YURI SHIPPING OLYMPICS 2024 - BONUS ROUND 7

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For this round, we want to see prompts that are based on settings or locations! For your prompts, please provide a location or setting. It can be as specific or as abstract as you want, and can be in any medium you prefer!

POINTS - BONUS ROUNDS
For prompts: 10 points each (maximum of 150 prompt points per team per round)
For fills:
First 4 fills by any member of your team: 100 points each
Fills 5-10: 50 points each
Fills 11-20: 40 points each
Fills 21-50: 30 points each
Fills 51+: 25 points each

Comments

FILL: Team Kittyuri

[missiletoe]

Ship: Michimiya/Aihara from Haikyuu!!

say hello to tragic comphet yuri... in my notes i have written WHEN YOU WAKE UP NEXT TO HIM IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT--

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Aihara rolls the comm between her frozen fingers, skin gripping the metal. Time for her favorite part of the day.

“Moshi-moshi?” Michimiya’s voice rings out cheerfully through the headphones. Aihara grins at the sound and gives her chair a little twirl.

“Hiya, Yui-chan,” she chirps back. Michimiya’s resounding sigh is staticky across the line.

“Enough with that, Aihara-san!” she says, indignant. “I told you to call me Michimiya.”

“Sure, sure, Yui,” Aihara replies, just to get a rise out of her. She’s only ever seen her badge photo in the military databases but she can imagine her pout as she grumbles into the mic.

There’s not much entertainment though in the middle-of-nowhere-Antarctica. Aihara had taken the job for the pay and the complementary housing–rent is a killer nowadays–but the boredom and the isolation eats away at her some days. Most days.

“Anything new to report, Aihara-san?” Michimiya asks, ever the picture of perfect corporate policy. Aihara sighs loudly and exaggeratedly into the mic in response.

“Nothing but snow, Michimiya-san,” she says, glancing out the window. “Snow, snow and more snow.”

“Noted,” Michimiya replies drily and she hears the clacking of a keyboard on the other end.

“Tell me about that guy from last time,” Aihara says, kicking her feet up on the desk. It’ll do nothing but invite trouble but Aihara always finds entertainment in needling Michimiya, even if she’s the one left bleeding at the end of the day.

“S-S-Sawamura-kun?” Michimiya squeaks, barely able to get the name out. Aihara finds her stammering endearing.

“Your childhood friend,” she supplies helpfully. “Isn’t he returning from the war today or something?”

“You remembered,” Michimiya gawks and Aihara rolls her eyes. There’s nothing else in her brain so there’s more than enough free memory up there and besides, she remembers everything about Michimiya.

“Of course,” she laughs into the mic and then Michimiya is off, talking about her beloved Sawamura-kun and how he’s so reliable, Aihara, you don’t even understand and he has just the nicest biceps and also he’s really nice, like one time he offered to help her up after she fell in high school, isn’t that just the sweetest thing ever?

“A-A-And I’m finally going to ask him out today when he comes back!” Michimiya practically yells into the mic. Aihara raises one eyebrow at that.

Sawamura-kun sounds like the most basic-ass, cookie-cutter boy-next-door Aihara has ever heard of. Not that she’d ever tell any of this to Michimiya and shatter her starry-eyed dreams.

But she bets that Sawamura-kun doesn’t call her half as frequently as she does–even if it is technically for business reasons–and she bets that Sawamura-kun doesn’t know how to get a rise out of Michimiya or pry a laugh from her lips when she’s feeling particularly down. She flexes her forearms in the glass pane and thinks she could take any Sawamura-kun down in an arm wrestle.

“I hope everything works out for you two,” Aihara grinds out between her teeth because at the end of the day, Sawamura-kun is Michimiya’s beloved since childhood, is a fully-fleshed person across the globe and Aihara is little more than her work pen pal.

“Thank you,” Michimiya mumbles before she takes a deep breath. “Mao-chan!”

Aihara blinks, stunned, before letting loose a loud laugh.

“Thank you too, Yui-chan.”

“For what?”

“For making my day a little brighter,” Aihara says, grinning. She picks up a loose pad at her desk, doodling little hearts onto the front like a grade-schooler. “Now don’t you have a date you’re about to be late for?”

“Ack!” Michimiya squeaks, checking the time. “You’re right. Gotta go, I’ll check in tomorrow!”

She ends the transmission with a click and Aihara is left at the end of the line with nothing but the snow and the silence to keep her company.