Title: Hyuse Cronin…yeah.

Chapter IV: Play that Funky Maple Quebec Boy

Author: Ri-Ryn

Genre: Humor/Friendship

Word Count: 579

Rating: M* (Content suitable for Mature Teens) / +T

Disclaimer: World Trigger belongs to Ashihara Daisuke.

Warnings: Some explicit language. Stereotypes. Crack. Ikoma IS dead.

A/N: We can all guess where this chapter title came from. Not sure if to end the story here or I have two other possible chapters? Any thoughts, guys?


"I gotta' do something for Hyuston," Ikoma finally decided.

Maori slapped her hands over her face, groaning. "Oh God why did ya' pick up Ouji's stupid nickname? Why did I even consider that ya' were actually thinkin' 'bout strategy right now?" What had she done to deserve this, to deserve Ikoma?

"Well, Jin was a real bro teachin' me the best way to a chick was a man that could cook." Ikoma nodded, satisfied.

"And what does that have to do with Hyuse?" Māori asked, stressing the proper last name.

"'Dunno? I figured mi casa, su casa, 'ya know?"

Māori wanted to scream.

"So, what d'ya think?"

"Maple syrup," she hissed, wanting him out of her squad room and sanctuary. "And take the other three with you!" Her pity for Hyuse had been depleted and her ire for Jin-san grown - whatever made her team not her problem for the next few hours.

"Of course!" Even Ikoma knew that; Māori was cute and brilliant!


"And so…" Osamu trailed off, eying the mountain of bottles now in Tamakoma's possession via guilt by association and Ikoma.

"It said I'm supposed to like this, whatever they are." Hyuse suspected it was another Canadian thing (off brand Aftokrator) though he was positive his home held nothing similar. Perhaps this was the first genuine manufactured product of those bargain Aftokratians?

Osamu refrained from correcting Hyuse that people were not 'its' as Ikoma - with swift efficiency - worked himself onto Osamu's LIST.

"Maple syrup," he conceded, "you put it onto food. It's very sweet."

"I'll decide upon that," Hyuse huffed, appraising the 'maple syrup' with proper consideration due to his once removed brethren.


A fucking mistake that was, Osamu fervently praying the last three weeks were a fever dream. Hyuse didn't just like maple syrup, he obscenely adored it. If it existed and was consumable, Hyuse drenched it or stirred syrup in. From ruining Tamakoma's communal meals to Border feeding into the stereotype and keeping up a steady supply, the things Osamu witnessed were crimes against humanity.

It comes to a breaking point after he witnessed Ikoma high five an uneasy looking Jin-san to the excitement of Oki and Minamisawa. Jin could only offer a disquieting apology dripping with guilt.

The hatred Osamu had cultivated steadily should have been enough to ignite the ramen stall they frequented now days after, Chika and Kuga wisely seating themselves two chairs away,

It was when Hyuse pulled the tiniest syrup bottle out of one hoodie pocket to season the ramen that Osamu snapped, the offending hand now seized en route.

Hyuse dispassionately noted something off before indifferently asking, "What?"

"Go on," Osamu seethed like ice, "pour it in there." His hand tightened and the soldier swore internally, his naivety prominent.

"Or?"

"Or I will shatter your wrist and make you watch as I destroy all of it." Green eyes drifted to the innocuous bottle, Kuga looking at them in alarm. It's that congenital fear from the other Neighbor with his particular side effect that has Hyuse wisely conceding that syrup was immediately off limits and surrendering the now contraband.

Said contraband broke in their captain's palm, blood welling up and over embedded glass while Osamu's face remained disturbingly unperturbed.


OMAKE

"You, Ikoma-san, have earned yourself a lovely trip."

"Oho?! For the syrup? Are 'ya gonna' make 'er nice?"

"I will ensure it leaves you quiet."

Ikoma was confused when Osamu led him away sedately, following along easily enough.