Category: General Fluff
Characters: Rumi Usagiyama
Requested By: anubislover (Tumblr)
Rumi's lips were slightly pursed as she peered out of the small window of the helicopter. Below the sleek black accents, the blue waves of Japan's Inland Sea sloshed and splashed, throwing up bubbly white seafoam in impressive arcs. Her red eyes slowly rolled in her sockets to spy the small silhouette of the lone island nestled within the bay. The morning sun framed its lumpy shape in black; the only contrast lay in its white beaches, which ringed the landmark like a curling ribbon. The sound-canceling headphones secured over her fluffy ears protected Rumi's sensitive eardrums from the helicopter's persistent buffeting chops as it spirited her onward to Okunoshima- better known as "Rabbit Island."
Rumi was traveling to the historical park-slash-island as a public relations campaign her agency dreamed up. "You're the Rabbit Hero!" her manager had squawked optimistically. "The public would adore you socializing with all these bunnies!" The corner of Rumi's mouth twitched from just recalling the mortifying proposal. Rumi didn't hate her animal namesake, naturally, and knew that public relations campaigns were the lifeblood of sponsorships and popularity polls… but did she really have to gallivant off to a spit of land off the coast and cozy up to some feral rabbits for six hours? There are so many more useful things I could be doing, she moped.
The subtle shift in air pressure indicated to her that the helicopter was landing. She straightened up in her seat and compulsively combed her fingers through her long, alabaster hair. The public arrived at Okunoshima via ferry, but Rumi was a VIP if there ever was one, hence her arrival by air; however, the island was not equipped with any sort of landing pad. Instead, the helicopter descended upon a flat stretch of clearing. The grass blades whipped wildly about as they were battered by the relentless air currents sweeping down from the helicopter's swirling blades. The small-bodied aircraft shuddered as it finally made contact with the earth. Rumi kept the noise-canceling headphones over her tall ears until the engine's whine dwindled to a small, whimpering keen. As she was wrenching them off her head and tossing them onto the floor, the island caretaker trotted up to the aircraft.
"Did you have a pleasant flight, Miss Mirko?" He asked politely as the lithe, tanned hero climbed out of the helicopter and hopped down onto the grass. Tsking, she clawed the steel-toes of her hero suit into the dirt, digging up clumps of damp earth and dry grass.
"Indeed," she remarked but only because courtesy was customary. "Although I would prefer to leave the flying to Hawks," she added with a cheesy sneer. She was only teasing, but the man still tugged at his tie and sputtered something about changing arrangements. "It's not necessary," she shrugged with a wave of her gloved hand. "Let's just get this thing started already."
"But of course!" the nervous academic simpered and because barking at his numerous assistants and employees to finish the preparations for Rumi's photoshoot. The hero scowled when her manager quipped at her to exercise proper decorum. All this red tape and two-faced bullshit. Blegh, she thought sourly. While the men and women busied themselves by setting up cameras and props, Rumi wandered to the edge of the clearing.
The helicopter's droning chopping blades and whirring engine had doubtlessly frightened the island's residents. Now that the machine sat silent upon the grass, curiosity was beginning to get the better of them. Rumi's eyebrow crept up a few centimeters as a fat, furry golden rabbit hopped out of some brambles upon her coming. Its nose twitched, and its little jaws were chomping some grass blades into a paste. They live up to their tame reputation, she thought in amusement as she strolled right up to the bunny and patted its round haunches. Though she had gloves, she could tell that the creature's fur was silky and smooth. The tourism kept the rabbits in excellent health, it seemed.
"Mirko, em, Miss Mir-"
"Just 'Mirko' is fine," she informed the island director as he came trundling to the edge of the clearing. It had a slight decline, and he seemed to be having a rough time of maneuvering through the slick grass in his fancy dress shoes. He probably sits in an air-conditioned office all day. He looks so out of his element it's not even funny, she thought in mild disdain and straightened up. The man yelped when the smooth soles of his dress shoes slipped over the grass, causing him to fall and slide down the small hill. Rumi couldn't help but smile when he stumbled up, and his sophisticated beige dress pants sported a streak of fresh green down the left side. He nervously adjusted his tie and cleared his throat.
"Mis- I mean, Mirko, all the preparations are complete."
Mirko hiked up the hill with ease, with the sweating academic huffing and puffing behind her. The clearing had been transformed from a blank, empty canvas in a matter of minutes. A camera crew was bustling between three different cameras, adjusting lenses and arranging white umbrella-like structures to reflect the flash in a way that would flatter Rumi most. A picnic table was situated amongst a patch of white dandelions growing not far from the helicopter. Several tin buckets of carrots were scattered here and there, likely bribing tools for the island's furry natives. Rumi sauntered up to pluck one of the orange root vegetables out of the bucket and chomp down on it with powerful jaws. A meek young assistant girl gawked wide-eyed at her as she devoured the carrot in seconds but seemed to have more sense than to question the Number-Five Hero.
"All right," Rumi hummed and clapped her hands together. The leather of her gloves made the smack even more resounding. "Photograph me with some of these wild rabbits so I can get back to work." Her manager whined miserably and tipped back her head at Rumi's show of disdain, but Rumi didn't care. I'm a hero, not a model, she grumped. This entire photo operation will get one run in a magazine and be forgotten in two weeks.
Rumi glanced down at something brushed against her navy-blue tights. A chunky spotted rabbit was nosing her calf, seemingly demanding pets. Smirking slightly, Rumi leaned over to grab the fuzzy creature and nuzzle him against her bosom. Well, at least all my other models are super cute, she smiled and gave the bunny some well-deserved scratches behind his floppy ears. The photographer called for Rumi to approach, so she did, still holding the contented bunny rabbit.
"Quite remarkable how tame they are," the photographer grinned under the brim of his baseball cap and patted the spotted rabbit's flank. Several other bunnies were bounding through the grass-and-flower field toward her, obviously jealous. Chittering impatiently, they butted their furry heads against her solid calves and bounded circles around her steel-toed feet. "They rather like you."
"Surprising," she remarked smugly with a twitch of her furry white ears.
The photographer situated her at the picnic table first. They piled several of the big rabbits on its wooden surface, with Rumi leaning her cheek in her hand and smiling while hand-feeding them carrots. It actually wasn't that difficult a pose to maintain, as Rumi found treating the rabbits quite entertaining. Their little jaws worked tirelessly at the crunchy orange root and sprigs of green leaves while their long ears constantly swiveled, searching the airwaves for any signs of danger. Their beady black eyes glittered in the sunlight; beady indeed but glimmering with an individual intelligence and charm that made Rumi smile happily. She removed one of her white leather gloves to stroke the length of one's back, admiring the impeccable softness of its fur. By the time the photographer announced that they would be moving on to the next phase of the photoshoot, she was rather enjoying herself.
They got a few candid shots of Rumi strolling about through the tall grasses with the curious bunnies hopping along behind her. After a few minutes, she elected to have a fair bit of fun and crouched down to begin jumping along with her powerful legs. The rabbits sprinted after her, then playfully ran circles around her squatting body when she paused. The smile on her face was beaming as she hopped around the clearing with the bunnies. Twenty of them had meandered onto the photoshoot set, nearly all of them dashing along with the laughing Rumi.
"Ahaha! You guys sure are a lot of fun!" she crowed as she rolled onto her back, holding one of the fluffy bunnies aloft. Two more of them clambered up onto her belly, thumping against the toned flesh with powerful paws, while another climbed up her inclined legs to perch on her knees. Another still nested in her voluminous white hair and began chewing on the thin strands, thinking it nourishment. "Hey, cut that out," she snickered and shoved it in the rump. It twitched its cottony, ball-shaped tail but obediently spat out her long locks. She heard the shutter of the camera snapping frantically and sat up, the rabbits slouching off her like they were boneless sacks of meat.
"I am so relieved you are enjoying our island's residents!" the director sighed. He was sweating less now, though his earlier fit was evidenced by the damp patches in the armpits of his blue dress shirt. The green grass stripe still glared starkly in his pressed pants, and his tie was crumpled from how relentlessly he had been fidgeting with it.
"Yes, indeed," she smiled while holding up one of the fluffy denizens. "I was unsure about it at first, but these little guys are quite adorable." The camera flashed a few more times as Rumi brought the rabbit to her face to nuzzle her cheeks against the top of its head.
"This article is going to make headlines!" her manager cooed with happiness beside the reporter, who was scribbling notes on his notepad. Honestly, Rumi could care less about the publicity or her ratings. She flopped back into the fresh green grasses, and the bunnies immediately congregated around her, nuzzling into every spare inch of space they could find. Their warm bodies insulated Rumi, spreading cozy head from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes; her eyes drifted shut at the contenting heat. She giggled as one of the bunnies nosed her face, and its whiskers tickled her soft skin.
There are more useful things I could be doing, she thought as her mind descended into the twilight of half-sleep, but I suppose a hero could use a break every once and a while. She supposed she could have netted herself a more annoying public relations campaign than falling asleep beneath the summer sun blanketed by cute little bunnies, after all.
She would have appreciated it if they hadn't used that image as the front cover for Heroes Magazine, however.
Rumi glared thunderously at Hawks as he sat across from her at the café table. He was doubled over in the wrought-iron chair cackling so hysterically that the other patrons were glancing over in concern. Rumi's tall white ears repeatedly twitched in annoyance at the high pitch of his snickers. After what seemed like an eternity, he slowly sat up, a hand over his mouth to smother the lingering giggles leaking out.
"Are you finished, Hawks?"
"I'm sorry," the red-winged hero whimpered with another fervid glance at the damning photograph plastered on the cover of the magazine. "It's just- It makes you look so innocent and sweet!" he howled and threw himself back in the chair. As he flung his bulk, the chair tipped backward on two legs. "Oh no!" he yelped and pinwheeled his arms to rebalance himself. The iron furniture seemed to hang in the air for a moment before falling backward, gaining momentum before striking the concrete with a resounding clang. Rumi smirked, fancying karma had struck the bird-brain quite justly. "I suppose I deserved that," he huffed while pulling himself up using the edge of the glass-topped café table.
"I agree with you, actually," she huffed and daintily sipped at her latte. "That photograph is horrible for my reputation. I can't have all my young fans thinking I'm some delicate princess." Hawks grinned at her as he righted his chair and plunked down, more cautiously this time. He laced his fingers and tucked him under his chin, and his shining eyes gleamed behind his golden visor.
"True, I suppose. Although- and don't hit me for this- I think it's also quite a flattering image of you." Rumi's cheeks flushed hot and red, and she thumped his shin under the table with the flat of her foot. He whined miserably and clutched at his assaulted leg. "I said, don't hit me!"
"I didn't. I kicked you."
"That's even worse! You could crush watermelons with your thighs, y'know, so I'm sure one of your kicks could crush bones!" he whined, rubbing tenderly at the likely bruised flesh. Rumi smirked, momentarily fantasizing what crushing a watermelon on live television would do for her image. Her red eyes fell back to the magazine, where she lay amongst the flowers and snoozing bunnies. Her white hair cascaded around her, running like rivers of milk between her tanned limbs and the bunnies' multicolored fur. Her lips were slightly parted, and her head tilted to the side, making the golden sunlight spill over her dark skin and make it glow a rich bronze. Her eyes were slightly scrunched up. She really did look innocent and content… and dare she say, beautiful. Her cheeks hazed again, and she looked at Hawks to find him grinning seductively.
She kicked him in the other shin, and he wailed miserably. She stood from the table, draining the dregs of her latte as he pitifully peered up at her. "Mirko, whyyy?"
"Because you're a hundred years too early to try and flirt with me, feathers," she huffed. The ceramic mug clinked against the saucer as she set it down. Grinning, Rumi flashed him a wink. "But I might forgive you if you buy my coffee. Ciaoooo~!" Using her thick legs, she sprinted away, leaving Hawks cursing yet impressed in the dust. Her laughter floated back to him on the wind.
Needless to say, that photoshoot worked wonders for her popularity, in all sorts of ways…