After several days of getting roughed up in some manner, Niikura would've thought that he would know better by now and actually take his own advice to play things safe to heart. But...old habits sure did die hard. And last night, well, he hadn't had much of a choice. Even though they had only known each other for a few days, Mike was his ally, and there was no way in hell he was losing him, even to the likes of Sesshoumaru.
There was of course the fact that Mike had somehow transformed into a giant-ass turtle last night (And he really hoped it had been Mike or else all of his bleeding would have been for nothing.), but he was hoping to clear that up in just a little bit. If he could manage to even get himself out of bed, for starters: he'd woken up in another one of those typical teenage moods where nothing short of the threat of starvation would get him to throw aside the covers.
The soldier who came to get him just had to use that threat, of course, so Niikura was finally persuaded to roll out of bed with a noticeable wince and wrestle with the ungodly combination of his hair and the stupid beret that they made them all wear. Something new was there on the brim this morning: a shiny pin- an award, just for him. He snorted before jamming the beret on over his spikes and heading to breakfast.
For once, he didn't pull a face while getting in line to receive his first of three bowls of pink gruel; no, he was too concerned with finding Mike- more specifically, finding that telltale missing arm that did not belong to a dog youkai who had tried to slice him to pieces last night because he'd gotten in his way, the moron.
...yes, he'd just called Sesshoumaru, Lord of the Western Lands and Half-Brother to the Protagonist of a Very Popular Manga a moron. But only in his head.
"C'mon, Mike-san, where are you...?" Niikura muttered anxiously under his breath as the line moved forward. God forbid the man was still a gigantic turtle.
no subject
There was of course the fact that Mike had somehow transformed into a giant-ass turtle last night (And he really hoped it had been Mike or else all of his bleeding would have been for nothing.), but he was hoping to clear that up in just a little bit. If he could manage to even get himself out of bed, for starters: he'd woken up in another one of those typical teenage moods where nothing short of the threat of starvation would get him to throw aside the covers.
The soldier who came to get him just had to use that threat, of course, so Niikura was finally persuaded to roll out of bed with a noticeable wince and wrestle with the ungodly combination of his hair and the stupid beret that they made them all wear. Something new was there on the brim this morning: a shiny pin- an award, just for him. He snorted before jamming the beret on over his spikes and heading to breakfast.
For once, he didn't pull a face while getting in line to receive his first of three bowls of pink gruel; no, he was too concerned with finding Mike- more specifically, finding that telltale missing arm that did not belong to a dog youkai who had tried to slice him to pieces last night because he'd gotten in his way, the moron.
...yes, he'd just called Sesshoumaru, Lord of the Western Lands and Half-Brother to the Protagonist of a Very Popular Manga a moron. But only in his head.
"C'mon, Mike-san, where are you...?" Niikura muttered anxiously under his breath as the line moved forward. God forbid the man was still a gigantic turtle.
[for Mike]