inhales.

“Hey Captain?"

Forgive me father for I have sinned.

“Do you remember last year's haul? You had that Rubix cube that went missing?” she gulped at the very memory.

“Well um. I’m the one who took it from your room. And I’m really really sorry. I don’t even really know why I took it looking back.

I was super bored and I wanted to see if I could actually solve it? You’d been using it all week and you still only had one side finished so I wanted to try…

I was planning to give it back! I swear a-and like I know I shouldn't have gone into your room, I figured your door would have a lock at least to stop me...

but it didn’t so I just went in- Oh my god, I’m so sorry this is so fucked up. I didn’t even finish it because Anya found out and she told me it was a code violation

and I cried all night. I just- I'm so sorry Captain. I think I just wanted to know what it was like…if I just didn’t ask for it. If I just took it.

I know I could’ve asked you to borrow it but I guess I wanted to know what it felt like doing something…i dunno wrong? Just because I wanted to.

And I didn’t give it back to you because I knew I’d get in trouble so I waited until we were back home and I gave it to my little sister.

And like- I didn’t even tell you. You never found out and we just moved on.

But I still lay awake sometimes and wonder if you’ll figure out where it went.

I’m so horrible, I’m so sorry captain-”

A jolt ran through her body when a careful hand set itself on her shoulder, allowing her head to rise, and gaze back into Anya’s concerned stare.

“Are you alright?” She asked, tone just as heavy as her down turned brow.

She knew the real answer, and she also knew the answer Luci would choose, but she’d ask anyway.

The young girl was quick to act, a swift swipe of a finger under her eye was enough to do the job just fine. Her pupils were still encircled by red but at least her cheeks weren’t sticky.

“I’m fine. Sorry.” Luci grinned. Cracked, stiff, and just recognizable enough.

Anya shook her head, keeping a hand planted in crook of her neck.

“It’s alright don’t worry about it.” she replied blankly looking back at Curly. “How’s he looking? Sorry I was…occupied.”

Luci let her head peek past the teal divider, “No better but no worse…I think he tried to say something to me earlier. I couldn’t tell what though.” She shakily rose to her feet again, joining at Anya’s side.

“You didn’t happen to give him anything yet did you?” Anya bit down on the flesh behind her chin as both of them looked at the remaining amber bottles that now decorated their desk.

A sniffle punctuated Luci’s reply. “Oh, not yet, I forgot. I’m sorry.”

Anya knew she was sorry, she always was.

A pathetic groan bubbled from Curly’s teeth, seared through the room in a familiar echo. Both women cringed at the sound. Luci awkwardly glanced around to avoid any eye contact with his pained state. Anya took a step towards the gurney, parting her lips to answer before the med bay door opened once more.

...

Jimmy brushed past Luci’s shoulder like a gust of wind simply passing through, left with her only gazing at his back.

Thinking back to earlier, she felt her reluctance start to swallow her again. She drifted from beside Anya to behind her, while their newly self appointed captain naturally took the empty place the assistant left for him. He cleared his throat, awkwardly silencing any other attempt to speak.

“How’s he doing?”

2 months before the crash

Throughout the ever-blurring years of Daisuke’s life,

he found himself consistently and vehemently wanting.

A state so endless and perpetual.

Whether he was a hyperactive kid begging his parents for something from Toys ‘R’ Us, or an anxious tween digging under his fingernails at the thought that just maybe he’d get to pitch that day during

practice. And he wouldn’t lie to himself; often his desires were fulfilled.

Back when wanting was a simple thing.

He couldn’t put a finger on when it started, but sometime after his high school graduation, the wanting grew stagnant.

Of course, he’d always know what he liked and what made him happy.

He liked tacky secondhand shirts, loaded fries, and trips to Hawaii.

He liked baseball, raunchy comedy movies, small dogs, and that saltwater taffy from the boardwalk that sticks to your palms.

He liked listening to music that came out long before his time and playing video games that could be put on a split screen so it would at least look like he was doing something productive.

He liked lounging in bed with a pen and paper despite the ugly scribbles that would manifest on the pages where his homework should be.

He liked shooting his shot with girls in cool outfits, even with the notion he’d never actually see them again afterwards. And he liked when his friends picked up his spirits after the fallout.

Now suddenly the things he’d always liked and wanted seemed inconsequential, so insignificant.

The wanting had turned into accepting, going through the motions of completion and possible progression, but not much more than a hope or aspiration.

But if those were the things that made him happy, and he couldn’t think of much else, then maybe those simple desires were truly all he wanted.

Right?

“When you reach a certain age you’ll start to want different things.”

That’s what his dad told him a few years ago, at least; Daisuke thought he’d understand it by now.

If his parents were right and there’s something to want here, compressed into a buzzing body of machinery enveloped by the vacuum of space, surely he’d find it.

Until then he’d do just what he always did; shoot his shot.

There were no thrift stores or small dogs or loaded fries on the Tulpar, but damn it there were pipes in the cockpit beggin’ to be tightened so quit thinkin’ with your dick-

Or however Swansea put it, because that's a man who seemed to know what he wanted.

Perhaps a similar path was paved for him, all he had to do was get up early every morning to get those pipes back into shape until it killed him.

No matter how much he just didn’t want to.

Luci came to visit him in the cockpit once before the rest of the crew awoke, donning her gray sweater and a sleepy smile. She sat down and asked if any of those pipes lining the walls actually felt loose or if

Swansea just needed to keep him out of his hair.

Daisuke hadn’t considered that so he simply shrugged.

He always knew she didn’t like Swansea, and her demeanor would fall a little whenever he asked her why.

He figured it wasn’t worth it pushing her past the usual, “You just wouldn’t get it Daisuke.”

He couldn’t think of any reason he wouldn’t though. Swansea was a gruff old guy who spoke his mind absent of censorship.

Nobody onboard particularly loved the guy.

So what was there to not get?

“I can’t blame him if he’s just made it up. I get it, he’s not crazy about being stuck with a spud like me. But maybe he’s actually tryin’ to teach me something! Y’know I’ll bet I could pursue a career in bolt tightening.”

Luci gifted him a reserved smile, easing back to lean against the cabinet, “Haha, Maybe.”

“How much do bolt tighteners make? And do you think they get paid time off?” Daisuke pondered setting his wrench beside his head.

“Well I don’t think there's actually a job for like…one guy tightening pipes.”

“Uh yeah there is?” he sat up from his position on the floor. “They’re called plumbers?”

He was serious, but she laughed like it was a joke.

It never felt like she was laughing at him, rather laughing because of him.

Laughing for him even.

Now that Daisuke was level with her, he could see the square imprints the seams of her sleepmask had left on her forehead and cheeks. They melded into endeared curves when she smiled down at her socks.

“Aw man. Don’t be a plumber Daisuke. You can do better than that.”

Luci had been generally kind to everyone he’d met onboard so far, regardless of what she received in return, but Daisuke could always somewhat tell if she was lying.

Sometimes when she talked about her mom she’d laugh a little too much and too loud.

Or if she shut her notebook that firmly when he peeked over her shoulder, she probably wasn’t "writing a to-do list for later.”

This didn’t seem like one of those times.

The natural scrunch under her eyes and the comfortable slouch of her shoulders gave it away.

She was being wholeheartedly honest.

“And you don’t have to stay in this field unless you want to. You could really do whatever you want!”

Daisuke’s fingers tightened around the rusting wrench handle as she spoke, his blurry eyes reflected in the pipe below bored back at him.

He almost asked her if she really meant what she initially said. He knew she was being truthful but he wanted to hear it right from her lips.

Some sort of confirmation that her words held any sense of belief.

The very concept that she had a shred of faith in his future, or even in just him.

He would like that.

He wanted that.

Daisuke bit down on his own resistance, the question never leaving the gap between his front teeth.

If he let her know how much her simple encouragement came across as a profession to him that’d just be embarrassing.

He remembered Luci telling him an uncertain amount of nights ago, that she had been in school for a year and a half before she was certified and got a job for Pony Express.

She lasted far longer than he ever did.

She was smarter than he ever was, when placed on his own scale at least.

And in the aftermath of all of it, she didn’t seem tainted or tired at all.

So if she believed in him, even just a sliver, he had no reason not to do the same for himself right?

And maybe one day, he’d have something to show for it.

Something to let her know how much her bits and pieces of hope meant to him.

Something that would make her smile at him,

just as wide as when she was alone in the corner listening to her CDs,

or as bright as when she got to wrap her arms around Anya's tall frame at the end of the day,

Or as genuine when she finally got to talk to him about the color pink or cheesy music or strawberry crepes, or poetry he didn’t understand; all of the things she liked.

Something that would let her know that Daisuke could be not only anything he wanted,

but anything that she needed.

…

He’d wait until he knew some more intelligent sounding words to confess something like that though.

“Okay but…ladies like plumbers.” He said, sealed with an unserious grin.

Luci sighed, “Not real plumbers. You’re thinking of uh, Inappropriate plumbers.”

Daisuke’s laugh wavered, as he rubbed at the bottom of his chin, unintentionally staining his caramel skin with black grease.

Here he was again, shooting his shot.

For the first out of a hundred times, he felt a twinge of doubt.

“Well would you go for me if I was a plumber? ...an appropriate one?”

A crinkle grew on the bridge of Luci’s nose. Not disgusted, just dumbfounded.

“...I don’t think I should answer that. You’re gonna make fun of me no matter what I say.” she sputtered, awkwardly glancing to the control board.

Doubt very quickly molded into keen enthusiasm.

“So, like, is that like a yeah? Or a maybe? or a no?” He asked, it seemed almost as if even the fluffy tufts at the bottom of his hair perked up.

She should’ve known that not giving a clear answer was probably worse, Luci thought to herself already nervously grinding her fingernails underneath each other.

Daisuke proceeded to ramble despite her endless fidgeting, “Okok. Just like, imagine me. Y’know, a plumber. Doin’ my plumbing. How would you rate me out of 10?” he continuously shook his hands in front of her.

Swallowing a lump of pride in her throat she finally exhaled, casually gripping one of his wrists to halt their erratic motions. “Maybe like…an 8? I feel like you’d be nice to clients…”

“Hell yeah! I’d be like the most considerate plumber EVER-”

The two of them each collectively let out a shriek when a series of roaring knocks barrelled from the cockpit door.

The weight of its fist was familiar to Daisuke, so he only exhaled in relief while Luci clutched her collar to catch her breath.

The door finally swung open, a gust of air bursting from where Swansea stood.

“The hell are you two doin’ up this damn early?!”

Luci instinctively shifted a few inches away from where Daisuke sat, but there was really no escaping the berating at this point

“I’m uh, fixing the pipes you told me about last night!”

“The day screen ain’t even lit yet. I can hear your yammering from all the way upstairs.”

They didn't dare point out the man's hypocrisy. The empty coffee mug hugged in Swansea’s clenched fist already answered their question as to why he was sacrificing one of his five sleeping hours as well.

Daisuke looked to the girl beside him, attempting to compose himself, “Well maybe you only heard us cause it’s super quiet this early. Heh.” he chuckled, pinching and fluttering the hem of his shirt.

Swansea squinted at his intern, unimpressed. “Unbelievable. Was your mother doing fuckin' backflips while pushing you out?”

“Well actually I was a C-section baby!” Daisuke beamed.

“Oh stuff it wouldja?” The man grumbled through gritted teeth before turning his stone gaze to eyes that darted all around the cockpit. “And you. If yer’ gonna be wide awake at the asscrack of dawn you might as well be waiting for that rickety elbow of a woman up in medical stead’ of slummin’ around.”

By the time Daisuke glanced back to see her reaction she had already stood up stiffly, leaving him down on the floor. She murmured a fuzzy ‘sorry’ before she disappeared out the door, the sound of her boots thumping melodically, swirling through the metal walls of the hallway.

Guilt panged within Daisuke’s chest, maybe he didn’t understand the full extent as to why she didn’t like his boss but he still held sympathy for her discomfort.

Her distress was the last thing he wanted.

Swansea didn't avert his back to him until she was completely out of sight.

“You’re telling me you two were just tightenen’ bolts down here?” he asked gruffly.

Daisuke sighed, still peering out the doorway.

“Yessir.”

One day he'd figure out what he wanted, but for now at least he found something else in the world that he liked.

~~~~~~~~~

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