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Language:
English
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Published:
2014-03-24
Updated:
2014-03-24
Words:
1,557
Chapters:
1/?
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4
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74
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First Train Home

Summary:

Save your files or give your tunoya sandwich.

Notes:

*Edited (3/18): Just to let everyone know that I did a few tweaks in some parts of this fic so there's really nothing major on the changes. (Sigh, I really need to work on this but I don't have it in me to continue for this pairing.)

Chapter 1: Monday Tunoya Special

Chapter Text

The metro train passed in high speed, going through its tracks with a screech at the start of morning rush hour. People got off from their chosen stop in a quick hustle while being preoccupied by their phone calls and various musical gadgets. Sometimes he wondered if there were those who felt intimidated by his slick appearance- from his clean-cut hair pulled back downward with the aid of a splotch of hair gel down to his sharply-looking business suit and polished leather shoes- as he felt eyes on him. However, he dismissed the onlookers with a sip from the cup of coffee which he held.

The favored aroma of brewed caffeine wafted through his nose as he brought the cup to his lips. Maybe the next time he’d receive a stack from work, he’ll make sure the job would be done earlier rather than on a last minute. His fault for not catching any good sleep from the previous week since he got distracted in watching late evening movie marathons with his co-worker. He then eagerly gulped the remaining contents, getting a taste of the hot flavor helps even if it's only to keep his eyes wide open for a little while as he makes his way to work.

There wasn’t anything unusual, according from today’s news, but expect a jam-packed traffic in the farthest part of downtown. Lucky enough that he lived close-by the public station, otherwise not owning a car would become a problem in commuting. He stood by the platform, feeling under his feet the slow vibrations of the next train. An announcement from the speakers finally called out for its incoming arrival.

His phone suddenly rang from his pocket when he disposed the half-empty cup at a nearby bin. He reluctantly pressed answer after he checked the contact number displayed on screen, then a thunderous voice managed to cut his opportunity to respond first.

Yo, Nishinoya!" His caller greeted. He saw the train already shifted down to a stop in its tracks. "Already here at the hive. Where you at, little beeman?

"I’m trying to get on my ride. Hold on man," Nishinoya said, laughing off the amusement at the given nickname. He pushed past the people as he approached the doors opening automatically, then hurriedly stepped inside before the panels would close. Upon relief, he sighed once he drew his attention back to his phone. "I really do hate Mondays."

He heard a brief chuckle from the other line, almost in agreement with him. “I hear ya. Taking the train can sometimes be a pain in the ass," He fumbled his phone over his other side, grabbing for one of the handles. "Why do you have to go through all the trouble in coming to work so early, though? I mean, your place’s like a good walking-distance, bro." The train hasn’t moved yet as Nishinoya took the time to watch the people outside while he stood in front of the glass pane.

"Unlike you, Tanaka, I'm obliged to and I pray that I wouldn't make Kiyoko-san be mad at me if it weren't for someone who thought barging in my apartment on such a late notice a brilliant idea,” Nishinoya replied, practically mumbling to himself. On weekdays, he always had to deal with the morning crowd. Being ambushed by shoulders bumping and sometimes large feet accidentally stomping against his without even apologizing. He hated it. And to his sheer defense, it isn't because of his short height. “I just don't like becoming sardine’d every Monday.”

You mean, you become TuNoya sandwich special every Monday.” Tanaka corrected for him.

“Ha, that's a laugh,” Nishinoya muttered over his phone. As if his friend was deliberate enough to prepare a long script of instant jokes. “you know that I hate tuna, not to mention those ridiculous lame-ass pun of yours.”

“Stop! Wait!!”

Before he’d listen to what Tanaka had to say next, Nishinoya took a quick glance at the platform. For a moment, he thought the frantic cry came from Tanaka’s end until he saw the sight of bright orange coming up from the steps. He was surprised that the kid was able to perform a quick high jump over the turnstiles, then hurried his way through the crowd to get inside the train.

Apparently, the doors closed by itself before the boy, with the ginger hair, could make it to the passenger car where Nishinoya was. It seemed that he was tired, yet still has enough willpower to catch on his breath from the other side.

Nishinoya blinked back at a pair of innocent ones. The person was staring right back at him, strange enough in leaving Nishinoya the impression of a crushed look from a puppy at some pet store’s window, with his amber eyes. Nishinoya shuffled his feet when the train moved, while his gaze stuck in contact at the teen’s. Even if the train passed farther away from the platform, he could still see the worn black jacket and orange hair.

"Sucks for him." He drifted out of his daze, holding on the train’s handle more tightly.

For who?

Crap. He’d forgotten that he was still on the line with Tanaka. “Just a wild ginger munchkin who missed their ride today.”

Tanaka scoffed an ‘aww’, then continued in a tease. “Tough luck. Maybe you should wait for her next time then. As the gentleman you are, Yuu." Nishinoya figured Tanaka must have misheard his previous statement.


It took around thirty to forty minutes of train ride, ten-minute brisk walk, and a short elevator ride to the fourth floor before Nishinoya arrived at his office stall. His working space was rather spacious, not that small but enough for him to work around his desk. The computer desk he owned was usually cluttered, either with bits of papers, office supplies or crumbs of his leftover homemade lunch. Because of the unbelievable mess, he’d get the usual scolding by the undivided attention of his officemates who kept on insisting that Nishinoya should consider in cleaning up the place. He’d sometimes get annoyed when people minded their business more in his, except for the ones he was personally attached to.

“Uhm, Nishinoya?” An officemate of his came by to his table. It was one of the newly recruited employees from the other department, Yachi Hitoka, if he recalled during their first day’s orientation. In his conversation with their boss, Kiyoko Shimizu, mentioned that Yachi can be a bit clumsy but she's surprisingly quite a hard worker, if she puts her mind to the task assigned to her.

She was rather shy in words, as Kiyoko puts it, but Nishinoya wasn’t that very well spoken when it comes to talking to other girls. “Queen.” By that, she meant Kiyoko because it's what their department agreed in calling her. “wants to know the progress on your due’s assignment.”

“It’s about.” He stuck out his tongue, mentally computing the amount and estimated progress over his project. “About eighty percent close to finishing time, so I’ll probably be done with a few adjustments before our lunch break.”

“Alright." Yachi replied then added with concern, "Please be sure to save it properly.”

Nishinoya directed a thumbs-up at her, with a matching grin. “Don't worry, I’ll make sure to send the file to her via e-mail as soon as I'm done.”

Yachi nodded as she took her leave, leaving Noya with his coffee-stained table and busy line of work. He swirled his chair back to his computer, facing over the missing contents and the solutions needed in the following documents. His phone was left aside on his table since he figured that no one would try to contact him at this time and Tanaka might be occupied with something else.

“My, my, you’re making quite the nifty progress there, Nishinoya.”

Nishinoya looked up from his seat, only to find one of his colleagues who bothered to peek out his head from the side of Nishinoya’s cubicle. He didn’t like watching at how creepy the man’s beady eyes were as they focused at the monitor of his computer.

Almost like he was plotting something.


He groaned out his frustration once he was outside. Standing close to the entrance of his office, he hoped his officemates heard his angry loud cry so that it would give them the idea at how much he wanted to punch their faces. Awhile ago, he apparently discovered that someone took the liberty of erasing all the new changes in his drive while he went out for a short break. Everything that he spent and worked so hard on was no longer found or already corrupted with errors by a traced unreadable source. Talk about dumb luck, he had to stay the whole day inside his cubicle to cram and finish off the worth of a week’s project.

And to be on the safer side, he saved it this time. Twice. Along with a back-up copy of the files stored in his computer, just in case a horrible dilemma like that would happen again.

There was still an hour left before the last train’s departure so he had to run from the building to the station in record time. Nishinoya reached safely inside the passenger area at the very last minute, grabbing himself a seat that was vacant.