Fandom: Macross Frontier
Disclaimer: No ownership implied, no profit gained. This is a fanwork.
Summary: Their rivalry hides so much more.
Notes: A request for a little more Brera & Alto
"Quit glaring at each other," Ranka demanded as she glanced back at Brera and Alto, who were following her through the lantern-lit, noisy festival. Alto and Brera each immediately looked in the other direction and tread onward. Both men had their hands full of things Ranka had already purchased and the night wasn't over - fireworks would cap off the evening in less than an hour's time.
"Oh!" Ranka crouched down at one of the many vendor stalls, pointing into a large plastic pool of colorful goldfish. Alto sighed wistfully and retrieved his wallet from within his yukata. Brera smiled - at least until Alto shot a cold glare in his direction.
Once Alto had paid, Ranka quickly tried to catch a tiny white and orange fish on the rice paper scoop she'd been given, but it broke almost immediately.
"Would you like me to try?" Brera asked as he knelt down beside her, ruffling her hair once he set down the bags he'd been holding. Like Alto, he was wearing a yukata and looking far more exotic than even his normal appearance.
"Not yet," Ranka replied, taking another scoop from the vendor and trying again. She tried to move quicker, and aimed for a fish close to the edge that she could easily get into the low glass bowl sitting in front of her, but she had no luck.
"I could try," Alto said flatly as he knelt down as well. He reached for one of Ranka's scoops but she batted him away.
"Not yet," she protested before frowning in concentration and making a fast dip at another white and orange spotted fish. The rice paper broke just before she got to the bowl, and with a soft splash, the fish fell through and swam back into its school of brethren.
Brera handed a fistful of coins to the vendor before Ranka could continue. Not to be outdone, Alto followed, receiving a half-dozen rice paper scoops of his own. With a twitching smirk, he glanced over at Brera, who was doing his best to keep a straight face.
"Eh?" Ranka looked between the two and then dove with another scoop. If it was war, she was going to participate as well.
The first fish into the winner's bowl was from Brera - orange with black spots and wriggling about furiously even after being deposited into the shallow bowl.
Alto winced and tried with his second scoop. The first one had broken when he'd tried to get a much faster, much larger fish than the one Brera had captured. Brera smirked and went after another.
Ten minutes later, Ranka was awkwardly clutching three bags of goldfish and still trying to point to a spot to sit and wait for the fireworks.
All three turned to see Ozma and Cathy waving from a few meters away.
"Brother!" Ranka replied, before realizing she couldn't really wave back.
"Looks like you've been busy," Cathy said with a soft smile as she looked at what the three of them were holding.
"We could take it all home before the fireworks start," Brera suggested, almost stumbling over the middle of the sentence.
"Hurry back," Ranka said quickly, offering the fish to Alto.
"But..." Alto started, before Brera grabbed his sleeve.
"Come along," Brera said firmly as he leaned close so that no one else could hear him. "Ozma will take care of anything else Ranka wants."
"Fine." Alto admitted defeat and loaded his arms with bags of fish. Ranka smiled and waved as the two set off.
The first of the fireworks exploded overhead long before the pair returned to the festival. Bags had been piled on Ozma's kitchen table and fish had been poured into a large lemonade pitcher, which was the largest clear glass item that Alto had been able to find on a quick search. And then turned their attention to one another, as they had somehow ended up doing back before they'd decided not to question it.
Both men froze at the first bang, too used to combat and not celebration. They looked upwards out the window, watching red glitter fade to black just before another bang and a shower of gold painted the sky. Alto's hair had been pulled loose, and Brera's yukata was out of place already, and neither one saw the next burst of color because their eyes were closed again, mouths together and hands roaming.
In fact, the fireworks were just ending by the time they made their way back to where Ranka, Ozma and Cathy were, a little out of breath and not at all looking at one another.
"Goldfish--" Alto started, just to be silenced by a sharp glare from Brera.
"Had to yell at someone who mistook him for a woman," Brera offered.
Ranka giggled. Alto sighed. And when nobody was looking, Brera merely offered an apologetic smile.
"You can catch the fireworks tomorrow night," Cathy offered with an almost-knowing smile.
"To-tomorrow?" Alto stammered.
Brera brushed close beside him. "And all week," he commented. "In case Ranka would like more goldfish."
Drink Lemonade! Tip Your Waitress!