Do you know whose womb evacuation it is? It’s MIMA SOUICHIROU ‼️‼️‼️ I often think of him when I’m up to bat; I hope he’s surrounded by peace, plants, and friends today 🤍🪴✨ #daiyanoace #mimasouichirou

Souichirou’s mouth twists in a grimace as he sits down, eyes darting across the vanity for something to occupy his hands. The lights around the mirror spread warm light across the countertop, illuminating the steel cups and hollow ball, and sure, he supposes. Something to keep his hands busy instead of his mind. The sleight of hand is the easy part. He mimics placing a ball of empty air under the last cup as he shuffles them around, and slips the real ball deftly under to reveal it the next second. He’s not much for facial expressions, but he does try to open his mouth in faux surprise and widen his eyes, as he’s seen the head magician do. It’s the hardest part of magic for him, which is ironic, considering what he’s been working on. Glancing over his shoulder, he listens for the telltale sound of the car. Nothing yet, which means the magician and his wife are still out.

It can’t hurt to practice a little. Standing, he focuses on the nape of his neck, squeezing his eyes shut to concentrate. The warm prickle is familiar, spreading along the tops of his shoulders and down his arms. He imagines invisible threads sewn in along the padded suit jacket, lifting him higher, higher. The weightlessness swoops in his stomach, until it’s only the tips of his leather shoes that touch the floor. He tugs harder, the wrench in his navel spiraling inward, lifts his arms to visual it better like an orchestra conductor, willing himself higher, higher. His hair brushes the top of the tent now, the vanity and small wardrobe tiny below him as he opens his eyes slowly.

Now then, an experiment. His left hand stretches toward the steel cups from earlier. If he concentrates, he can split the consciousness of his magic in two, one part retained to keep his body aloft and one part extending to lift the cup in the air, hovering over the vanity. It’s a more exhausting effort to split that half of it into three, but he grits his teeth, his gut wrenching to near nausea as the other two cups rise to be level with the first. He’d done it. It’s taken weeks of focused, secretive study, but he’d done it. Letting the cups lower again, he tries with various objects in the room—the chair he’d been sitting on, the vanity itself, the wardrobe. The wrenching feeling has mellowed out into the background as he laughs, delighted and wondrous with no one to hear. Outside, the roaring of the car engine comes to a stop.

Hurriedly, he lowers himself back to the earth, disoriented as he relinquishes his hold. Striding over to the entrance flap, he peeks outside to see that the magician has already retired to his own tent, but his wife is still stepping out of the car. She glances over with a slight look of surprise to see him standing there watching her, so he gives a tentative wave, which she returns with a grateful smile. He can’t see her bruises from here, but he remembers the righteous feeling of anger from when he’d first seen them. All of this preparation is for her. She’d begged him not to do anything about the situation, but he can’t stand by and watch that man hurt her repeatedly when she’s treated Souichirou with all the care and tenderness she would a son. Soon, he’ll put this magic to its ultimate use.

🌿 44 — #mimasouichirou
🌿 magic by coldplay
🌿 for @fractionallyfox.bsky.social
🌿 #sunwrites #daiyanoace

#daiyanoace #daiyanoemergency #mimasouichirou #hongoumasamune #sunwrites

Sharing from plant Mima for #wipwed 🪴🌿

#ficwip #daiyanoace #mimasouichirou 🍀

“And I’m simply saying that not only would it give you something more than bare walls to look at, but it might also help with sticking to some routines.” Next to him, Enjou’s voice from C shift catches his attention as he speaks in a low voice colored with what Souichirou identifies as mild frustration. He’s addressing the man next to him with short spiky hair that fades a bit, close-shaven around his ears. Hongou Masamune, Souichirou’s brief memory search offers. Souichirou has never heard anyone speak to him like Enjou is—familiar enough to nag at him, not shying away from his sullen scowl and frankly intimidating aura. Hongou, however, seems wholly unimpressed. “You’re seriously being pissy about a fucking plant that’s going to die anyway.”

Souichirou can feel his ears physically perking up. A plant? If he’s following the thread of conversation correctly, Enjou wants Hongou to start decorating his home, presumably, and has suggested a plant to start.  This feels too good to be true. “You don’t know that until you actually try,” Enjou is saying, and Hongou is about to retort when Souichirou cuts in. “Excuse me.” Both of their heads swivel toward him, one in surprise and one in annoyance. There’s a tiny part of Souichirou’s brain that wants to backtrack at the intensity of it, but he’s made it this far. 

“I couldn’t help but to overhear your conversation, and I have a proposition that would also benefit me. Regarding the plant, I mean.” The two of them stare at him. Souichirou stares back, wondering if he should continue. “I mean that I would like to offer you a free plant,” he rushes on. “There would be no obligation to return it to me. I would provide detailed instructions on plant care, provided that you test run a form that I plan to make available to fire station employees. The trade is that you get a plant that is curated to your needs and capability, while I get feedback on my plant adoption intake form, and a preview from an unbiased outside party before anyone else sees it. A mutually beneficial arrangement.”

The people (one person) have spoken, so here’s a bit of plant mima for you 🪴🌿

#wipwednesday #wipwed #wip #daiyanoace #mimasouichirou #hongoumasamune #enjourenji