NaraMoore ⛩️👻八尺様👻⛩️ at FediSole Survivor 唯の生存者 1 of 2
#FanFic #AdachiAndShimamura
#Wss366 Soul
Sitting in the shade of a palm, Adachi contemplated the day. She’d woken to the sound of the surf crashing, sand clinging to every crevice of skin, and salt-drenched hair straggling over her face. Inches away from her face, a sand crab scuttled away.
She was the sole survivor of the Sea Striker.
Why had she been forced to go on this stupid “business” trip? She wondered vaguely. Then she remembered her boss ordering her to go. “Only you know the details of this account. Besides, Mr. Striker likes you.”
If only she’d had the nerve to refuse! Stupid, stupid, stupid.
When she had complained to Shimamura, her wife said, “You’ll have fun.”
Adachi buried her face in her hands. Nothing was fun without Shimamura. “Has she grown tired of our married life?” Adachi had wondered. “Why would she send me away!”
Her gaze turned to the wall of jungle behind her and the stream flowing past the overgrown rows of breadfruit trees. That’s what Striker’s secretary had called them. He’d laughed, saying, “Slave food. Better than soylent green.” Not that that meant anything to her.
“Guess I won’t starve,” Adachi said, looking at the spiny yellow-green fruit growing on the trees.
On higher ground behind the orchard, a ruined building with a rusted corrugated roof was visible.
“Water, food, and lodging, but no Shimamura. Lucky me,” she grumbled.
Finally, her focus shifted to the bronze Arabian lamp in her lap. It had just been sitting on a piece of flotsam, as if expecting her to find it. She idly rubbed the lamp, and, to her astonishment, a sky-blue cloud poured from its mouth. Stars danced amid the sugar-scented tendrils.
#TootFic #MicroFiction #NMFic #AdachiToShimamura #Cute #Yuri
Asakiyume