Chapter Text
Stars spattered across the void as the Challenger slowly pushed through, half adrift as the engine worked on its lowest power. Kuramochi yawned, stretching over the back of his chair and sighing as his spine gave a satisfying crack. The dim lights of the control panel blurred and smudged through the tears collecting in his eyes. He wiped them away before leaning over to adjust one of his figurines— video game characters playing out an epic battle across the top of the dashboard— when the door to the bridge opened with a hiss.
“Here to relieve me of bridge watch?” He asked, spinning around in his chair to face the visitor.
Chris laughed as the pilot pushed off with too much force, completing a full rotation before slowly coming to a halt on a slight angle. Kuramochi pushed himself straight and leaned into his palm, watching the vice-captain with bleary eyes. His eyes were red, probably from trying to rub the sleep away, and his hair looked haphazardly combed through.
“Go get some sleep,” Chris nodded, stepping up beside the chair to look over the dash.
“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Kuramochi groaned as he stood up, muscles stiff from hours of sitting in more or less the same position, and stumbled slightly on his first step. He shook out his leg, chasing the tingly sensation away as blood flow returned, and turned the chair towards Chris. “You shouldn’t run into any problems, radar’s clear and comms have been quiet.”
“Thank you.”
He sat down, propping an elbow up on the arm and resting his chin in his palm, and Kuramochi gave a brief wave as he shuffled to the door. It hissed open and there was a clatter as he stepped out onto the grated floor, before it hissed closed again.
The corridor was filled with the steady hum of the ship and clattering of the floor as he opened the hatch to the crew cabins.
“Mochi!” A hushed voice called.
Kuramochi’s brow furrowed; he pulled himself back up to look over the floor and watched Watanabe rushing through the kitchen. The engineer stopped for a second at the counter, grabbing an apple, before waving Kuramochi up. With a tired sigh, the pilot hauled himself completely out of the floor and sat on the edge of the hatch.
“It’s late man, why are you up?”
“It’s not that late,” Watanabe said, taking a bite out of his apple. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he continued. “Besides, she was making funny noises. Is that Miyuki up on the bridge?”
“Chris. And what kind of funny noises?”
“The engine just needs a new part, I can pick it up on Persephone but I wanted to let Miyuki know.”
“Then why are you telling me?”
“You asked.”
Nabe took another bite of his apple, as he and Kuramochi fell into a staring contest with Kuramochi glaring at him.
“Good night Nabe.”
“Night Mochi, see you at breakfast.”
“Go to bed!” Kuramochi called as Nabe ascended the stairs to the bridge and he descended the ladder to the crew cabins.
The hall of the crew cabin was much brighter than the corridor between the kitchen and the bridge. Instead of the dim orange lights lining the floor and roof, there were a few bright yellow ones built into the ceiling. It blinded him momentarily as he turned around. A few blinks later his eyes adjusted and he scowled, because at the far end of the hall there was movement. Very familiar, very annoying, movement.
At the end of the hall is the med bay, and through the window into the treatment room, Kuramochi watches Miyuki stumble around and rifle through drawers. I can just duck into my room , he thinks, just as Miyuki looks up and waves. The captain points at his side and mouths a request for help, and all Kuramochi can think is, I can just go to sleep .
With a reluctant sigh, he drags himself into the treatment room where Miyuki had removed his shirt and taken a seat on the reclined seat.
“Does anyone on this ship ever sleep?” He grumbled, opening the med kit that Miyuki had set out.
“My side woke me up, what’s your excuse?”
“Watching your baby ,” Miyuki rolled his eyes at the remark, “ I just switched with Chris for the night,” he brought over a heat patch, cracking it and securing it to the captain’s side, “then I ran into Nabe, then I came down here and found you slinking around like a raccoon.”
“Hey! It’s not slinking if it’s my ship.” Kuramochi went back to the counter, closing up the med kit and tucking it back onto a shelf under the counter, as Miyuki complained. “Why was Nabe up?”
“The ship-” he yawned, “is making funny noises, he says it’s nothing bad, just needs a new part that he’ll grab on Persephone.”
“Thanks.”
Kuramochi pulled a stool out and sat down across from Miyuki, leaning back on the counter and trying to ignore the sting in his eyes. The captain didn’t look much better than he and Chris, obviously having just woken up after what was probably a shitty sleep. Maybe it was time for a job or two on some kind of tropical planet, he certainly wouldn’t turn down a nice beach trip. Extended land leave sounded like a dream.
“So, what’s the plan once we get there?”
“Coach has a ferrying job lined up for us, nothing illegal, just an honest taxi job.”
“Nothing?” Kuramochi asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I mean we aren’t asking any questions, so we might be doing something illegal, but what’s new?”
Miyuki yawned, letting his head fall back onto the chair and looking up at the clock with a groan of frustration.
“Can-” Miyuki paused as if in thought, “can I just remove my ribs?” He asked, craning his neck to look at Kuramochi.
“I can go get the wrench,” he chuckled.
“You know what, on second thought I think I’ll just go see Chris.”
The captain carefully slid off the seat and headed towards the cargo bay, grabbing his shirt from Kuramochi as he passed. He waved at the pilot through one of the windows before disappearing down the hall on the long trek to the bridge.
Kuramochi didn’t often appreciate simple things on the ship— like the ladder into the crew area, or being able to reach across the dinner table and steal Zono’s food— but watching Miyuki take the long way around made him thankful for his full range of motion.
He would die before admitting he had marked three weeks from Miyuki’s injury on the pocket calendar in his room, or that they were not in fact okay carrying those heavy crates into the truck on their last job and that they hadn’t said anything so he would rest.
Keeping Miyuki Kazuya from work was like a full time job on its own, one that the crew of The Challenger had slowly gotten used to over a myriad of injuries.
Kuramochi jerked awake as his chin slipped off his palm and nearly smacked into the metal counter. It was clearly time for him to go to sleep.
As he approached the quarters, a soft rumbling filled the hallway— now that he thinks about it, it was there when he came down earlier too. Letting out a loud groan of frustrated exhaustion, he stopped in front of one of the doors and slammed his hand against it a few times. The snores abruptly stopped with a few quick snorts and confused mumbling.
“Quit snoring!” Kuramochi yelled.
“Just cover your ears!” Maezono called back before throwing something, probably his pillow, at the door.
Kuramochi hit the door one last time and crossed over to his room.
***
“-And that’s why we’re your best choice to get off this rock.”
Kuramochi rolled his eyes as Zono finished his sales pitch to a trio of young boys. They seemed sold on the pitch, but for some reason weren’t taking them up on it.
One of them had striking gold eyes, wearing overalls and a stained white shirt underneath, he probably did some sort of manual labor based on his build. The tallest of the group looked half asleep, wearing a tight blue long sleeve with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he was sweating profusely. Then there was Haruichi, the only one who had bothered to give his name; farmboy— Kuramochi would soon find out he’d hit the nail on the head with that nickname— had been stunned into silence by The Challenger, and lamp post wasn’t paying attention— Kuramochi momentarily realized he was sleeping standing up.
There was something about Haruichi that was familiar, but the pilot couldn’t put his finger on it.
He was the shortest of the group, with pink hair that covered his eyes and wearing the most appropriate outfit for someone on this desert rock: shorts and a white tank top under an open button up to protect him from the sun. Maybe it was the button up and hair making him look familiar, he looked almost like Ryou.
Kuramochi was snapped out of his reverie when farmboy spoke. Why was that boy so loud?
“Let’s take this one!”
“Eijun,” Haruichi hissed, “stop yelling.”
“We don’t ask questions,” Kuramochi finally said, finally putting together why Haruichi seemed so hesitant to join them. Really, Zono should have mentioned the no questions policy right at the start. “As long as you don’t bring Reavers,” Zono’s eyes widened in shock and Haruichi stiffened, “to our door, just give us a planet on the way to Whitefall and we’ll drop you at the door.”
A sharp backhanded slap landed on his side. He whipped his head around to chew Zono out, but teh weapons expert beat him to it.
“Why’d you mention Reavers? You scared the kid,” Zono hissed.
“That’s our rule isn’t it?”
“Ya but they're just kids.”
As the two descended into hushed bickering, Eijun leaned over to Haruichi.
“What’s a Reaver?”
With a gentle smile, Haruichi shook his head and answered, “Don’t worry about it.” Then turned back to the bickering men and cleared his throat. “When do we leave?”
“As soon as the Captain gets back, maybe a half hour, so don’t wander too far. Just need you to write your names and destination.”
With a sharp nod, Haruichi took the paper and pencil Zono offered and elbowed lamp post in the ribs. Kuramochi expected the boy to wake up with a loud snort, maybe get a little mad, and possibly fall over or stumble, but none of that happened. Instead there was a soft gasp as his eyes flew open with a start, he looked around frantically for a second before relaxing and taking the paper and pencil from Eijun.
Once they finished writing, lamp post handed the things back to Zono and the three headed back into the market. Before Zono could look it over, Kuramochi snatched the paper away and turned his back on him.
As Zono continued grabbing for the paper, Kuramochi read it over carefully.
Sawamura Eijun
Furuya Satoru
Haruichi
Haven
“Mochi! Give me the damn paper! I need to make sure it’s not out of the way,” Zono yelled, nearly hitting Kuramochi in the face with his flailing hands.
“It’s not out of our way, relax. They want off at Haven,” he shrugged, finally letting Zono snatch the slip back.
Zono grumbled about something, looking over the paper before his usual frown deepened. Kuramochi ignored this, instead crossing his arms behind his head and lounging back in his chair.
“Haven’s on the other side of the solar system,” Zono pointed out, tucking a knee up and resting his chin on his arm. “They’ll have to find a shuttle from Whitefall,” he looked off in the direction the trio had gone, “they might be better getting a different ride.”
“I’ll take them the rest of the way, bastard owes me some shore leave anyways.”
He could feel Zono’s eyes boring into him as the weapon’s expert tried to understand what he’d said.
“Giving up shoreleave to ferry a bunch of kids to Haven?” The boys jumped, Kuramochi had to bend awkwardly to look up at the Challenger's ramp, and turned to find Nabe wiping his hands of engine muck— finally joining them outside. “Who are you and what have you done to Kuramochi?”
Zono snickered as Kuramochi leveled the engineer with a glare.
“I’ve got some business there that I’ve been putting off, might as well get it over with.”
“And what business is that?” Zono asked, getting off his crate and slinging an arm around Kuramochi. He leaned most of his weight on the pilot, squishing the man between him and the shitty plastic chair he was lounging on.
“None of yours.”
The two fell into a silent stare down as Nabe headed back up the ramp to put his rag away. Just as he came back out, a teasing voice called out to them.
“Tea party’s over boys, pack it up.” Miyuki clapped a few times to grab their attention. “Get us any more passengers?”
“Just a party of three headed to Haven, Kuramochi here’s already offered to take them the rest of the way from Whitefall,” Zono snickered.
“Really, bailing on a job, are we?” Miyuki asked, slinging his left arm around the back of Kuramochi’s chair.
The pilot was now trapped between his two crewmates and his chair as Miyuki decided to join Zono’s teasing, a mocking grin settling on his face
“You still owe me shore leave you damn Tanuki,” he snapped, the stifling heat and stench of sweat bearing down on him, before seeming to relax and adding, “and I was thinking of inviting Chris too.”
The mocking grin fell from Miyuki’s face, being replaced by a more serious look.
“Ah, I’ll make sure we don’t need you two then.” He backed off and clapped his hands again. “Alright, let’s get this show going!”