Work Text:
The door opens with a click, footsteps approaching behind Feinberg.
"Not again!" K4yfour wails dramatically, abandoning their notes to cover their face. Next to him, Fulham winces and turns the other way. "Stop trying to blind us!"
Feinberg is pretty sure he knows who just walked in.
Fruit cackles. "It's not my problem!" He says, taking the empty seat next to Couriway and not-so-subtly laughing at the way Couri pointedly looks in the opposite direction.
He's wearing his usual lime outfit again. And this time, to K4yfour's clear horror, he's paired it with another clashing and headache-inducing colour.
MCC is coming up, and Fruit has apparently decided the best shade of pink he can wear to represent his team is hot pink. Which, as even Nerdi can tell you, does not go with lime at all.
On any other day, Feinberg would be laughing along with him. Wearing a suit almost 24/7 means he hardly has a chance for skin-to-skin contact, and not meeting his soulmate means he can't see whatever fashion crime Fruit commits on a daily basis.
But, after months of being blessedly immune to Fruit's atrocities, Couri runs into him as he's blowing up a savannah villager's house, lighting the fuse with shaky hands, and the first colour he sees is the bright orange of an acacia door when they reach for the handle at the same time. (They nearly both get blown up in shock, but Couri reacts just in time and hauls Feinberg out of there milliseconds before the TNT ignites.)
And now he can see Fruit's lime hoodie in all its glorious, blinding beauty.
Instead, Feinberg plots revenge.
Fruit always wears his stupid gloves (also neon fucking lime), probably because he himself is too much of a coward to face his own fashion choices.
So Feinberg's going to find Fruit's soulmate–good luck with that, his rival is the last person he'd expect to be his soulmate; clearly, the Universe is batshit insane–and he's going to make them touch.
Wait, that sounds wrong.
Whatever, it's the thought that counts. Once Fruit can see what he's wearing, surely he would think twice before wearing his now-signature lime, or at least pick a less striking colour.
"I can't wait till you find your soulmate," Couri has the same thought. "Maybe you'll finally stop wearing that stupid green."
"Oh?" Fruit grins and it's a little scary. "Maybe I've already met my soulmate."
Everyone's attention snaps to him.
"Chill out! I haven't!" Fruit says defensively, and everyone groans. "What? You think I'd know who my soulmate is without touching them? K4yfour, your soulmate is the fucking void."
K4yfour rolls their eyes. "I love the void. I'm going to marry the void. Your point?"
"Well, maybe now you do, but no one's going to guess that their soulmate's the void, that's crazy!" Fruit retorts. "It's not like I can just turn around and bam! Soulmate!"
It's at this moment that Illumina decides to join them, and Fruit somehow manages to spin and point directly at him.
"…Hello?" He says, confused, as the rest of the table burst out laughing. Fruit blinks, looks at his hand, and looks back up at Illumina.
"I don't know, it sure looks like you can," Feinberg tells him. "Hey, Illumina, can you do us all a favour and see if you're Fruit's soulmate?"
"Yeah, Illumina," K4yfour agrees. "Save us all, please."
Illumina freezes for a moment. "Uh, no?" He says with a nervous laugh. "I kinda promised him not to,"
That takes a second for Feinberg to process.
When he does, he doesn't believe Illumina. "You know? No, hang on, Fruit knows?"
"No shot. No way you two know for sure." Fulham shakes his head disbelievingly, as Fruit covers his face in exasperation ("Illumina! I told you not to say that!"). "You let him do this?"
Illumina, standing awkwardly next to the table, shrugs. They have matching gloves. Gloves. So they don't touch. Feinberg doesn't believe them. "I can't see it either, so, uh– not my problem?"
"Being able to see colour is usually supposed to be a good thing, y'know." Couri says drily, raising an eyebrow. "Can't you two be normal for once?"
Fruit pretends to think about it.
"Nah, this is more fun."
Fulham sighs and stands up. "Fine, let it be this way, then."
"What way?" Illumina asks, right before Fulham lunges and tackles him. Couri joins them in a tangle of wings and fabric, tripping and sending the three of them crashing into the floor. "Agh! Get off me!"
Feinberg exchanges looks with K4yfour and they grab Fruit by the arms as Feinberg tries to pry off Fruit's glove, narrowly avoiding a well-aimed kick.
Couri frees Illumina's hand with a triumphant shout and Fein uses Fruit's to sloppily high-five him.
"Did it work?" Illumina asks as their hands meet, then instantly scrunches his eyes shut. "It did."
A wise choice, unlike Fruit, who instead chooses to look down at his hoodie. He visibly double-takes. "How haven't you guys killed me yet? What the fuck is this?"
Feinberg feels vindicated.
From then on, Fruit wears less… vibrant clothing. It's still bad, though; he quickly becomes an expert at dodging mirrors and returns to tormenting his friends with a vengeance.