Work Text:
The motorbike speeds along through the dirt paths of Sakurajima, endless pink petals dancing in the quiet wind. The trees are in full bloom this time of year, the fragrance floating through the air like gentle perfume. The food in the boxes remain undisturbed, Foie Gras holding them cautiously. Next to her is the ever-sleepy Escargot, who is holding his pillow tightly, eyes half open.
In the front, Double Scoop argues over directions while B-52 quietly drives, getting increasingly irritated by the siblings' incessant bickering and begging him to let one of them drive. Vodka watches it all, glass in hand. She takes a long drink, a deadpan expression. The ice clinks in the glass as she reaches for another bottle. "B-52, slow down a bit so I can pour this. I would rather not waste it." She shouts over the wind. B-52 grumbles, but slows down. He holds onto the handlebars, eyes narrowed.
"We're going to be late, Cocktail. And our dear Master Attendant will not be happy, nor will our customer." Sukiyaki's voice soon follows, the tone almost condescending and teasing. "Also, I'm getting hungry. Hey, Strawberry, pass me one of those cookies, will ya?"
"No, they're mine and you can't have any!" Strawberry replies, sticking out his tongue. Vanilla rolls his eyes and tugs at B-52. "Hey Mr. Cocktail!! Let me drive!!" He exclaims suddenly. Foie Gras sighs, watching as Escargot tosses and turns as much as he can, given the little room and his pillow.
B-52 becomes more and more annoyed, frustrated. The noise blurs together, a never ending ringing. He can't make out the individual words as the argumemts crescendo, filling the air like a heavy fog. He's slowly losing his temper, gritting his teeth.
"Absolutely not, Vanilla. You're like seven. And you have the temper of a child. You'd get us all killed! Sukiyaki, shut up or I will throw you off this damned bike! Strawberry, give him a cookie if it'll shut him up. Escargot, for fuck's sake you're shaking this entire contraption! Foie Gras, why did you insist on bringing him? These scooters are only meant to hold five-"
The scooter lets out a high pitched screech and grinds to a halt, jolting as it stops completely. White clouds quickly fill the air, hot steam seeping from various parts.
"Oh god." Sukiyaki mutters
"Fuck." B-52 curses under his breath.
"What's going on?" Escargot asks drowsily.
"My bottles- be careful!" Vodka hisses.
"Is the food safe?" Strawberry inquires.
"What happened?" Vanilla demands sharply.
"It was fate." Foie Gras whispers solemnly.
Dismounting from the bike, B-52 begins to check it over for damage. Foie Gras holds the boxes in her arms. Escargot curls up on his pillow, slowly drifting asleep again. Vodka recovers her stash of drinks, relieved to find that the bottles are intact. Sukiyaki hovers behind B-52, spewing an endless stream of questions. B-52 gives him a harsh, icy glare and the other backs away, falling silent. Double Scoop retrieves their shared pouch of cookies- some are whole, other merely crumbs.
Foie Gras sits down next to the sleeping food soul quietly. She moves some of his slightly messy blond hair out of his eyes. He stirs faintly as B-52 stands up.
"Repairs have been completed. Let's return to our mission."
"Wait." Sukiyaki holds up a hand as though he is directing traffic. "Not everyone goes this time. There are six of us, thanks to Foie Gras bringing Escargot. The motorbike is only meant to support five. Someone needs to stay behind. I vote Escargot."
"I second that." Vodka adds coldly. "All he does is sleep and complain of being drowsy. Plus his pillow takes up quite a bit of room."
"Thirded!" Vanilla chimes in.
"Fourthed!" Strawberry calls out. Vanilla looks at him, unamused.
"Fourthed isn't a word."
"Well it is now!"
"4 against 2. I guess we will leave Escargot behind, then." B-52 states, his tone indifferent and flat.
"I will stay behind with him." Foie Gras declares. The rest turn to look at her, expressions all variants of surprise. She crosses her arms defiantly, bracing for their counter. "If he is left alone, he will likely fall asleep. He may get attacked while he sleeps. I will stay with him so he will sleep safely." Her voice is firm, a stubborn note to it implying that she will not waver in her decision.
"If you insist, Foie Gras." B-52 replies, standing the bike back up. "Sukiyaki, Double Scoop, Vodka- let's go. We've wasted far too much time and are horribly behind schedule. Vanilla, you carry the boxes." Hopping onto the bike, the four drive away. Foie Gras watches them leave.
A soft sniffle startles her. Turning her head, she notices Escargot's wide eyes staring up at her, tears streaming down his face. "Escargot?"
"Am I as useless as they said? Am I really a burden to everyone?" He asks shakily, somewhat sitting upright. He wipes his eyes with a dangling sleeve. "I can't even defend myself, I'm always so sleepy. I'm not good company- I'm so boring. Why in Tierra would you want to stay with me?"
"I am staying with you because I do not want you to get hurt. Not when I can prevent it. Fate is unchangeable, but I will not let you suffer. And perhaps I can change it, with what I do now in this moment. You are not useless. You're just different." She whispers, letting Escargot curl up against her.
"Miss Foie Gras, would you like to get some rest as well? You look like you could use it."
"Perhaps later, when I know we are not in danger. Sleep well, Escargot."
The blond boy smiles and drifts asleep again. He wakes up to find Foie Gras covered in Fallen Angel remains. She gives him a rare, quiet smile.
"Hello, Escargot. Sleep well?"
He nods, shifting closer. "I'm sorry for making you fight so long on my behalf. I owe you greatly." He murmurs. She shakes her head.
"I do not wish for repayment, only for your safety. Let us return to the restaurant so we can rest properly." She holds out her hand.
He grasps it softly and lets her lead him home.
"Thank you, Miss Foie Gras."
"You're welcome, Escargot. Let us now get some rest. We both need it and you deserve it."
They sleep the day away, Foie Gras reassuring him that fate and karma will come for the other four.
"They will pay. You'll see."
"Mm... Alright, Miss."