Kis-My-Ft2, Wish in One Hand, Spit in the Other

Title: Wish in One Hand, Spit in the Other [Kitayama, Kis-My-Ft2]
Rating/Warnings: PG
Summary: Honestly, Kitayama doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do about their group’s merging issues.
AN: Written for Shiritori. Featuring barely merged Kis-my-ft2? Although I guess it’s been a little bit since it’s 7nin.

Wish in One Hand, Spit in the Other

“Taisuke’s happy to pick up their slack about as much as you’re happy to give up naptime,” Yokoo informs him, and when Kityama picks his face up off of his text book, Yokoo’s arms are crossed.

“I don’t need this,” Kitayama growls, but it doesn’t have at all the same effect on Yokoo as it does on their four new baby-sitting charges.

“Don’t try to threaten me with that face,” Yokoo says. He shrugs like he’s washing his hands of the whole business. “I’m only telling you because soon it’ll be Takki-senpai standing here telling you the same thing, and he’ll be telling you exactly what you’re going to do about it.”

“Okay, okay!” Kitayama waves Yokoo off, snappish despite Yokoo’s correct assessment of the situation, or maybe because of it.

Honestly, he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do about their group’s merging issues. Nikaido doesn’t give half a damn about anything he says, and Senga does mostly what Nikaido tells him to. Tamamori needs to put in a ton of work and is too much of a wimp to actually do it, and conversely Miyata tries harder than anybody but only ever manages to be painfully average.

None of them are meshing very well with Fujigaya’s shrill brand of leadership, and Yokoo’s pointed looks seem too subtle for them as well. Kitayama isn’t supposed to be anybody’s senpai, much less their leader, so if Yokoo’s telling him to get off his ass and lead, things must be worse than he thought.

Much worse, he sighs to himself during skating practice, as the choreographer tries to untangle the four-way collision that a yowling Fujigaya is at the bottom of. Tama shuffles over as if he’s trying to hide behind Kitayama, and Kitayama doesn’t blame him one bit. Still, he can’t do nothing. Yelling hasn’t worked, subtle and not-so-subtle pressure hasn’t worked, and ignoring it certainly hasn’t, so Kitayama decides he’ll at least try something else.

But he’s definitely going to start with the path of least resistance.

“Senga-kun,” Kitayama pulls Senga aside to say, and he frowns internally at how Senga immediately looks guilty, “could you practice with Nikaido-kun a little more during lunch?”

“I…me?” Senga blinks, his shoulders relaxing since nobody’s yelling at him. “But I’m not any better than him.”

“That’s why you should both practice,” Kitayama explains. “But if I tell him to, he’ll be a dick about it, be an even bigger dick this afternoon, and then tomorrow we’ll still look awful. I’m tired of looking awful, so would you help me out? Please.”

Senga looks pleased as punch to be put in charge of anything, even though he cautions that odds are good Nikaido won’t listen to him either. His grin is cute enough that he might even manage it, Kitayama figures.

And if it keeps Nikaido busy during lunch so that Fujigaya might unbunch his panties, that would make everybody’s afternoon a lot more pleasant.

One of Ueda-kun’s fairies must be looking out for them or granting wishes or some shit like that, because that afternoon Senga and Nikaido manage three tricks in a row without disaster, and Senga looks so pleased with himself it’s kind of disgusting. Yokoo doesn’t comment, but he gives Kitayama’s shoulder a tap with his fist on the way by. When there’s only a two-person pile-up and Fujigaya actually stops to help, Kitayama thinks he might actually believe in miracles.

Maybe next he’ll try asking Tamamori to teach Miyata to be attractive.

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