[Fic] For a special birthday
Hello again ^^
Here's my second yummi fic in English. Hope you'll appreciate it.
Title: Exotic Fishes
Rating: G
Genre: Fluffly, again.
Pairing: Yuuta/Mizuki
Advert: I wrote this one for Mizuki's birthday and for magnolia_ceres. Same as last one, English is not my first langage, so it may have lots of faults in there.
So that was it. He had foreseen it, in a way, but not in these proportions.
Mizuki Hajime, now a newly 18 years-old aged student, had lived on his own for now two months. It has been a sort of obligation: St-Rudolph ‘s College was not providing the studies he wanted to do (European literature), and so, he had to go to another college, thus leaving behind him all the things that has been his life since he was 11.
With his sister’s help, he had so found a pretty small apartment, 20 minutes far from the college. Eventually, he had decorated it with some creamy wallpapers and purple furniture. It was even better than in his former dorm (where in fact Atsushi had developed a strange allergy to all things purple, leaving Mizuki with no choice but throw away his favourite pillow)
So, all things resumed, Mizuki found himself, on this Thursday afternoon, sitting across his small table, a pile of letters and package put before him.
/So, haven’t I solemnly declared four years ago that I didn’t want any celebration for my birthday?/, thought Mizuki.
He got up to prepare some tea and biscuits. The day had been damn hard, what with the surprise test their teacher of French literature had given them in the morning (at 8.00... what healthy teenager or student would be intellectually awake to have a test this early anyway?), so Mizuki had all rights to have some biscuits, even if they were damn expensive and only there for celebrations.
All in all, Mizuki was in a bad mood, for the test he failed, the fact it was his birthday, and the letters. And the bills too, as he saw some official envelops in the pill.
/Damn? Is it so expensive to take a bath everyday?/
Mizuki quickly threw away the bills and concentrated on the other stuff.
First there was a package. A small one, wrapped in some cheap brown paper. Mizuki was pretty sure to know from whom it came from.
/Only him could have a so ridiculous idea/, he thought when he saw the little tape that was contained in the package.
Mizuki put the tape in his recorder and listened. It was some old traditional Japanese song, about cherry tree that had so beautiful flowers and the sun so bright, and bla and bla and bla... It was not a bad song, and it was even not bad singing. But this kind of songs, Mizuki remembered listening to it since he was a little child, only able to cry and drink milk from his mother’s breast. And even this particular type of songs (about spring and cherry and flowers) was only sung on his birthday.
Mizuki remembered this special day (he was celebrating his 7th birthday). All his family had been in some feast, in his native city. And then, at the end of the lunch (which was quite good, even for the difficult child he had been), his father had gone to the small platform, taken a mike and sung for his only son birthday. God, hadn’t it been the most shameful day of his life!
/Father has always bad taste for presents./
But Mizuki didn’t stop the tape. Eating another biscuit, he began reading the first letter. It was from his mother, wishing him good luck and wishes for his studies, asking him to return home for holydays. Every year she would ask for him, but every year since his 13th he would decline. Mizuki hated his native town, hated family meetings. He visited his family once in a while, not for long, and was always grateful to all gods that existed when he returned finally safely to Tokyo.
Then there was his grand-mother’s letter, with a present. He had always loved his grand-mother, perhaps for the fact that, even living in a rural world for all her life, she was always acting like an aristocrat. Or so he had always remembered and would always remember her. The present was some Chinese tea leaves, for she knew he liked them. /For your collection/, she said in the letter.
Unconsciously, Mizuki was starting to appreciate these little gifts that he discovered letters after letters. His biscuits were soon left untouched, his tea growing cold.
There was his sister’s card, elegant, certainly bought in some expensive bookmark, since she knew all of her little brother’s tastes. Along with the card was a drawing of his nephew. Mizuki was not the kind of uncle that was all fluffy with kids. Absolutely not. He hated kids. But his nephew (and only his nephew) was an exception. He wouldn’t go as far as playing with him, but he would certainly thank him for the drawing. After all, if a kid this age was able to draw a man with a rose shirt and purple jeans, he should give him high hopes for his future!
His second sister had sent him a card on her own too, with regards from his brother-in-law and a tiny bad written signature in hiragana from his niece. Perhaps he should accept their invitation to go visit them on his next holydays. He had never seen his niece, and he had heard that onsen in Yokohama were not that bad. Perhaps this winter.
Then Mizuki opened another envelop.
Oh God...
Had he never told Akazawa to never let Dane chose the card? It was horrible, even in Mizuki point of view. He had never known that light yellow and bright purple could be that bad together.
Or perhaps Dane was really thinking he has this bad taste?
Mizuki’s hand searched blindly for the next letter he was sure to receive.
Er...
Perhaps...
Perhaps it had fallen under the table, or in his bag.
Mizuki searched for some time, growing impatient and angry. Yes, he was a little instable in his temper, but it was really justifiable. After all, why the most important person for him (even if he denied this on a regular basis) would have forgotten his birthday? Not that he cared. He didn’t care for his birthday after all. It was just some stupid feast only here to let his father humiliate him and his sisters make his family’s instincts go all alive and so on.
/Shit! Where is it?/
- Are you looking for this?
Mizuki raised his eyes. How come had Yûta being able to enter without him noticing?
Ho, forget that, Yûta had the key, of course.
And now he was there, all smiling and seemingly happy of his very bad joke, a wish card in his hand.
Back on his feet, frowning, Mizuki took the card from Yûta.
- What are you doing here?, he asked, for Yûta should have been at training at this hour.
- Well, just checking if you were all right, Mizuki-san, answered the boy, grinning.
Mizuki hated this when Yûta was going all controlled and happy, especially when he was not. When did he begin to act so easy around him? He was becoming more and more like his brother, that was for sure, even if he still had this little naivety that would never be associated to Shuusuke Fuji.
- And what this consideration brings me?, asked Mizuki, holding the card high.
- Just see it! It won’t eat you.
Yûta let himself fall on the couch, grabbing a biscuit. He was used to Mizuki’s behaviour. They were together for more than four years now (after their yes-no relationship they had in junior high), so it was normal. Mizuki will just hiss and fuss for a time, then read the card, and then… Well, it would go as it always goes between them. For sure Mizuki had gathered lots of data of all junior tennis players when he was in junior high and in high, but Yûta was pretty sure than he was the one who had the best data of Mizuki.
There was silence, and then a shadow covered Yûta.
- What’s this?
Yûta didn’t even raise his eyes to see Mizuki holding the card and its contents just in front of his face.
- Well, he answered. I couldn’t figure what to offer you, since you always take present more or less badly, and since I really have no taste to buy you clothes or stuff like that. So here. Got this idea. What do you think?
- What I think?
Mizuki stared at the two tickets that were glued to the card. Then stared at his boyfriend. His infantile, childish, naïve boyfriend.
- SeaWorld?
- Yeah!
Yûta rose from his seat, taking Mizuki’s hand in his, all smiling.
- SeaWorld! I know you have nothing programmed for next Sunday, and, luckily, I’m free too! The game against Hyôtei has been reported. So I thought ‘bout that.
He frowned a bit :
- It’s not like it’s a rich French restaurant or some opera like you love. But, maybe it’ll be good to have some time together... with the dolphins and so...
- I’ve always thought that dolphins were just fucking little idiots that are just able to jump and smile to get candies...
- Er… And you don’t like exotic fishes?, asked Yûta hesitantly.
- Well..., Mizuki reflected: I do like exotic fishes.
- Yeah, I knew it, it’s coloured and bright and all this!
- I’m not one to like just bright and coloured things, Yûta-kun!
- Er… Yeah, yeah… I mean, they’re more interesting than dolphins for sure!
Mizuki sighed. There was absolutely no ways he could go against Yûta’s stubbornness. The boy (not so boy now) was as stubborn as he was. And he was still holding his hands with his’. They were warm and protective, much bigger then his’. Him, Mizuki Hajime, being protected by this brat? Only in his thoughts. Never ever would someone know about this!
- Well, Yûta-kun, he said taking his purring voice, the one that sent Yûta little sparks of electricity even after all this time.
- Yeah, Mizuki-san? He answered with a little gulp.
- There’s something I like more than exotic fishes.
- And this is?
Mizuki stood on his toe, for Yûta was bigger than him, especially after he gained 20 more centimetres in the past years. He let his breath caress his boyfriend’s skin, just under his left eyes.
- I really liked the thing you wrote on the card, Yûta-kun, he murmured.
- Really? Which sentence? The one with “Happy Birthday and I’ll bring you purple roses next time”?
Mizuki shook his head slowly, smiling :
- No, the other one.
Mimicking Mizuki, Yûta’s mouth began to lower towards his own.
- Oh, you talked about this one. What was I saying in it? I don’t remember.
Mizuki’s hands left their restraints to catch Yûta’s shoulders, and he raised a little more, his mouth brushing against Yûta’s ear. He then murmured something, so silently only Yûta heard it. The young man smiled then, grabbing Mizuki’s waist almost tenderly :
- Yeah. Happy birthday, Mizuki-san.
owari~~
Here's my second yummi fic in English. Hope you'll appreciate it.
Title: Exotic Fishes
Rating: G
Genre: Fluffly, again.
Pairing: Yuuta/Mizuki
Advert: I wrote this one for Mizuki's birthday and for magnolia_ceres. Same as last one, English is not my first langage, so it may have lots of faults in there.
So that was it. He had foreseen it, in a way, but not in these proportions.
Mizuki Hajime, now a newly 18 years-old aged student, had lived on his own for now two months. It has been a sort of obligation: St-Rudolph ‘s College was not providing the studies he wanted to do (European literature), and so, he had to go to another college, thus leaving behind him all the things that has been his life since he was 11.
With his sister’s help, he had so found a pretty small apartment, 20 minutes far from the college. Eventually, he had decorated it with some creamy wallpapers and purple furniture. It was even better than in his former dorm (where in fact Atsushi had developed a strange allergy to all things purple, leaving Mizuki with no choice but throw away his favourite pillow)
So, all things resumed, Mizuki found himself, on this Thursday afternoon, sitting across his small table, a pile of letters and package put before him.
/So, haven’t I solemnly declared four years ago that I didn’t want any celebration for my birthday?/, thought Mizuki.
He got up to prepare some tea and biscuits. The day had been damn hard, what with the surprise test their teacher of French literature had given them in the morning (at 8.00... what healthy teenager or student would be intellectually awake to have a test this early anyway?), so Mizuki had all rights to have some biscuits, even if they were damn expensive and only there for celebrations.
All in all, Mizuki was in a bad mood, for the test he failed, the fact it was his birthday, and the letters. And the bills too, as he saw some official envelops in the pill.
/Damn? Is it so expensive to take a bath everyday?/
Mizuki quickly threw away the bills and concentrated on the other stuff.
First there was a package. A small one, wrapped in some cheap brown paper. Mizuki was pretty sure to know from whom it came from.
/Only him could have a so ridiculous idea/, he thought when he saw the little tape that was contained in the package.
Mizuki put the tape in his recorder and listened. It was some old traditional Japanese song, about cherry tree that had so beautiful flowers and the sun so bright, and bla and bla and bla... It was not a bad song, and it was even not bad singing. But this kind of songs, Mizuki remembered listening to it since he was a little child, only able to cry and drink milk from his mother’s breast. And even this particular type of songs (about spring and cherry and flowers) was only sung on his birthday.
Mizuki remembered this special day (he was celebrating his 7th birthday). All his family had been in some feast, in his native city. And then, at the end of the lunch (which was quite good, even for the difficult child he had been), his father had gone to the small platform, taken a mike and sung for his only son birthday. God, hadn’t it been the most shameful day of his life!
/Father has always bad taste for presents./
But Mizuki didn’t stop the tape. Eating another biscuit, he began reading the first letter. It was from his mother, wishing him good luck and wishes for his studies, asking him to return home for holydays. Every year she would ask for him, but every year since his 13th he would decline. Mizuki hated his native town, hated family meetings. He visited his family once in a while, not for long, and was always grateful to all gods that existed when he returned finally safely to Tokyo.
Then there was his grand-mother’s letter, with a present. He had always loved his grand-mother, perhaps for the fact that, even living in a rural world for all her life, she was always acting like an aristocrat. Or so he had always remembered and would always remember her. The present was some Chinese tea leaves, for she knew he liked them. /For your collection/, she said in the letter.
Unconsciously, Mizuki was starting to appreciate these little gifts that he discovered letters after letters. His biscuits were soon left untouched, his tea growing cold.
There was his sister’s card, elegant, certainly bought in some expensive bookmark, since she knew all of her little brother’s tastes. Along with the card was a drawing of his nephew. Mizuki was not the kind of uncle that was all fluffy with kids. Absolutely not. He hated kids. But his nephew (and only his nephew) was an exception. He wouldn’t go as far as playing with him, but he would certainly thank him for the drawing. After all, if a kid this age was able to draw a man with a rose shirt and purple jeans, he should give him high hopes for his future!
His second sister had sent him a card on her own too, with regards from his brother-in-law and a tiny bad written signature in hiragana from his niece. Perhaps he should accept their invitation to go visit them on his next holydays. He had never seen his niece, and he had heard that onsen in Yokohama were not that bad. Perhaps this winter.
Then Mizuki opened another envelop.
Oh God...
Had he never told Akazawa to never let Dane chose the card? It was horrible, even in Mizuki point of view. He had never known that light yellow and bright purple could be that bad together.
Or perhaps Dane was really thinking he has this bad taste?
Mizuki’s hand searched blindly for the next letter he was sure to receive.
Er...
Perhaps...
Perhaps it had fallen under the table, or in his bag.
Mizuki searched for some time, growing impatient and angry. Yes, he was a little instable in his temper, but it was really justifiable. After all, why the most important person for him (even if he denied this on a regular basis) would have forgotten his birthday? Not that he cared. He didn’t care for his birthday after all. It was just some stupid feast only here to let his father humiliate him and his sisters make his family’s instincts go all alive and so on.
/Shit! Where is it?/
- Are you looking for this?
Mizuki raised his eyes. How come had Yûta being able to enter without him noticing?
Ho, forget that, Yûta had the key, of course.
And now he was there, all smiling and seemingly happy of his very bad joke, a wish card in his hand.
Back on his feet, frowning, Mizuki took the card from Yûta.
- What are you doing here?, he asked, for Yûta should have been at training at this hour.
- Well, just checking if you were all right, Mizuki-san, answered the boy, grinning.
Mizuki hated this when Yûta was going all controlled and happy, especially when he was not. When did he begin to act so easy around him? He was becoming more and more like his brother, that was for sure, even if he still had this little naivety that would never be associated to Shuusuke Fuji.
- And what this consideration brings me?, asked Mizuki, holding the card high.
- Just see it! It won’t eat you.
Yûta let himself fall on the couch, grabbing a biscuit. He was used to Mizuki’s behaviour. They were together for more than four years now (after their yes-no relationship they had in junior high), so it was normal. Mizuki will just hiss and fuss for a time, then read the card, and then… Well, it would go as it always goes between them. For sure Mizuki had gathered lots of data of all junior tennis players when he was in junior high and in high, but Yûta was pretty sure than he was the one who had the best data of Mizuki.
There was silence, and then a shadow covered Yûta.
- What’s this?
Yûta didn’t even raise his eyes to see Mizuki holding the card and its contents just in front of his face.
- Well, he answered. I couldn’t figure what to offer you, since you always take present more or less badly, and since I really have no taste to buy you clothes or stuff like that. So here. Got this idea. What do you think?
- What I think?
Mizuki stared at the two tickets that were glued to the card. Then stared at his boyfriend. His infantile, childish, naïve boyfriend.
- SeaWorld?
- Yeah!
Yûta rose from his seat, taking Mizuki’s hand in his, all smiling.
- SeaWorld! I know you have nothing programmed for next Sunday, and, luckily, I’m free too! The game against Hyôtei has been reported. So I thought ‘bout that.
He frowned a bit :
- It’s not like it’s a rich French restaurant or some opera like you love. But, maybe it’ll be good to have some time together... with the dolphins and so...
- I’ve always thought that dolphins were just fucking little idiots that are just able to jump and smile to get candies...
- Er… And you don’t like exotic fishes?, asked Yûta hesitantly.
- Well..., Mizuki reflected: I do like exotic fishes.
- Yeah, I knew it, it’s coloured and bright and all this!
- I’m not one to like just bright and coloured things, Yûta-kun!
- Er… Yeah, yeah… I mean, they’re more interesting than dolphins for sure!
Mizuki sighed. There was absolutely no ways he could go against Yûta’s stubbornness. The boy (not so boy now) was as stubborn as he was. And he was still holding his hands with his’. They were warm and protective, much bigger then his’. Him, Mizuki Hajime, being protected by this brat? Only in his thoughts. Never ever would someone know about this!
- Well, Yûta-kun, he said taking his purring voice, the one that sent Yûta little sparks of electricity even after all this time.
- Yeah, Mizuki-san? He answered with a little gulp.
- There’s something I like more than exotic fishes.
- And this is?
Mizuki stood on his toe, for Yûta was bigger than him, especially after he gained 20 more centimetres in the past years. He let his breath caress his boyfriend’s skin, just under his left eyes.
- I really liked the thing you wrote on the card, Yûta-kun, he murmured.
- Really? Which sentence? The one with “Happy Birthday and I’ll bring you purple roses next time”?
Mizuki shook his head slowly, smiling :
- No, the other one.
Mimicking Mizuki, Yûta’s mouth began to lower towards his own.
- Oh, you talked about this one. What was I saying in it? I don’t remember.
Mizuki’s hands left their restraints to catch Yûta’s shoulders, and he raised a little more, his mouth brushing against Yûta’s ear. He then murmured something, so silently only Yûta heard it. The young man smiled then, grabbing Mizuki’s waist almost tenderly :
- Yeah. Happy birthday, Mizuki-san.
owari~~