pairing: udai tenma x tanaka saeko. akaashi is also there.
words: ~600
a short drabble for the three tensae stans i know: ai, hammie, and ME!!!!
Akaashi is at a loss of words, something he tries to mask with his ever-indifferent exterior. Of course the boots at the genkan wouldn’t be Tenma-san’s and of course, as Tenma is, he can’t have guests over. Not at seven in the morning. Not in this room of all places.
Tanaka Saeko is beaming at Akaashi, the sleepiness quite evident in her eyes. She’s dressed in her clothes from last night, seeming rather out-of-place in this apartment, sitting on Tenma’s bed.
“Keiji-kun!” she chirps, her eyes lighting up on seeing the editor. “I figured you were going to show up.” She laughs. “He’s been like that for an hour now.” She points one hand at the table corner of the room and uses the other to smoothen her slightly ruffled, blonde hair.
Akaashi’s gaze follows Saeko’s and there’s sudden movement as Tenma quickly jerks his head down, his hair falling over his face as he leans over his table, scribbling over a paper with his pen. Frantically, but focussed, he’s trying to meet his deadline. He’s quiet.
Too quiet.
“Ah,” Akaashi only manages to say, connecting every dot in the small, cramped room.
“Oh!” Saeko says, jumping up on her feet. “I should make breakfast! Would you like something, Keiji-kun?”
He snaps out of his momentary daze. He shakes his head and clears his throat. “I’m good,” he says. “Thank you, Tanaka-san.”
“Oh, come on! We both know he’s gonna take forever!” She walks over to Akaashi and places a hand on his shoulder. “Coffee sound good? I promise to not add sugar and milk!”
Akaashi eyes travel from Saeko, to Tenma, who has still kept his face hidden from Akaashi’s view with the help of his long, unkempt hair. A corner of Akaashi’s lips curl up.
"You know what?” he says, looking back at Saeko, his voice finally gaining some composure. “That'd be great, Tanaka-san." Akaashi says with an intonation which only people who've spent a considerable amount of time around the editor would recognise as hinting amusement. Tenma, hunched over his table, stiffens.
“Cool! I’ll be on it.” She flashes him a thumbs up and walks past him into the kitchen, leaving the editor and the mangaka in the room alone.
He takes in the rare silence in Tenma’s room and quietly walks over to the other side, sitting himself down on the couch. There is only the sound of a pen running over paper, and the occasional distant clatter from the kitchen accompanied by Saeko’s humming. Neither of them say anything for a good while.
A tense moment passes, then another. Then another. Akaashi then allows himself to breathe.
“Congratulations—”
“Shut up.”
The editor laughs lightly at Tenma’s words. He shrugs. “I’m just saying I’m happy—”
“Shut up.” Tenma still doesn’t look up and his hair is still covering his face, but Akaashi knows he’s incredibly flustered, so he decides not to push any further.
Despite their numerous differences, despite Tenma’s endless list of flaws, Akaashi finds himself feeling happy for the mangaka for once. Despite the fowl exchange of words they may have every now and then, he does see—dare he say it—a friend in this little gremlin man. It’s comforting to know that not everything about Udai Tenma’s life is awful, at least not in the moment.
His thoughts are cut off by Tenma whimpering under his breath at his table.
Akaashi sighs. Okay, maybe some things are still very wrong with his life.
What the hell, at least his delay has a solid reason this time.
“Tenma-san,” he says, “should I extend your deadline?”
“Please, Akaashi,” Tenma answers immediately and desperately, not even missing a fraction of a second. “Please.”
