Holiday Drabbles Set 002 [DOLLs, Prince of Tennis, Kyou Kara Maou, xxxHOLiC]
Title: and night doth nightly make grief’s strength seem stronger
Author: doumeki
Fandom: DOLLs
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Character Study
Characters: Seijuu, Usaki, Igarashi
Wordcount: 644
Disclaimer: Not mine. NAKED APE owns all.
Author's Notes: A gift for the sadistic aoyagi. Enjoy my first attempt at DOLLs fic. Hopefully, it’s not too horrid? [prompts: waiting, leaving the past behind, brutal honesty]
Shouta-kun leaves quickly Christmas Eve after giving Seijuu and Usaki-kun the night off. Seijuu suspects that Shouta-kun is running to meet Tamao-san, though he doesn’t have any proof, and he knows better than to ask Shouta-kun; Shouta-kun prefers to keep his private life private unless there is no way to avoid it.
Seijuu looks out the window; the sun is setting, painting pink and blue hues across the sky. It hasn’t snowed quite as much this year as previous years, and it makes Seijuu a bit sad; he likes the snow, though he always sees red stains on the pure white background. Shouta-kun has told him that it’s unhealthy to focus on such events, and Seijuu agrees, but there isn’t much he can do. Letting go is much harder than living the way he does.
“Shibiku-fukutaichou?” Usaki-kun says, breaking Seijuu from his reverie. “I’ll be taking my leave.”
He looks at the newest member of their brigade and wonders what Usaki-kun thinks of them. He hasn’t spent any time with Usaki-kun, doesn’t know anything about him save what he has been able to piece together on his own. He thinks Shouta-kun knows more, but he hasn’t pressed for details.
Usaki-kun seems to be waiting for Seijuu to speak, so he replies, “I’ll walk you home.”
“That won’t be necessary, Vice-Captain,” Usaki-kun states. “I’m not on my way home.”
Seijuu grins. “Going to meet with your girlfriend?”
Usaki-kun shakes his head. “No, I’m going to… visit someone,” he says, faltering in the middle.
“Oh.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Usaki-kun says, bowing slightly and leaving.
Seijuu watches him go. He looks out the window again once Usaki-kun shuts the door, and the sky is black. One day, he dreams of looking out the window and seeing nothing, feeling nothing. He stands and leaves the office.
Igarashi is waiting in the lobby for him when he exits the elevator. “Need a lift?”
He nods, and Igarashi leads him outside. The get in the car, and Igarashi directs the driver before rolling up the privacy glass.
“You look like shit,” Igarashi says promptly, and Seijuu smiles.
“I haven’t been sleeping,” he explains, though it’s not an explanation so much as an excuse.
“I know that,” Igarashi scoffs. “You need to take the damn pills if you can’t sleep. Mikoshiba is going to have my ass if he finds out about this.”
“Shouta-kun has better things to worry about,” Seijuu says dismissively. “So long as it doesn’t interfere with the job, I’m free to do as I see fit.”
Igarashi looks at him. “Bullshit.”
Seijuu shrugs.
“Are you waiting for someone to get the better of you?” Igarashi demands. “Because that’s what’s going to happen if you keep playing these damn games. You need to sleep; your body won’t hold out forever and you know it.”
The car slows to a stop, and the front door opens. Seijuu is suddenly alert as the driver circles the car to let him out.
He fingers his wire under his sleeve and waits. Igarashi must sense something, as well, because the other man is quiet, hand on his cell phone.
The door opens, and the driver motions Seijuu out. He says his goodbyes to Igarashi, and exits. He is two steps out the door before he has to dodge the blade aimed at his back. Quickly, he turns around, wire at the ready, and tumbles to the left, knocking the driver’s legs out from under him.
The driver falls to the floor, and Seijuu has his wire around the man’s neck. It takes a moment to recognize the man, but as soon as identification is confirmed, the man is dead.
Seijuu stands and recoils his wire, the blood staining his hands. “Good night, Igarashi,” he says politely, and walks to the building entrance, trusting the other man to dispose of the body.
Title: or some fierce thing replete with too much rage
Author: doumeki
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humor
Characters: Marui, Niou, Yagyuu, Jackal, Yukimura
Wordcount: 725
Disclaimer: Not mine. Konomi Takeshi owns all. There is no way I’d prelude a series with 42 volumes.
Author's Notes: A gift for the lovely whisper132. Enjoy, dear. ♥ I tried for lots of snark, though I think I failed. ^^;; [prompts: doubles jealousy, cheating off tests, rumblings on the court]
It really pisses Bunta off when Niou shows up in his class in place of Yagyuu. The teachers don’t notice - Niou is a great actor, after all - but Bunta notices. One day, he knows Niou is going to get caught, and then somehow Bunta is going to get in trouble.
“Oi, Marui,” Niou whispers. “Let me see your test.”
“Do your own work, Yagyuu,” Bunta sneers. There is no way Yagyuu would agree to switch on a test day if Niou didn’t know the answers. “And stop talking to me. We’re going to get in trouble. Again.”
Niou rolls his eyes and leans over further, craning his neck to see Bunta’s test. “Come on,” Niou cajoles.
“Fuck off,” Bunta hisses.
“Is there a problem, Marui-kun, Yagyuu-kun?” the teacher asks, staring at them.
“Marui-kun was trying to cheat off my test,” Niou replies promptly, Yagyuu-personality in place.
“What?” Bunta shrieks. “You’re the one leaning over my desk!”
“Marui-kun, Yagyuu-kun, please hand in your tests,” the teacher says.
Bunta gathers his stuff, hands in his test, and stalks out of the room, Niou on his heels.
“Hey, Marui,” Niou says, mussing his hair. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
“Go fuck yourself, Niou,” Bunta replies scathingly. Damnit, he really needed to ace that test to keep his A. His mother is going to kill him, and possibly ban him from playing tennis.
And then Yukimura will kill him.
+++
Yagyuu is in a rage when Bunta enters the locker room after school. Niou is on the other side of the room, tail between his legs. Bunta stalks to his locker, jerks it open, and changes quickly.
“Marui-kun,” Yagyuu says after they have finished running their laps, “would you care to partner with me today?”
Niou is looking at them, shocked. Bunta smiles. “Sure.”
Behind him, he hears Jackal sigh before grabbing Niou and walking to the other end of the practice court.
+++
Bunta and Yagyuu have been paired together for a week, and there are all sorts of rumors flying on the courts now, ranging from slightly true to ridiculously outrageous.
He’s particularly fond of being the Angelina Jolie in the triangle, though.
“Fer cryin’ out loud, Yagyuu,” Niou is saying. “How long can you be mad at me?”
Yagyuu glares.
“Fine. Jackal is a better partner than you anyway. At least he has a sense of humor.”
Jackal looks pained, and Bunta has a moment of sympathy for his partner, but he’s still pissed at Niou. His mom took away all of his sweets and his video games. He barely got to keep tennis by promising to talk to the teacher and get some extra credit.
Yukimura walks onto the court and everyone is suddenly quiet. Bunta picks up the ball and serves at Niou’s head.
+++
Yukimura calls them to attention ten minutes before practice is over. Bunta can tell by the smile on the captain’s face that they were in for a hell of a lashing.
He goes over the usual end of practice business before dismissing the team and asking Niou, Yagyuu, and Bunta to stay behind.
“I don’t know what is going on,” Yukimura begins, “but I expect it to be over by morning practice.” With that, Yukimura leaves, Sanada trailing behind him.
Niou looks at them and sighs. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll hack the system and change your grades.”
Bunta scoffs. “I can do that myself, and I wouldn’t leave a trail.”
Niou is glaring. “Then what the hell do you want me to do? Huh?”
Yagyuu’s glasses glint.
+++
The next morning at practice, Niou shows up in costume.
He flops at Yagyuu’s feet and begs for forgiveness, wagging his ass in the air. Bunta feels oddly like he’s watching a fetish porno, but he isn’t going to argue. As much he respects Yagyuu, Niou is right; Jackal is more fun.
Yagyuu forgives him just as Yukimura walks onto the courts. Sanada looks like he’s going to burst a blood vessel, and Yukimura just looks amused.
“Now that things are back to normal,” Yukimura announces, “seventy five laps. Begin.”
Bunta sighs and starts running.
“Hey, Bunta,” Jackal says, jogging next to him. “After practice tonight, wanna stop by the bakery?”
“You buying?”
Jackal rolls his eyes. “Yeah.”
Bunta grins. I guess things are back to normal, he thinks.
Title: and that unfair which fairly doth excel
Author: doumeki
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humour
Characters: Anissina/Gwendal/Gunther
Wordcount: 1,081
Disclaimer: Not mine. Takabayashi Tomo owns all. Though I wouldn’t mind owning Gwendal. Just sayin’.
Author's Notes: A gift for the beautiful chaineddove. Enjoy it, sweetheart. ♥ I love you. And I apologize for the utter fail that this turned out to be, but I warned you: I suck at KKM. [prompts: knitted hats (with pom poms), spiked drinks, what’s plan B?]
It starts out innocently enough. Yuuri is sitting in his office, poring over the paperwork that Gwendal has insisted the Maou needs to go through, not him, when Anissina bursts into the office and makes a beeline toward the desk.
“Heika,” she says, very seriously, in a tone that Gwendal knows very well and is very afraid of, “I need you to sign this document.”
“What document?” Yuuri asks cautiously, taking the paper from Anissina’s hand.
Gwendal moves to grab the document from him, but Anissina grabs his wrist. “Now, now, Gwendal,” she says sweetly, “That would spoil the surprise.” She looks back at Yuuri. “Sign the paper, Heika.”
Yuuri reads over it, and Gwendal can tell that whatever it is, it is not a good idea. “Um, Anissina-san, I’m not sure-” he begins, but Anissina cuts him off.
“I could always tell Wolfram about what happened in town last week,” she threatens with a smile.
Yuuri picks up the pen and scribbles his name. Anissina smiles, takes the document before Gwendal can grab it, and leaves.
+++
Greta finds him later and throws her arms around him. “Congratulations, Gwendal!” she squeals, before taking off through the hall.
Gwendal watches her go, wondering what she is congratulating him for. He has an idea that it has to do with whatever insanity Anissina is planning, which he'd stop, if he knew what it was.
Gunther is charging down the hall now, heading straight for Gwendal. “Gwendal,” he cries, throwing his arms around Gwendal’s shoulders.
Gwendal senses it's becoming a trend.
“Have you heard?” Gunther cries, looking him straight in the eyes.
“Heard what?” he asks, pulling away and pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off his headache.
“We’re getting married,” Gunther sobs.
The budding headache becomes a full fledged migraine.
+++
“Anissina!” Gwendal bellows, throwing open the door to her lab. He finds her half-undressed, glaring at him. “We need to talk.”
“Excuse me,” she says, motioning to her half-nakedness. “I’m trying on my dress.”
“What is this about Gunther and I getting married?”
Anissina looks at him as though he’s grown an extra head, which hasn’t happened since the last time he drank one of her potions. “You both will be marrying me.”
“Are you out of your mind?” he asks, incredulous. “I am not marrying you! Neither is Gunther! It’s not even legal!”
“Ah, but it is,” she tells him. “Heika made it legal this morning.”
Gwendal knew it. “You can’t threaten him every time you want one of your insane projects legalized, Anissina.”
“Oh, but you love me, Gwendal, and so does Gunther. And you’re both my favorite test subjects,” she adds. “The wedding is tomorrow. Try running and your mother will not be pleased.”
Gwendal leaves, slamming the door behind him.
+++
The next morning, Gwendal and Gunther are mounting their horses, ready to make their escape. They would have tried the night before, but Anissina and his mother wouldn’t leave them alone, going so far as to have a sleepover in Gwendal’s room.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Gwendal?” Gunther asks, looking around cautiously. “Cheri-sama is going to be looking for us any minute.”
“And we’ll be gone,” Gwendal asserts. “Let’s go.”
They make it as far as five miles out of town when Anissina appears in the middle of the road. “So kind of you to make it on time,” she says sweetly.
Conrart and Densham appear at their sides to help them down and drag them to their doom.
“It won’t be that bad,” Conrart tries to tell him. “After all, it really won’t change anything.”
Gwendal glares witheringly. Conrart smiles back.
“Gwennie!” Cheri calls out, waving him and Conrart over. “I have your suit.”
Gwendal wishes that someone would attack. It happens at every other ceremony, so why not his wedding?
+++
Yuuri is bumbling through the ceremony, and there hasn’t even been the hint of an attack on the horizon.
“What’s plan B?” Gunther whispers.
Anissina glares menacingly at them both before Gwendal can reply.
Ten minutes later, Yuuri pronounces them man, man, and wife.
“Happily is optional,” Gwendal mutters.
Anissina stomps on his foot with a happy smile before kissing them both.
+++
Conrart and Josak take the horses back to the castle while Gwendal and Gunther ride back with Anissina.
Gunther is sobbing in the corner of the carriage, lamenting the fact that he could not save himself for Yuuri, while Gwendal is nursing a headache.
“Cheer up,” Anissina tells them. She is beaming, happy and aglow. Gwendal wishes her ill.
“Why would you do this, Anissina?” he asks.
“Oniisan has been bugging me about marrying you ever since that whole arranged marriage fiasco, and then he heard about that incident a few months back where he saw you holding hands with Gunther, so he asked if we were all dating or if you were cheating on me.”
Gwendal stares at her wide-eyed.
“I figured this was the simplest solution. Besides, it’s not like either of you planned on getting married, anyway. And now, because of our vows, you guys are my eternal test subjects.” She looks beyond happy with herself.
“Heika,” Gunther sobs loudly.
Gwendal wants to kill something.
+++
The reception is painful. Everyone is fluttering around them, congratulating them, wishing them well, and all Gwendal wants to do is run, but Anissina has a firm grasp on both his and Gunther’s hands.
They are opening presents - well, Anissina is opening them - when Greta runs up and hands him and Gunther each a wrapped package. Gwendal thanks her, and carefully opens the gift.
Inside is a bright green knitted hat with a silver pom pom on top. Gunther’s is silver with a bright green pom pom.
Greta is looking at them hopefully, so Gwendal puts his hat on and tries to smile. It comes out more like a grimace.
“You look good, Gwendal. Stunning, Gunther,” Anissina says seriously, though her eyes are twinkling in amusement. She hands them each a drink, which Gwendal accepts warily. “I didn’t spike it,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Honest.”
Gwendal knocks back the drink at the same time as Gunther takes a sip.
+++
They wake up the next morning wearing nothing but the hats. Anissina is standing over them in a knitted corset.
Gwendal’s mouth feels like a cottonfield.
“Where are we?” Gunther croaks.
Anissina grins. “Welcome to the honeymoon, boys.”
Title: for thee and for myself no quiet find
Author: doumeki
Fandom: xxxHOLiC
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Back Story
Characters: Watanuki, Doumeki
Wordcount: 950
Disclaimer: Not mine. CLAMP owns all. If I did, Clow would have more screentime and Subaru would have a happily ever after with Seishirou and Hokuto.
Author's Notes: A gift for the wonderful she_universe. ♥ Enjoy! Hopefully, it’s not too dreadfully awful. [prompts: entrance exam, entrance ceremony, fight]
He is going to be late if he doesn’t hurry, he knows. He is sprinting down the street, jumping over uneven patches of sidewalk. It’s vaguely familiar, except there isn’t a ghost chomping at his ankles this time, so all in all, a better experience than when he went to take his entrance exams.
The school gate looms in the distance, and Kimihiro takes a moment to glance at his pocket watch. Fifteen minutes. He’ll be on time.
Thank god.
He is through the gates a minute later, and it takes him five minutes to locate the hall for the entrance ceremony.
Nine minutes left, he thinks.
He is almost at the door when he runs smack dab into someone, and they both go careening to the floor, the other person on top of him. Quickly, Kimihiro begins to extract himself, spewing apologies every few seconds.
The other person - guy - doesn’t say anything, just stands up. Doesn’t even offer Kimihiro a hand. Instead, he just turns around and keeps walking.
Kimihiro stands up and glares. A glance at the pocket watch informs him that he has three minutes to get inside and in place before he’s late, so he runs past the guy he bumped into and throws open the door to the hall, hastening to get to his seat without disrupting anyone.
He looks back to see the guy enter and take a seat near the front. Kimihiro shakes his head.
“Some people are rude,” he mutters. “I don’t have to think about them.”
The headmaster steps onto the stage and begins to address the incoming freshmen and their parents, and Kimihiro clears his head, forgetting about the rude jerk in the third seat, two rows back from the front of the stage.
+++
Everyone is milling around outside, saying goodbye to their parents before they file into their classrooms to begin the school year. Kimihiro walks along the outskirts, doing his best to not disturb anyone as he makes his way to class.
He is mostly away from the crowd when he runs into that guy again, but this time, they both keep their balance.
Kimihiro takes a deep breath and apologizes. Again. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t see you there.”
The other guy raises an eyebrow, but remains quiet.
Kimihiro clenches his fists. “I said I’m sorry, you jerk. Or can’t you hear?”
“Noisy,” the other guy says, plugging his ears.
“Why you…” Kimihiro growls. “Do you think it’s okay to be a rude asshole? Huh? Just accept the damn apology.”
“Don’t you ever shut up?”
“That is it!” Kimihiro screams, and takes a swing at the other guy, who dodges it easily. Not to be outmaneuvered, Kimihiro kicks him in the stomach, and the guy doubles over.
He is about to kick the rude guy again, when his leg is caught and he’s hurtling towards the ground.
Kimihiro doesn’t quite remember what happens next; all he knows is that he’s suddenly being held back by one of the teachers, screaming at the top of his lungs at the other guy, who is also being restrained, though it doesn’t look like it’s taking much effort to keep him back. He’s just staring at Kimihiro with an annoyed expression and rubbing his jaw.
+++
“I’m sorry,” he tells the teacher. “I don’t know what came over me.”
The teacher looks at him skeptically. “Fine, but fighting is not permissible on this campus, Watanuki-kun,” the teacher says, and Kimihiro nods.
“You should apologize to Doumeki-kun, as well, and then get to class.”
Kimihiro stands and bows before leaving the room. Doumeki is standing out in the hallway, and Kimihiro clenches his teeth. “I’m sorry. I was out of line.”
Doumeki raises an eyebrow, and Kimihiro checks the urge to punch the damned eyebrow off of Doumeki’s smug face.
“Since you clearly don’t know how to talk,” Kimihiro sneers, “I’m going to class.”
He gets about ten steps before he turns around. Doumeki runs into him. “Oh my god,” Kimihiro hisses, “will you please watch where you are going?”
Doumeki blinks and rubs his chin, which had run into Kimihiro’s forehead. “It’s your fault,” Doumeki says evenly.
Kimihiro’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”
“You stopped,” Doumeki says, sounding as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Well, I’m so damn sorry for stopping. Clearly, it couldn’t be your fault for following me in the first damn place!”
“I was going to class,” Doumeki points out. “It’s that way.”
“Argh!” Kimihiro screams, stomping off.
If he never has to see that jerk again, it will be too soon, he thinks, trudging to class.
+++
He makes it the rest of the day without running into Doumeki, which is perhaps the only good thing about his first day of school. He has a mountain of homework to do, and he has to sew seam on the shoulder of his jacket, which split when he raised his hand during history.
He stops by the temple on his way home to pray for his parents and the ghost boy he met two years ago. He is ringing the bell when he senses a presence. He looks up, expecting to find the temple priest, but instead finds Doumeki.
“Are you stalking me or something?” he shrieks, scrabbling to his feet and stepping back.
Doumeki rolls his eyes. “I live here,” he says, face blank.
“Oh.”
“Apology accepted,” Doumeki tells him, and walks off.
It takes a moment to register, but by the time it does, Doumeki is gone.
“Bastard!” he yells. “You should be the one apologizing!”
This year, Kimihiro decides as he stomps off towards home, is going to suck.
Title: are both with thee, wherever I abide
Author: doumeki
Fandom: xxxHOLiC
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Post-series
Characters: Himawari/Watanuki/Doumeki
Wordcount: 781
Disclaimer: Not mine. CLAMP owns all. If I did, Clow would have more screentime and Subaru would have a happily ever after with Seishirou and Hokuto.
Author's Notes: A gift for the wonderful vicious_lullaby. ♥ Enjoy! Hopefully, it’s not too dreadfully awful. [prompts: mittens, candles, anything from this poem]
It has become tradition that he makes them gloves for the winter holidays. He doesn’t mind; the knitting is soothing, and he has long since become adept at knitting patterns from the yarn into the design. This year, Shizuka - it’s still so odd to refer to him as that, Kimihiro thinks, even though they’ve been… whatever they’ve been for the better part of three years - has midnight blue gloves with a silver arrow, and Himawari-chan has pale pink mittens with a small bird.
They meet at Shizuka’s temple, and Kimihiro pauses to pray and ring the bell for Haruka-san before he enters the main house. Shizuka’s parents are out of town, so the living room is lit by candles, and there is a pot of tea sitting on the table, three cups sitting nestled together next to the teapot. He puts down the wrapped gloves and picks up Himawari-chan’s cup, remembering when Shizuka gave it to her three Christmases ago.
She had been raving about an English poem that they had translated in class, and Shizuka had gotten a black teacup and written part of the poem in his steady hand.
I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center
He places the cup back on the table and looks around. Shizuka is nowhere to be seen, so Kimihiro makes his way toward the back of the house, towards Shizuka’s room. He finds Himawari-chan curled up on the futon, fingers curled toward her body. He leans over and kisses her temple before retreating.
He finds Shizuka out back, bow in hand.
What are you doing? Kimihiro asks, sitting on the porch.
Practicing, Shizuka replies.
Kimihiro nods, and Shizuka sits down next to him. Himawari-chan is already asleep, Kimihiro says softly. It’s cold, so Kimihiro scoots closer.
She came early to help, Shizuka explains. She looked tired, so I told her to take a nap.
Ah.
Shizuka stands. Let’s go, he says, and offers Kimihiro a hand up.
Kimihiro accepts it, and they enter the house, his hand still clasped in Shizuka’s.
I thought you were here, Himawari-chan says. She is sitting up on the futon, looking at them bleary eyed. She moves to stand, and Shizuka and Kimihiro are at her side, each taking an arm. She leans more on Shizuka than Kimihiro, and Kimihiro can’t help but feel a pang of hurt; it’s been years, and he is capable of taking care of himself now.
But he knows, more than others, that old habits are hard to break.
They are in the living room, and Himawari-chan is pouring their tea. Shizuka is handing out gifts, and Kimihiro is distributing the cakes he made the day before. They sip their tea and eat the cakes, chatting quietly. The candlelight makes it hard to see more than features, but they both look happy, and that’s all Kimihiro really cares about.
Himawari-chan opens her presents first and coos over the mittens, trying them on. Shizuka bought her a scarf in a warm yellow, and she thanks them both profusely.
Shizuka goes next, opening Himawari-chan’s gift first.
Your current glove looks like it’s going to fall apart, she tells him when he holds up the archery glove.
Thank you, he says quietly, and opens Kimihiro’s gift. The gloves fit perfectly, for which Kimihiro is grateful; last year, they were a bit small.
It’s Kimihiro’s turn, and he opens his present carefully. Himawari-chan and Shizuka went in on a joint gift, and he peels the paper away slowly. Inside is a new blender and an Italian cookbook.
Mokona-chan broke the one at the shop, Himawari-chan explains. And you were saying you wanted to learn some new recipes.
Thank you, Kimihiro says, touched.
Gelato, Shizuka says, carefully pronouncing the foreign word.
Now? Kimihiro asks, baffled.
Shizuka nods.
Kimihiro throws the wrapping paper at him.
Himawari-chan watches them and laughs happily.
Kimihiro smiles, nudging Shizuka in the ribs and scolding him for demanding food when he is perfectly capable of making it himself, after all the lessons he gave Shizuka last year, thank you very much.
The candles are starting to burn out by the time their eyes begin to droop. Shizuka ushers them into his room and lays out two extra futons right next to his while Himawari-chan and Kimihiro change into pajamas.
Kimihiro gets a candle from Shizuka’s drawer and places it in the window, and lights it for Yuuko-san.
They lay down next to each other and drift into sleep, the glow of the candle watching over them.
Author: doumeki
Fandom: DOLLs
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Character Study
Characters: Seijuu, Usaki, Igarashi
Wordcount: 644
Disclaimer: Not mine. NAKED APE owns all.
Author's Notes: A gift for the sadistic aoyagi. Enjoy my first attempt at DOLLs fic. Hopefully, it’s not too horrid? [prompts: waiting, leaving the past behind, brutal honesty]
Shouta-kun leaves quickly Christmas Eve after giving Seijuu and Usaki-kun the night off. Seijuu suspects that Shouta-kun is running to meet Tamao-san, though he doesn’t have any proof, and he knows better than to ask Shouta-kun; Shouta-kun prefers to keep his private life private unless there is no way to avoid it.
Seijuu looks out the window; the sun is setting, painting pink and blue hues across the sky. It hasn’t snowed quite as much this year as previous years, and it makes Seijuu a bit sad; he likes the snow, though he always sees red stains on the pure white background. Shouta-kun has told him that it’s unhealthy to focus on such events, and Seijuu agrees, but there isn’t much he can do. Letting go is much harder than living the way he does.
“Shibiku-fukutaichou?” Usaki-kun says, breaking Seijuu from his reverie. “I’ll be taking my leave.”
He looks at the newest member of their brigade and wonders what Usaki-kun thinks of them. He hasn’t spent any time with Usaki-kun, doesn’t know anything about him save what he has been able to piece together on his own. He thinks Shouta-kun knows more, but he hasn’t pressed for details.
Usaki-kun seems to be waiting for Seijuu to speak, so he replies, “I’ll walk you home.”
“That won’t be necessary, Vice-Captain,” Usaki-kun states. “I’m not on my way home.”
Seijuu grins. “Going to meet with your girlfriend?”
Usaki-kun shakes his head. “No, I’m going to… visit someone,” he says, faltering in the middle.
“Oh.”
“If you’ll excuse me,” Usaki-kun says, bowing slightly and leaving.
Seijuu watches him go. He looks out the window again once Usaki-kun shuts the door, and the sky is black. One day, he dreams of looking out the window and seeing nothing, feeling nothing. He stands and leaves the office.
Igarashi is waiting in the lobby for him when he exits the elevator. “Need a lift?”
He nods, and Igarashi leads him outside. The get in the car, and Igarashi directs the driver before rolling up the privacy glass.
“You look like shit,” Igarashi says promptly, and Seijuu smiles.
“I haven’t been sleeping,” he explains, though it’s not an explanation so much as an excuse.
“I know that,” Igarashi scoffs. “You need to take the damn pills if you can’t sleep. Mikoshiba is going to have my ass if he finds out about this.”
“Shouta-kun has better things to worry about,” Seijuu says dismissively. “So long as it doesn’t interfere with the job, I’m free to do as I see fit.”
Igarashi looks at him. “Bullshit.”
Seijuu shrugs.
“Are you waiting for someone to get the better of you?” Igarashi demands. “Because that’s what’s going to happen if you keep playing these damn games. You need to sleep; your body won’t hold out forever and you know it.”
The car slows to a stop, and the front door opens. Seijuu is suddenly alert as the driver circles the car to let him out.
He fingers his wire under his sleeve and waits. Igarashi must sense something, as well, because the other man is quiet, hand on his cell phone.
The door opens, and the driver motions Seijuu out. He says his goodbyes to Igarashi, and exits. He is two steps out the door before he has to dodge the blade aimed at his back. Quickly, he turns around, wire at the ready, and tumbles to the left, knocking the driver’s legs out from under him.
The driver falls to the floor, and Seijuu has his wire around the man’s neck. It takes a moment to recognize the man, but as soon as identification is confirmed, the man is dead.
Seijuu stands and recoils his wire, the blood staining his hands. “Good night, Igarashi,” he says politely, and walks to the building entrance, trusting the other man to dispose of the body.
Title: or some fierce thing replete with too much rage
Author: doumeki
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humor
Characters: Marui, Niou, Yagyuu, Jackal, Yukimura
Wordcount: 725
Disclaimer: Not mine. Konomi Takeshi owns all. There is no way I’d prelude a series with 42 volumes.
Author's Notes: A gift for the lovely whisper132. Enjoy, dear. ♥ I tried for lots of snark, though I think I failed. ^^;; [prompts: doubles jealousy, cheating off tests, rumblings on the court]
It really pisses Bunta off when Niou shows up in his class in place of Yagyuu. The teachers don’t notice - Niou is a great actor, after all - but Bunta notices. One day, he knows Niou is going to get caught, and then somehow Bunta is going to get in trouble.
“Oi, Marui,” Niou whispers. “Let me see your test.”
“Do your own work, Yagyuu,” Bunta sneers. There is no way Yagyuu would agree to switch on a test day if Niou didn’t know the answers. “And stop talking to me. We’re going to get in trouble. Again.”
Niou rolls his eyes and leans over further, craning his neck to see Bunta’s test. “Come on,” Niou cajoles.
“Fuck off,” Bunta hisses.
“Is there a problem, Marui-kun, Yagyuu-kun?” the teacher asks, staring at them.
“Marui-kun was trying to cheat off my test,” Niou replies promptly, Yagyuu-personality in place.
“What?” Bunta shrieks. “You’re the one leaning over my desk!”
“Marui-kun, Yagyuu-kun, please hand in your tests,” the teacher says.
Bunta gathers his stuff, hands in his test, and stalks out of the room, Niou on his heels.
“Hey, Marui,” Niou says, mussing his hair. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
“Go fuck yourself, Niou,” Bunta replies scathingly. Damnit, he really needed to ace that test to keep his A. His mother is going to kill him, and possibly ban him from playing tennis.
And then Yukimura will kill him.
+++
Yagyuu is in a rage when Bunta enters the locker room after school. Niou is on the other side of the room, tail between his legs. Bunta stalks to his locker, jerks it open, and changes quickly.
“Marui-kun,” Yagyuu says after they have finished running their laps, “would you care to partner with me today?”
Niou is looking at them, shocked. Bunta smiles. “Sure.”
Behind him, he hears Jackal sigh before grabbing Niou and walking to the other end of the practice court.
+++
Bunta and Yagyuu have been paired together for a week, and there are all sorts of rumors flying on the courts now, ranging from slightly true to ridiculously outrageous.
He’s particularly fond of being the Angelina Jolie in the triangle, though.
“Fer cryin’ out loud, Yagyuu,” Niou is saying. “How long can you be mad at me?”
Yagyuu glares.
“Fine. Jackal is a better partner than you anyway. At least he has a sense of humor.”
Jackal looks pained, and Bunta has a moment of sympathy for his partner, but he’s still pissed at Niou. His mom took away all of his sweets and his video games. He barely got to keep tennis by promising to talk to the teacher and get some extra credit.
Yukimura walks onto the court and everyone is suddenly quiet. Bunta picks up the ball and serves at Niou’s head.
+++
Yukimura calls them to attention ten minutes before practice is over. Bunta can tell by the smile on the captain’s face that they were in for a hell of a lashing.
He goes over the usual end of practice business before dismissing the team and asking Niou, Yagyuu, and Bunta to stay behind.
“I don’t know what is going on,” Yukimura begins, “but I expect it to be over by morning practice.” With that, Yukimura leaves, Sanada trailing behind him.
Niou looks at them and sighs. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll hack the system and change your grades.”
Bunta scoffs. “I can do that myself, and I wouldn’t leave a trail.”
Niou is glaring. “Then what the hell do you want me to do? Huh?”
Yagyuu’s glasses glint.
+++
The next morning at practice, Niou shows up in costume.
He flops at Yagyuu’s feet and begs for forgiveness, wagging his ass in the air. Bunta feels oddly like he’s watching a fetish porno, but he isn’t going to argue. As much he respects Yagyuu, Niou is right; Jackal is more fun.
Yagyuu forgives him just as Yukimura walks onto the courts. Sanada looks like he’s going to burst a blood vessel, and Yukimura just looks amused.
“Now that things are back to normal,” Yukimura announces, “seventy five laps. Begin.”
Bunta sighs and starts running.
“Hey, Bunta,” Jackal says, jogging next to him. “After practice tonight, wanna stop by the bakery?”
“You buying?”
Jackal rolls his eyes. “Yeah.”
Bunta grins. I guess things are back to normal, he thinks.
Title: and that unfair which fairly doth excel
Author: doumeki
Fandom: Kyou Kara Maou
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humour
Characters: Anissina/Gwendal/Gunther
Wordcount: 1,081
Disclaimer: Not mine. Takabayashi Tomo owns all. Though I wouldn’t mind owning Gwendal. Just sayin’.
Author's Notes: A gift for the beautiful chaineddove. Enjoy it, sweetheart. ♥ I love you. And I apologize for the utter fail that this turned out to be, but I warned you: I suck at KKM. [prompts: knitted hats (with pom poms), spiked drinks, what’s plan B?]
It starts out innocently enough. Yuuri is sitting in his office, poring over the paperwork that Gwendal has insisted the Maou needs to go through, not him, when Anissina bursts into the office and makes a beeline toward the desk.
“Heika,” she says, very seriously, in a tone that Gwendal knows very well and is very afraid of, “I need you to sign this document.”
“What document?” Yuuri asks cautiously, taking the paper from Anissina’s hand.
Gwendal moves to grab the document from him, but Anissina grabs his wrist. “Now, now, Gwendal,” she says sweetly, “That would spoil the surprise.” She looks back at Yuuri. “Sign the paper, Heika.”
Yuuri reads over it, and Gwendal can tell that whatever it is, it is not a good idea. “Um, Anissina-san, I’m not sure-” he begins, but Anissina cuts him off.
“I could always tell Wolfram about what happened in town last week,” she threatens with a smile.
Yuuri picks up the pen and scribbles his name. Anissina smiles, takes the document before Gwendal can grab it, and leaves.
+++
Greta finds him later and throws her arms around him. “Congratulations, Gwendal!” she squeals, before taking off through the hall.
Gwendal watches her go, wondering what she is congratulating him for. He has an idea that it has to do with whatever insanity Anissina is planning, which he'd stop, if he knew what it was.
Gunther is charging down the hall now, heading straight for Gwendal. “Gwendal,” he cries, throwing his arms around Gwendal’s shoulders.
Gwendal senses it's becoming a trend.
“Have you heard?” Gunther cries, looking him straight in the eyes.
“Heard what?” he asks, pulling away and pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off his headache.
“We’re getting married,” Gunther sobs.
The budding headache becomes a full fledged migraine.
+++
“Anissina!” Gwendal bellows, throwing open the door to her lab. He finds her half-undressed, glaring at him. “We need to talk.”
“Excuse me,” she says, motioning to her half-nakedness. “I’m trying on my dress.”
“What is this about Gunther and I getting married?”
Anissina looks at him as though he’s grown an extra head, which hasn’t happened since the last time he drank one of her potions. “You both will be marrying me.”
“Are you out of your mind?” he asks, incredulous. “I am not marrying you! Neither is Gunther! It’s not even legal!”
“Ah, but it is,” she tells him. “Heika made it legal this morning.”
Gwendal knew it. “You can’t threaten him every time you want one of your insane projects legalized, Anissina.”
“Oh, but you love me, Gwendal, and so does Gunther. And you’re both my favorite test subjects,” she adds. “The wedding is tomorrow. Try running and your mother will not be pleased.”
Gwendal leaves, slamming the door behind him.
+++
The next morning, Gwendal and Gunther are mounting their horses, ready to make their escape. They would have tried the night before, but Anissina and his mother wouldn’t leave them alone, going so far as to have a sleepover in Gwendal’s room.
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Gwendal?” Gunther asks, looking around cautiously. “Cheri-sama is going to be looking for us any minute.”
“And we’ll be gone,” Gwendal asserts. “Let’s go.”
They make it as far as five miles out of town when Anissina appears in the middle of the road. “So kind of you to make it on time,” she says sweetly.
Conrart and Densham appear at their sides to help them down and drag them to their doom.
“It won’t be that bad,” Conrart tries to tell him. “After all, it really won’t change anything.”
Gwendal glares witheringly. Conrart smiles back.
“Gwennie!” Cheri calls out, waving him and Conrart over. “I have your suit.”
Gwendal wishes that someone would attack. It happens at every other ceremony, so why not his wedding?
+++
Yuuri is bumbling through the ceremony, and there hasn’t even been the hint of an attack on the horizon.
“What’s plan B?” Gunther whispers.
Anissina glares menacingly at them both before Gwendal can reply.
Ten minutes later, Yuuri pronounces them man, man, and wife.
“Happily is optional,” Gwendal mutters.
Anissina stomps on his foot with a happy smile before kissing them both.
+++
Conrart and Josak take the horses back to the castle while Gwendal and Gunther ride back with Anissina.
Gunther is sobbing in the corner of the carriage, lamenting the fact that he could not save himself for Yuuri, while Gwendal is nursing a headache.
“Cheer up,” Anissina tells them. She is beaming, happy and aglow. Gwendal wishes her ill.
“Why would you do this, Anissina?” he asks.
“Oniisan has been bugging me about marrying you ever since that whole arranged marriage fiasco, and then he heard about that incident a few months back where he saw you holding hands with Gunther, so he asked if we were all dating or if you were cheating on me.”
Gwendal stares at her wide-eyed.
“I figured this was the simplest solution. Besides, it’s not like either of you planned on getting married, anyway. And now, because of our vows, you guys are my eternal test subjects.” She looks beyond happy with herself.
“Heika,” Gunther sobs loudly.
Gwendal wants to kill something.
+++
The reception is painful. Everyone is fluttering around them, congratulating them, wishing them well, and all Gwendal wants to do is run, but Anissina has a firm grasp on both his and Gunther’s hands.
They are opening presents - well, Anissina is opening them - when Greta runs up and hands him and Gunther each a wrapped package. Gwendal thanks her, and carefully opens the gift.
Inside is a bright green knitted hat with a silver pom pom on top. Gunther’s is silver with a bright green pom pom.
Greta is looking at them hopefully, so Gwendal puts his hat on and tries to smile. It comes out more like a grimace.
“You look good, Gwendal. Stunning, Gunther,” Anissina says seriously, though her eyes are twinkling in amusement. She hands them each a drink, which Gwendal accepts warily. “I didn’t spike it,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Honest.”
Gwendal knocks back the drink at the same time as Gunther takes a sip.
+++
They wake up the next morning wearing nothing but the hats. Anissina is standing over them in a knitted corset.
Gwendal’s mouth feels like a cottonfield.
“Where are we?” Gunther croaks.
Anissina grins. “Welcome to the honeymoon, boys.”
Title: for thee and for myself no quiet find
Author: doumeki
Fandom: xxxHOLiC
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Back Story
Characters: Watanuki, Doumeki
Wordcount: 950
Disclaimer: Not mine. CLAMP owns all. If I did, Clow would have more screentime and Subaru would have a happily ever after with Seishirou and Hokuto.
Author's Notes: A gift for the wonderful she_universe. ♥ Enjoy! Hopefully, it’s not too dreadfully awful. [prompts: entrance exam, entrance ceremony, fight]
He is going to be late if he doesn’t hurry, he knows. He is sprinting down the street, jumping over uneven patches of sidewalk. It’s vaguely familiar, except there isn’t a ghost chomping at his ankles this time, so all in all, a better experience than when he went to take his entrance exams.
The school gate looms in the distance, and Kimihiro takes a moment to glance at his pocket watch. Fifteen minutes. He’ll be on time.
Thank god.
He is through the gates a minute later, and it takes him five minutes to locate the hall for the entrance ceremony.
Nine minutes left, he thinks.
He is almost at the door when he runs smack dab into someone, and they both go careening to the floor, the other person on top of him. Quickly, Kimihiro begins to extract himself, spewing apologies every few seconds.
The other person - guy - doesn’t say anything, just stands up. Doesn’t even offer Kimihiro a hand. Instead, he just turns around and keeps walking.
Kimihiro stands up and glares. A glance at the pocket watch informs him that he has three minutes to get inside and in place before he’s late, so he runs past the guy he bumped into and throws open the door to the hall, hastening to get to his seat without disrupting anyone.
He looks back to see the guy enter and take a seat near the front. Kimihiro shakes his head.
“Some people are rude,” he mutters. “I don’t have to think about them.”
The headmaster steps onto the stage and begins to address the incoming freshmen and their parents, and Kimihiro clears his head, forgetting about the rude jerk in the third seat, two rows back from the front of the stage.
+++
Everyone is milling around outside, saying goodbye to their parents before they file into their classrooms to begin the school year. Kimihiro walks along the outskirts, doing his best to not disturb anyone as he makes his way to class.
He is mostly away from the crowd when he runs into that guy again, but this time, they both keep their balance.
Kimihiro takes a deep breath and apologizes. Again. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t see you there.”
The other guy raises an eyebrow, but remains quiet.
Kimihiro clenches his fists. “I said I’m sorry, you jerk. Or can’t you hear?”
“Noisy,” the other guy says, plugging his ears.
“Why you…” Kimihiro growls. “Do you think it’s okay to be a rude asshole? Huh? Just accept the damn apology.”
“Don’t you ever shut up?”
“That is it!” Kimihiro screams, and takes a swing at the other guy, who dodges it easily. Not to be outmaneuvered, Kimihiro kicks him in the stomach, and the guy doubles over.
He is about to kick the rude guy again, when his leg is caught and he’s hurtling towards the ground.
Kimihiro doesn’t quite remember what happens next; all he knows is that he’s suddenly being held back by one of the teachers, screaming at the top of his lungs at the other guy, who is also being restrained, though it doesn’t look like it’s taking much effort to keep him back. He’s just staring at Kimihiro with an annoyed expression and rubbing his jaw.
+++
“I’m sorry,” he tells the teacher. “I don’t know what came over me.”
The teacher looks at him skeptically. “Fine, but fighting is not permissible on this campus, Watanuki-kun,” the teacher says, and Kimihiro nods.
“You should apologize to Doumeki-kun, as well, and then get to class.”
Kimihiro stands and bows before leaving the room. Doumeki is standing out in the hallway, and Kimihiro clenches his teeth. “I’m sorry. I was out of line.”
Doumeki raises an eyebrow, and Kimihiro checks the urge to punch the damned eyebrow off of Doumeki’s smug face.
“Since you clearly don’t know how to talk,” Kimihiro sneers, “I’m going to class.”
He gets about ten steps before he turns around. Doumeki runs into him. “Oh my god,” Kimihiro hisses, “will you please watch where you are going?”
Doumeki blinks and rubs his chin, which had run into Kimihiro’s forehead. “It’s your fault,” Doumeki says evenly.
Kimihiro’s eyes narrow. “Excuse me?”
“You stopped,” Doumeki says, sounding as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“Well, I’m so damn sorry for stopping. Clearly, it couldn’t be your fault for following me in the first damn place!”
“I was going to class,” Doumeki points out. “It’s that way.”
“Argh!” Kimihiro screams, stomping off.
If he never has to see that jerk again, it will be too soon, he thinks, trudging to class.
+++
He makes it the rest of the day without running into Doumeki, which is perhaps the only good thing about his first day of school. He has a mountain of homework to do, and he has to sew seam on the shoulder of his jacket, which split when he raised his hand during history.
He stops by the temple on his way home to pray for his parents and the ghost boy he met two years ago. He is ringing the bell when he senses a presence. He looks up, expecting to find the temple priest, but instead finds Doumeki.
“Are you stalking me or something?” he shrieks, scrabbling to his feet and stepping back.
Doumeki rolls his eyes. “I live here,” he says, face blank.
“Oh.”
“Apology accepted,” Doumeki tells him, and walks off.
It takes a moment to register, but by the time it does, Doumeki is gone.
“Bastard!” he yells. “You should be the one apologizing!”
This year, Kimihiro decides as he stomps off towards home, is going to suck.
Title: are both with thee, wherever I abide
Author: doumeki
Fandom: xxxHOLiC
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Post-series
Characters: Himawari/Watanuki/Doumeki
Wordcount: 781
Disclaimer: Not mine. CLAMP owns all. If I did, Clow would have more screentime and Subaru would have a happily ever after with Seishirou and Hokuto.
Author's Notes: A gift for the wonderful vicious_lullaby. ♥ Enjoy! Hopefully, it’s not too dreadfully awful. [prompts: mittens, candles, anything from this poem]
It has become tradition that he makes them gloves for the winter holidays. He doesn’t mind; the knitting is soothing, and he has long since become adept at knitting patterns from the yarn into the design. This year, Shizuka - it’s still so odd to refer to him as that, Kimihiro thinks, even though they’ve been… whatever they’ve been for the better part of three years - has midnight blue gloves with a silver arrow, and Himawari-chan has pale pink mittens with a small bird.
They meet at Shizuka’s temple, and Kimihiro pauses to pray and ring the bell for Haruka-san before he enters the main house. Shizuka’s parents are out of town, so the living room is lit by candles, and there is a pot of tea sitting on the table, three cups sitting nestled together next to the teapot. He puts down the wrapped gloves and picks up Himawari-chan’s cup, remembering when Shizuka gave it to her three Christmases ago.
She had been raving about an English poem that they had translated in class, and Shizuka had gotten a black teacup and written part of the poem in his steady hand.
I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center
He places the cup back on the table and looks around. Shizuka is nowhere to be seen, so Kimihiro makes his way toward the back of the house, towards Shizuka’s room. He finds Himawari-chan curled up on the futon, fingers curled toward her body. He leans over and kisses her temple before retreating.
He finds Shizuka out back, bow in hand.
What are you doing? Kimihiro asks, sitting on the porch.
Practicing, Shizuka replies.
Kimihiro nods, and Shizuka sits down next to him. Himawari-chan is already asleep, Kimihiro says softly. It’s cold, so Kimihiro scoots closer.
She came early to help, Shizuka explains. She looked tired, so I told her to take a nap.
Ah.
Shizuka stands. Let’s go, he says, and offers Kimihiro a hand up.
Kimihiro accepts it, and they enter the house, his hand still clasped in Shizuka’s.
I thought you were here, Himawari-chan says. She is sitting up on the futon, looking at them bleary eyed. She moves to stand, and Shizuka and Kimihiro are at her side, each taking an arm. She leans more on Shizuka than Kimihiro, and Kimihiro can’t help but feel a pang of hurt; it’s been years, and he is capable of taking care of himself now.
But he knows, more than others, that old habits are hard to break.
They are in the living room, and Himawari-chan is pouring their tea. Shizuka is handing out gifts, and Kimihiro is distributing the cakes he made the day before. They sip their tea and eat the cakes, chatting quietly. The candlelight makes it hard to see more than features, but they both look happy, and that’s all Kimihiro really cares about.
Himawari-chan opens her presents first and coos over the mittens, trying them on. Shizuka bought her a scarf in a warm yellow, and she thanks them both profusely.
Shizuka goes next, opening Himawari-chan’s gift first.
Your current glove looks like it’s going to fall apart, she tells him when he holds up the archery glove.
Thank you, he says quietly, and opens Kimihiro’s gift. The gloves fit perfectly, for which Kimihiro is grateful; last year, they were a bit small.
It’s Kimihiro’s turn, and he opens his present carefully. Himawari-chan and Shizuka went in on a joint gift, and he peels the paper away slowly. Inside is a new blender and an Italian cookbook.
Mokona-chan broke the one at the shop, Himawari-chan explains. And you were saying you wanted to learn some new recipes.
Thank you, Kimihiro says, touched.
Gelato, Shizuka says, carefully pronouncing the foreign word.
Now? Kimihiro asks, baffled.
Shizuka nods.
Kimihiro throws the wrapping paper at him.
Himawari-chan watches them and laughs happily.
Kimihiro smiles, nudging Shizuka in the ribs and scolding him for demanding food when he is perfectly capable of making it himself, after all the lessons he gave Shizuka last year, thank you very much.
The candles are starting to burn out by the time their eyes begin to droop. Shizuka ushers them into his room and lays out two extra futons right next to his while Himawari-chan and Kimihiro change into pajamas.
Kimihiro gets a candle from Shizuka’s drawer and places it in the window, and lights it for Yuuko-san.
They lay down next to each other and drift into sleep, the glow of the candle watching over them.