Concept: Arima and Matsuri reading together meanwhile Yoshitoki is TRYING to get him to play outside 👀
With concept you meant ‘drabble’, yes? 👀 - @taubc | @fletschte | @daturida [ tags all the blogs since I don’t know who is online where ]
“…Not now.” The voice softly spoken somewhere from beneath layers of cranny on a large lounge in the middle of the Washuu estate, sounded nearly fading to disregard the urgings of the older male that had come around to get him - to get them - to follow out and along. For the sun was still high in the sky and all the more inviting to use the fresh air and last rays of warmth, before autumn, then winter would strike, and have them much needed stay hidden and closed away from all the ‘hardships’ of a world they sometimes so surely wanted to forget [ laid to rest, like bodies now entangled beneath heavy blankets ].
Arima himself could sure only smile. A faint little smirk behind his lecture that was the same as his companions, need-be to argue with his father’s sudden whims, and with the desires to drag both of them out for what he seemed to find entertainment [ and Kishou would have agreed, but found it far more amusing like this ].
He’s trying very hard, indeed. Sudden huff that follows the denial, the rise of arms, bracing against his sides, and a dutifully scolding look [ maybe a bit akin to 'pained’, if he were honest ] would edge itself on chiselled features. Perchance, at least for a bit, he would have to applaud his brother’s acting skills, to try and get his own son to leave that well-needed downtime from learning and training. To get Arima Kishou to accompany seemed like quite an accomplishment to behold [ but was none, he had always been compliant to Matsuri’s wishes ] and would be commented upon with a soft huff and the pleading eyes offering themselves in indignant ‘despair’. “But the weather is wonderful! We could play a game outside, like ball or tennis.” But how to untangle that little conglomerate of adolescents when they seemed so truly unwilling to move?
How to not regard the chuckle the young investigator would suddenly utter behind highly raised back of spine, with nothing but the mildly puzzled expression of feigned exasperation? It cracked in some way, that very need and desire to have them go out and unwind from mount of softness built for themselves. Both young had come back from training with one another, the very happening, by now, taking place every week, at least just twice.
And in comparison to the beginning? And since a while - Kishou would stay. Would stay behind due to an unspoken request enveloping them both, filling the halls as spacious rooms with another form of tranquillity so rarely found and received [ for how seldom was it not, that the boys had someone their age around - found themselves so truly understood—? ]. “We are comfortable.” A little bit colder now, a little harsher even. And the next feigned wave of disappointment would roll over the older man’s face, truly 'wounded’ - was he not? But couldn’t argue, that they seemed so truly pleasantly wrapped up.
Books in hands, they would be found to be the very same. A lecture taken out, to be 'experienced’ together, for before Chika had even entered the room even quiet murmurs of the unfolding story could be heard, now fallen quiet in the few precious seconds it would take to usher Matsuri’s father back out and have him leave them alone [ needed, needed, they wanted to go further, so it seems ]. For the young Reaper’s eyes solely stayed on this or that finely woven word revealing beneath smoke grey colour. He would not continue just yet, but couldn’t help the smirk. Couldn’t help the subconscious gesture of finally laying book opened flat upon his chest, glancing at the back and forth of son and father with mild amusement ever present. “Lazy, aren’t you?” The sound of displeasure, the face to match the very notion.
Of course, yet what would one not do, to get what was desired the most [ stubborn, they both were so truly stubborn ]. Kishou himself finally moved, twisted and turned a little bit when his incautious movement had upset a little, hidden someone. One that would draw his older brother’s attention, would have him raise an eyebrow in quizzical query. “And you, Kishou?” And even tho said movements were of stark contrast to the usual calm of the CCGs hope - he would ask, would inquire, would at least try to get him to obey [ for sure as much, his own son would as well ]. “I can’t at the moment, maybe later.” Mirthful nearly in his chiming voice.
So unlike him. If not before those he truly cares for. Truly enjoys a presence from that left him to be one and his own. “You can’t?” Finally to be enough. When a large hand would reach out to the softness of a large blanket, covering both youths whole and leaving them to find comfort on large piece of furniture, comfort they needed from aching, sore muscles and the heavy edge of sparring still in their bones. Arima would let him, would let him lift the veil to see that certain little someone curled up upon the young male’s form.
Half-asleep, near scolding in her looks with drowsy eyes to 'glare’ up at her father, as much as only possible. “Yes, I can’t. Maybe later.” Maybe later when they decided upon it, when the little girl that finds herself so truly 'upset’ with her sudden reveal, moves to be just a bit [ a little bit at least ] closer to her uncle offering warmth and solace.
Both, Matsuri and Kishou, hadn’t read to each other. But to Matsuri’s younger sister, Yoshiko, now barely wanting to let go, and being enough that her father would finally succumb. “Fine, fine, later then.” As stark of a sudden contrast his behaviour could unfold itself, he was still a man that found far too much pleasure in playing family with those he loved. So he would give himself defeated, at least for now.
