Chapter 1: You Are My Sunshine

Fandom: Hamatora

Summary: Before the events in Episode 7 occur, Art meets a Minimum Holder with the power to turn people into children.

Pairing: NiceArt

Rating: T

Warnings: I am guessing the daaaaaaates.

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Wordcount: 452

Inspiration came from fabelyn and weirdpersonhere's post on tumblr. ^^

It is the overhead sun that witnesses Nice's declaration to Art, the naming of its rays to another. "You are my sunshine!" The ten year old declares. It is the tittering wind that carries the two children's laughter. It is the tilting, curious flowers that spy the interlocked pinkies – a promise.

The world, a neon mass, passes in a blinding, multicolored blur as Nice dashes between statued pedestrians and stilled objects. He runs – fast enough that his legs burn because –

"Nice, there's a situation…"

Impossibly, Nice speeds up. Eyes watering, legs protesting, heart cracking at his ribs. Only once before had he run so fast his entire body ached (bus, explosion, tears, dead, gone, grave, Art).

"It's Art –"

"It's confidential." Nice spits, repeating Gasquet's words, "Come to the police department." The sound of snapping fingers echo over and over and over on frantic repeat, the noise bouncing between buildings and streets.

It's too long, much too long, before Nice sees the doors of the Yokohama PD. He barely pays heed to the secretary, and only stops when he's facing the frozen face of Art's partner. Nice doesn't bother pulling off his headphones.

"Where's Art." A demand.

But, instead of a reply, Gasquet gives a bemused sigh. Nice could have punched the man.

"Where," Nice says – a feral sound –, steps closer, and dares another nonanswer, "Is. Art."

Gasquet snaps up his hands, palms turned forwards. "He's here! Don't cause a scene; he's fine."

"You called me." He glances briefly at the phone in Gasquet's hands before snapping his eyes back up, "On Art's phone. You said there was a situation. An apparently confidential one."

Gasquet heaves a sigh and closes an eye. Not my best words. "Art's fine, he was only asking for you."

"Art could have called me himself."

"Ah," Gasquet says, "But the line could have been tapped."

Infuriating. "Look. I'll just look for Art myself. Keep your confidential situations secret."

The man is only amused, "No need. Just follow me."

Nice's fingers itch, ready to snap and run. But, Gasquet knows where Art is and it will be faster following him –

At least, Nice thought so for the first fifteen seconds. "Are your legs broken? Can you walk any slower?"

"Art, I'm questioning your taste in men." Gasquet says in a quiet, weary breath.

Nice narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"My partner's taste is as undeveloped as his current body."

"What."

"We're here."

"That's not what you said."

Gasquet does not bother himself with responding as he pulls open the gray door they've stopped in front of and a tiny body topped with lilac hair in a familiar cut slams into Nice's leg and squeezes.

"Nice!"

"Art!?" Current body?

AN:

(Short chapter, the following ones are probably going to be longer. Still, I hope you liked it. :D)