[Fic] A GazettE Carol
Title: A GazettE Carol
Chapter: Oneshot
Author: evilgeniuskoji
Genre: Humor, general
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Mild language
Summary: AU. A Christmas Carol told with a twist. One Christmas Eve, Ruki is visited by the three Spirits of Christmas. Chaos and drama ensues.
Welcome. Have you been forced to take shelter from the storm as well? It’s a pity, and on Christmas Eve, too. Well, no matter. Why don’t I tell you a story? Come, sit and warm yourself with a cup of tea, and hear the story of the young CEO of a very prestigious company, and what happened to him one Christmas eve, on a snowy night very much like this one…
---
“Fucking Christmas,” Ruki muttered as he scrawled his signature on yet another form. “They have some nerve…” There was a loud thud as he stamped another paper, then turned to his computer to enter a bit of info in a clatter of keys before wheeling his chair sharply around just as the door opened. “What do you want, Suzuki?”
His secretary froze in surprise and shuffled uncomfortably before muttering something unintelligibly.
“Speak up, man!” he barked.
Reita cleared his throat, obviously discomfited. “Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go out drinking tonight, Ruki-”
“Excuse me?” The blond snapped.
Reita hurriedly backed up, a panicked look on his face. “I mean, Matsumoto-san,” he corrected. There was a bit of a pause, and when it became apparent that Ruki wasn’t going to answer, he went on to say, “What I meant to say is, a few of us are planning to get together tonight and hang out till morning…the old gang…you know, like old times…”
Ruki cut him off before he could say any more. “I don’t have time to get pissed like you losers. I have work in the morning. For that matter, so do you.” His voice was crisp and curt as he shuffled through a sheaf of papers, found a paper clip, and clasped it on top. “Don’t think I won’t fire you just because we’re old childhood friends. Now, I want to go home and sleep. It’s been a damned long day and tomorrow will just be worse. You do what you want.” Getting up, the younger man shrugged on his jacket and grabbed his briefcase, ignoring Reita’s crestfallen expression. “Make sure all the lights are closed, on all the floors,” he warned. “The bills are going to be a bitch if someone left their cubicle light on all night.”
“Yes…sir…” Reita said, face akin to that of a kicked puppy’s.
“Then I’ll be leaving.”
“Oh, yeah, bye. Merry…” The door closed. “…Christmas.”
---
The company had an underground parking space, so Ruki was spared having to trudge out in the snow. His footsteps echoed through the empty garage, lit only partially by dim orange lights that threw shadows on the walls. He quickly found his car and ignored his icy leather seats, sliding his key into the ignition. The car came to life with a quiet purr, and he maneuvered it through the empty parking spaces. The radio was turned off, screen blank and slightly dusty, and there was a dead, ringing silence in the car as the automated door drew up and allowed him to pull out of the office building.
Outside, the world was lit up with lights and life despite the late hour. People still milled around, most of the hand in hand with what was surely their significant others and wrapped up in thick jackets, coats, scarves, and each other against the cold. Snow fell lightly, lending a light dandruff-like dusting that quickly fell on his car. His windshield wipers made quick work of them, clearing them to the side with a quietly squelching. Judging by the thick layer of white on the ground though, most likely the snow had been much heavier earlier that day.
Ruki ignored the neon signs and various wreaths and ribbons decorating both lampposts and shops, and drove past the center of Tokyo, where a colossal tree had been erected complete with stockings and ornaments of every size, color, and shape. It was lit as bright as a bonfire, wrapped up in strings after strings of Christmas lights, and tied in with big read ribbons and fake pinecones. There was even a big, white star poised on top of the giant pine; glowing softly and serenely like an angel watching over all the happy couples that met under its light.
None of them will last long past New Year’s anyway, Ruki privately thought with relish.
The lights and colors and cheer frankly annoyed Ruki, really. He couldn’t even turn on the radio because he knew, from previous years of experience, that if it wouldn’t be likely that he’d be able to find a station not playing Christmas tunes. In fact, he could even hear a faint strain of the English version of White Christmas through his windows; obviously the song was being played on the speakers in the square around the Christmas tree.
Christmas wasn’t even Japanese, was Ruki’s scornful thought. For some reason he could not comprehend, though, it seemed to be just as widely celebrated here than over in…oh, say America, or something.
So he drove past the square, leaving the absolute beacon of light behind him, and loosened his grip on the steering wheel as he entered the quieter part of the city, where houses and apartments were prone to darkness and quiet. Much to his chagrin, there were still a few windows lit up, and he saw more than one wreath hanging on a door, but it was certainly more toned down than it was in the center of Tokyo, so he counted his blessings and pulled up in front of his apartment.
Outside the shelter of his warm and cozy car, the wind was rather bitter and harsh, nipping at exposed skin and digging under his layers like annoying bits of worm and dagger. He could feel the snowflakes landing in his hair and slipping down the back of his shirt, which was a decidedly bad feeling. Hurriedly he slammed his door shut and hurried up into the lobby, but just as luck would have it, the elevator was out of order.
“Well, bah humbug to you,” he snapped.
There was a time when he actually liked winter, but if anyone had asked while he was climbing up five flights of stairs, he would most likely told them to do something very unlikely with the anatomy of a tree branch. Namely, fuck off.
Needless to say, Ruki was even grouchier than before by the time he reached the door to his apartment. Which, with his salary as CEO to the Matsumoto Records, was more of a condo than an apartment, but he’d just tell you that those are semantics.
It took a bit of digging, first in his tailored jacket, then in his pants pockets, for him to find his keys, but he did find them eventually. Muttering darkly under his breath and desperately wishing to get inside out of the snow, he reached for the doorknob and promptly dropped his keys.
He must be dreaming.
He had to be dreaming.
That, or hallucinating.
After all, doorknobs did not turn into the heads of middle-aged, dark-haired men.
“Hello, Ruki,” said Aoi’s voice.
Nor did they turn into the heads of former associates and tycoons.
“What the fuck?” Ruki shouted.
The door across from his opened and a naked torso popped out to stare at him beneath a head of mussed hair. “Something the matter, Matsumoto?” his neighbor said with a very large yawn.
Ruki glanced back to his door and the doorknob was a doorknob again, leaving him quiet disconcerted, but he cleared his throat and shook his head. “Uh, nothing. Just thought I heard something and dropped my keys. Sorry to disturb you.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Kou, come back to bed…” a woman’s husky voice called from inside the apartment.
The neighbor grinned widely and stepped back in his apartment. “Merry Christmas, Matsumoto.” The door closed.
Ruki gazed at it sourly. “Merry Christmas.”
The inside of his apartment was very stylish and very modern, but that was to be expected since he was the one who designed it. Just at that moment, the clock struck twelve, much too late for dinner. Not that he was hungry anyway. It had been a day of nonstop work, and double the amount since half his employees had decided to use up their vacation days to go on a holiday with their families.
Exhausted, Ruki dropped on the sleek body-length leather couch and didn’t bother to do more than kick off his shoes and shrug off his jacket. He laid his head back, and was just about to drift off when he heard the distinct sound of chains.
Clink clank. Clink clank. Clank.
And all of a sudden, he was staring at Aoi’s face again, this time complete with a body and a pair of very noisy manacles.
He was older, paler, gaunter in the face and so thin he looked emaciated. He was not dressed in the tailored suits and shiny loafers Ruki remembered him being so fond of, but in gray, grime-streaked rags, and his feet were bare and dirty. Even Aoi’s hair looked worse for wear, dirty, straggled, and greasy. Definitely not the sharp, charming man who had worked alongside him for many years before he split off with his division to form what Ruki had heard was a very successful company.
But that was in Yokohama, and that was where Aoi lived too. Besides, how had the older man gotten into his apartment, anyway? And why was he dressed so? And why had his head been on Ruki’s doorknob? He had to be dreaming…
“You’re not dreaming, Ruki,” Aoi said, his voice hoarse and imposing and carrying an incredible weight of dread and pain. His manacles shook and the heavy iron ball attached to his legs with another set of chains, obviously meant to slow him down to a crawl shifted slightly. And for the first time, he noticed the way Aoi didn’t seem quite solid, his slight transparent skin, and the way his feet seemed to hover half a centimeter over his carpet before settling down again, only to rise again.
He must be dreaming, Ruki decided. He’d just pinch himself, and then he’d wake up and everything would be back to normal…
Grabbing a peice of his flesh, he squeezed hard, but nothing happened. The slight shot of pain told him that he was most definitely awake, and that the man standing before him was a… “G-ghost? But…you’re alive. I just spoke to you…” he tried to remember the last time he’d called Aoi and was slightly surprised when he couldn’t actually recall it.
Aoi smiled wanly. “Over three years, Ruki. But I died, and I don’t want you to end up like me, wandering the ends of the earth…I’m here to warn you, Ruki. You must change your ways, or suffer an eternity of pain dragging along the weight of your sins…”
Ruki stared. Then laughed. Hard. “What the fuck? Instead of saying something cool and original, you’re spouting cheesy lines in a dream?”
Aoi glared, and suddenly he didn’t seem so frail and sickly any more. “Shut the hell up, man. It’s part of the script, just go with it.”
“Uh huh,” Ruki said, his voice full of condescending humor now that he’d gotten the situation back in hand. “Stop messing with me, buddy. This is a bit of an elaborate prank. What, did you want our companies to cooperate again? There was no need for this kind of thing…”
Aoi growled and threw his hands up in exasperation. The links of the manacles clanked noisily as he did. “You little…”
“And what the hell is with those chains?” Ruki asked without missing a beat. “Are you into BDSM now? Jesus, talk about kinky…”
There was a howl of rage as Aoi stomped around, looking a lot more alive than he had three minutes before. Even his pallor had improved. “This was not in the job description,” he muttered loudly. “It’s not a fucking dream, you moron. Can you just take this seriously, and…” Aoi sighed and rubbed his temples as if he had a headache. “Come on, Matsumoto. I don’t want you damned in the afterlife, and can you just cooperate and go with it?”
“Right,” Ruki said, voice dripping doubt. “I’ll humor you. What’s this about?”
Aoi seemed to heave a sigh of relief before he drew himself up again-or, rather, hunch over again and resume the otherworldly appearance and voice. “Tonight, when the clock strikes one, the three Ghosts of Christmas will pay a visit to you. It would do you well to pay heed to what they tell you, and take your lesson from them. Else, you shall fall to the depths of hell as I did, and suffer for your arrogance!” Aoi paused dramatically. “Take heed from this warning, Matsumoto Takanori…”
His voice faded away, and as he did, so did his body, growing more and more transparent until he could see through Aoi’s torso straight to his collection of sunglasses (a very disturbing sight indeed) and then even less, till he was once again the only one in the room.
“What the fuck, Aoi?” he said to the air. “Drama queen.”
Now that his ghostly encounter was over with, he was much more aware of his aching limbs and the chill he felt out on the couch. Picking himself up with a groan, he stood and hobbled his way to his bedroom, feeling like an old man.
The sound of chains clanking echoed faintly in the room behind him.
---
Ruki bolted up, gasping as night sweat stuck his t-shirt to his back, jolted awake from sleep by some unpleasant and unidentifiable element. Even as he turned to look at the clock, it struck one, and Aoi’s words came back to haunt him.
Tonight, when the clock strikes one, the Ghosts of Christmas will pay a visit to you…
Groaning, Ruki flopped back on his pillow and covered his eyes. “I need to stop drinking,” he muttered to himself.
“Why?” a curious, yet strangely familiar voice asked.
Ruki’s eyes flew open and he sat up so fast he heard his back crack. Sitting across from him on the other end of the bed was a man whose smile was so damn angelic he immediately set Ruki’s nerves grinding. In fact, his whole demeanor just screamed ‘sweet and innocent!’-from the snow white shift that resembled a very old fashioned nightgown, to the enhanced features of a face he knew quite well, to the faint, ethereal glow hanging to him like a second skin.
“What the fuck are you wearing, Kai?” he demanded of his old college friend who, last he heard, now ran a successful restaurant in the thick of Roppongi, the lavish upperclass district of Tokyo,
He hasn’t seen or talked to Kai in five years. This was some dream, alright, Ruki thought.
Kai looked mildly irritated before smoothing over his face again into another expression of pious patience. “My name is not Kai, Ruki. I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.”
Ruki raised his brows skeptically and nodded with enough scorn that the sardonic voice was unneeded. “Riiight. And I’m a reindeer.”
“Are you indeed?”
A snort. “What’s with that get up, Kai? Looks like some sort of dress, man…”
He caught another flash of annoyance in Kai’s eyes, but the ‘Ghost of Christmas Past’ seemed determined and added an extra watt or two of sincerity and brightness to his smile. “That is not the point, Ruki. I told you I’m not Kai.”
“Whatever you say, buddy. You got something to say?” Ruki looked meaningfully at the clock. “I’d like to get some shuteye.”
Kai sighed wearily before renewing his vigor. “Then, let us return to your Christmas of ten years past…”
He reached out and took Ruki’s hand. For a second, nothing happened, but then Ruki began to feel a tug at his chest, faint and barely noticeable. It turned into a full fledged yank, and he felt himself ripped out of his body like a husk, and then everything was strangely weightless.
“What the fuck?” Ruki stared blankly. His body fell back against the pillow, to all appearances asleep, but he himself seemed to be…floating. In midair. Ruki’s jaw dropped. This had better be a dream.
“Come,” said Kai, and then they were flying out the window. Ruki expected to hit the barrier and closed his eyes out of reflex, but when they didn’t meet the shattering of glass, he opened his eyes and stared.
Raging around him was a storm that was no less than a blizzard, with bucketfuls of snow being tossed in his face repeatedly. Or rather, through his face, a fact that he found rather disconcerting.
“What the hell, Kai? It’s fucking cold!”
“Can you even feel it?” the Ghost asked reasonably as he hovered over his shoulder. “Let’s not dawdle. Look into that window…” He pointed at a lit window in what seemed to be the second level of a rather shabby apartment building.
Ruki found himself pressed up against the glass, looking into what could’ve been nothing but a Christmas party. He was about to back up and give Kai a piece of his mind when something caught his eye.
He remembered this party.
It was the one they held when he was younger, so many years ago he couldn’t even remember everything exactly. But the dingy blue carpet, cheap furniture and flimsy decorations bought for sale at the local store struck his memory. There were bags of chips and large bottles of soda for their refreshments, a couple of beers, and two figures staying glued to the screen as they doled it out on a video game.
“Shit, it’s Reita and Uruha…” Ruki muttered, pressing closer to the glass as he tried to crane his vision past the space the window allowed. “I remember this…” he snickered. “They were fighting over a road to choose in the game or something…” The sight of a taller, older man who looked quite healthy, thank you, was chatting to another man, who was attempting to cook something in the small kitchenette that opened up to the living room. “Shit, and there’s Aoi and Kai!” he said triumphantly, turning around. “Hey, Kai, look at this! Can’t deny that it’s you even if he looks younger than you!”
But there was no one behind him, just a shift in the wind as it threw another fall of snow to the ground. Ruki frowned, unsure for a moment what to do. “Kai?” No answer. He slowly turned back around to the scene.
This time, he saw the slight, pale boy seated just behind Uruha and Reita, perhaps making sly insults that set both of them off, because every now and then they’d turn around and whack him in the shoulder or snarl something back. But the boy just smirked and hit back, and when he turned his head, Ruki caught sight of his younger self and his mouth dropped a little.
His face had been rounder, plumper, and certainly younger. Eyes made up outrageously with dark, dramatic smudges, and his hair had a bright red streak through it. He was dressed in a rather rundown but obviously much loved t-shirt, and ripped jeans. Nothing like the specially tailored suits Ruki wore these days.
The three stopped fighting as Kai moved back into the living room with a tray on hand. Ruki almost laughed at Reita’s offending grimace and the whack Kai dealt him as Aoi joined them. His younger self threw an arm around the blond, who sighed before resigning himself to gingerly poke at the snacks.
Ruki was struck by how happy they all seemed.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had an expression like that. It made him feel, for some reason, horribly cold and alone. It was a feeling he hadn’t recognized in a long time.
The next thing he knew, he was in his bed again, and it was still one o’clock. Though the window was firmly shut, there was still a chill in the air, and the feel of snow.
“It was just a dream,” he said stubbornly, but they sounded flat and feeble even to himself.
There was no point in just sitting on his bed, so he laid down and tried to go to sleep. The minutes slipped by, but nothing happened, and he was just about to relax when he noticed the heavy smell of alcohol.
What the hell?
Ruki opened his eyes and found a very drunk Uruha hovering over him. Instinctively he shoved his shoulder aside and sat up, staring at his old friend and current office man.
Uruha worked at a steady pace. If the speed of that pace lead something to be desired, well, it didn’t really matter because Ruki placed him in that section with the thought in mind. Uruha was fairly stable.
Uruha drunk, though, that was another thing entirely.
“What the fuck, Takashima,” he hissed. “What are you doing here, and-”
Uruha held up a hand, and Ruki couldn’t help but noticed that he swayed a little. Even his nose was turning red. “Hey, Ruki. I, uh-” The brown-haired man reached into his pocket and squinted at a piece of paper. “I’m the Ghost of Christmas Present. Nice ta meetcha.” His words slurred slightly as he reached out and vigorously shook his hand.
Ruki gave him a very flat stare. This dream was turning out to be anything but amusing.
“Righto,” Uruha said when Ruki didn’t respond. “Well, le’s go lookit another place happenin’ now, eh?”
There was the same popping motion that he felt earlier as he slid out of his body and was dragged out through his own window. This time they weren’t in front of an apartment, but a small ikazaya. Ruki only had a moment to note that before he was shoved down and the next thing he knew, he was sitting at a table surrounded by Reita, Uruha, and Kai.
They didn’t look any younger; in fact, now that he had a close look at them, he hadn’t realize that they had all gotten so old. It wasn’t a good thought.
He glanced over his shoulder, and to be sure, the drunk Uruha was gone, so he turned his attention back on the other three.
They didn’t seem to have gotten enough alcohol to be quite inebriated, and chatted in quiet voices. Several dishes of delicate appetizers littered the surface of the table, along with small cups and a bottle of what could only be traditional sake.
“-too bad Ruki couldn’t join us,” Kai was saying with a rather sad look on his face. “I wanted to see you again…”
“No, you don’t,” Uruha’s voice was scornful as he sipped from his carefully crafted cup. “You don’t know what he’s like these days, Kai. He’s such a stuck up jackass, shot Reita down when he asked like it was some sort of inconvenience…”
Reita shrugged. “Can’t be helped…we aren’t exactly friends any more.” A look of pain flashed over his face.
“But you work in the same company!” Kai exclaimed, looking visibly upset. “Surely you could’ve kept your friendship up?”
Reita and Uruha exchanged a glance. “He’s changed too much,” the latter finally said. “I don’t think he even wants to be friends, or to connect us with his past.”
That set a heavy silence on the table, and minute after minute passed in quiet before Kai finally sighed. “Well, why don’t you two come up to my apartment and stay the night? Shiroyama’s there too, We can catch up,” he smiled. “I’ll cook something…”
“Ugh,” Reita immediately said. Kai whacked him.
“Shut up, Suzuki, it’s not that bad.”
“Sorry,” the blond grinned. “It’s just reflex.”
“Bullshit,” Uruha muttered with a smile as they pushed back their chairs and put down a few bills, leaving the ikazaya.
And Ruki.
---
When he opened his eyes again, it was not in his bed. One look around at his surroundings caught his throat tight and the hollowness in his chest spread.
It was a graveyard.
The gravestones were all different, inlaid with names and carefully tended. Small offerings were laid before the gravestones, and the graves themselves freshly washed by family members.
Except for one.
Movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention. He nearly jumped and whirled around to stare at the figure, cloaked in a dark shroud and none of his features visibly, save for a single, pale hand, pointing.
Pointing at that one, untended gravestone.
From the amount of dust and dirt coating the surface, it hadn’t been tended to in years. There were no shriveled flowers, no small trinkets laid on the smooth stone, nothing. It looked horribly desolate and alone.
Ruki had a sickening idea who’s grave it was.
Yes, Ruki…that’s your grave.
He snapped his head up sharply to stare at the cloaked figure. That voice in his head…had to be his.
I am the Ghost of Christmas Future…and look upon your future…no one to tend to your lonely grave, because no one misses you.
Ruki’s eyes narrowed slowly.
You can change it, you know. The future. If you promise to change yourself, be more kind and generous and loving.
Oh, that was the most bullshit he’d ever heard.
“Give me a fucking break,” Ruki muttered, marching up to the cloaked figure. “This isn’t my grave, and this is some fucked up dream, and-hey, your voice sounds awfully familiar,” he said, eyes narrowing.
What? Uh. You must be mistaken. I do not know you. Now the voice sounded nervous, and the enigmatic figure seemed to be backing away.
Now Ruki was certain. “Oh, no you don’t.” He leaped at the figure and they struggled for a moment before he ripped the cloak off.
Revealing Kai underneath, girly white nightgown and all.
Ruki stared.
Kai colored slightly, coughing delicately into his hand. “Hello again, Ruki.”
“What the fuck?!” the short blond exploded. “You already showed up!”
“No one wanted to work this late!” Kai said defensively. “Christmas spirits aren't exactly on the best budget, you know!”
“Oh, bullshit,” Ruki snapped. “Are you done trying to guilt me back onto the good path? It’s too late, moron! Don’t waste your time!” If there was a slightly hysterical tone to his voice, no one pointed it out. "I'm already damned, so give it up!"
“But…” Kai’s face was stricken with worry.
“Shut up,” Ruki ordered. “It’s totally pointless-”
Voices interrupted him. Both he and Kai froze as two men made their way through the graveyard, carrying a wooden bucket and a ladle, and some packages. As they drew close, Ruki recognized Reita and Uruha.
“What the hell are they doing here?” he demanded Kai, not noticing that the spirit had faded away.
“What the hell are we doing here?” Uruha echoed him.
Reita shrugged as they reached the forgotten grave, sticking his ladle into the bucket and splashing water over the grave.
Washing the grave, like tradition dictated.
The water washed away the dirt and dust, and for the first time, Ruki saw the name that laid under it.
Matsumoto Takanori
“It’s the day Ruki died,” Reita said simply. He dumped some more water onto the gravestone, making sure it was clean before he laid a bouquet of flowers on its steps.
Uruha sighed. “Look, Reita, it’s been years, and I can’t believe you still feel like that guy was our friend-”
Ruki experienced a shock. What?
Reita shrugged. “It’s not because of that,” he murmured. “It just seems…wrong not to tend his grave.”
Uruha sighed, and waited as Reita performed all the steps to proper grave tending. But even as he watched, Ruki’s vision blurred more and more, till it blacked out entirely and when it cleared, he was in bed again and this time it was dawn.
“…You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Ruki said after a few long moments, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m not going to do it. I’m not.”
---
The doorbell buzzed loudly in the apartment. Its inhabitants groaned as their heads throbbed with inevitable hangovers. More than one of them was much more inclined to ignoring the person at the door.
But the doorbell buzzed again, persistently, until at last Kai stumbled to open the door. A blond man he didn't recognize was on the other side, with a rather sour expression on his face. Kai frowned. "Can I help you?"
The man raised his eyebrows. “Hello, Kai," he said dryly, as if he just had a rather nasty image.
"I'm sorry, do I...?" Kai's voice trailed off as recognition flashed across his face. "Ruki?"
A wry smile curled across his face. “You gonna let me in?”
He stepped aside numbly, face dumbfounded.
---
Aoi stumbled out of the bathroom, scratching his head sleepily. It was obviously not a good idea to party all night long after a long train ride from Tokyo.
He got the shock of his life when he saw Ruki in the middle of the apartment, staring at him rather flatly.
“I thought you were dead,” said the blond.
“What?" Aoi blinked, completely not expecting that.
“Never mind,” Ruki muttered, glancing off to the side. “Good to see you again, Aoi.”
“Uh-uh, you too,” stammered the dark-haired man.
“Right, now where the hell are Suzuki and Takashima…”
Aoi could only stare, sharing a mystified look with Kai as Ruki walked through the apartment like he owned it.
“What is he doing here?” he whispered to the restaurant owner.
“I have no idea!” Kai said frantically. “I thought Uruha and Reita said that he didn’t even know where I lived!”
“You’re listed in the phonebook, Kai.”
“…Oh.”
“But what is he doing here?”
“Beats me.”
---
Reita had the mother of all headaches. He glared sullenly at Uruha, who seemed to be free of any hangover whatsoever, which he thought was inordinately fair considering how much Uruha had drank the night before. “I hate you,” he told the other man.
“Yeah, yeah.” He yawned and poked the omelet Kai had deigned to cook them. “You want it?”
Reita shot him an incredulous look and shuddered, shaking his head. “Are you serious?”
“Right, right…”
“So that’s where you were,” announced a voice. They turned up to look at Ruki, who was standing in front of the kitchen with an ironic expression on his face.
“Ruki?” Reita blurted. “I mean, Matsumoto-san.”
Ruki snorted and sat down at the table, pulling Reita’s dish to him and stealing his fork. “You’re kidding, right? Drop it and just call me Ruki.”
He was sure Reita’s jaw dropped and secretly grinned as the older man glanced at Uruha, who only blinked at him. “Well, uh, what are you doing here, Ruki?”
The blond shrugged as Aoi and Kai walked into the room. “Can’t I spend Christmas with my friends?”
The silence was a bit too long, and under everyone's gaze, Ruki grew more and more discomfited, the unease showing up on his face. Finally, he stood. "Never mind," muttered the blond. "I'll show myself out."
"Wait, Ruki." Aoi smiled. "How's the company these days?"
"Good..." Ruki said cautiously.
"Want breakfast, Ruki?" Kai said, getting up.
"Um...sure."
"Hey, Matsumoto," Uruha said. "This means we get off work?" He grinned lazily.
Ruki snorted. "You wish, man."
"Stingy."
"Lazy."
"Guys," Reita said impatiently. "I really want to try that new video game I got, so..."
"Oh, you freak."
"Merry christmas to you, too."
---
So now you know the story of Ruki and the spirits who visited him one Christmas eve. The snow’s past, and I hope you-
“Kai! What the fuck are you doing in there?!”
Uh...Nothing!
"You've been in there for over an hour! Don't tell me you're telling stories to yourself again!"
I am not, thank you!
"Bullshit. Hurry up, we're going to open the presents!"
Okay, coming!
And a merry Christmas to you, too.
Comments: This! Is my christmas present to my lovely wifey origami_setunai. I think the first half was pretty good, even if it ended up a bit oddly. ^^ It's been a long time since I wrote something so light and easy. Was fun. Merry Christmas to everyone.
Chapter: Oneshot
Author: evilgeniuskoji
Genre: Humor, general
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Mild language
Summary: AU. A Christmas Carol told with a twist. One Christmas Eve, Ruki is visited by the three Spirits of Christmas. Chaos and drama ensues.
Welcome. Have you been forced to take shelter from the storm as well? It’s a pity, and on Christmas Eve, too. Well, no matter. Why don’t I tell you a story? Come, sit and warm yourself with a cup of tea, and hear the story of the young CEO of a very prestigious company, and what happened to him one Christmas eve, on a snowy night very much like this one…
---
“Fucking Christmas,” Ruki muttered as he scrawled his signature on yet another form. “They have some nerve…” There was a loud thud as he stamped another paper, then turned to his computer to enter a bit of info in a clatter of keys before wheeling his chair sharply around just as the door opened. “What do you want, Suzuki?”
His secretary froze in surprise and shuffled uncomfortably before muttering something unintelligibly.
“Speak up, man!” he barked.
Reita cleared his throat, obviously discomfited. “Well, I was wondering if you wanted to go out drinking tonight, Ruki-”
“Excuse me?” The blond snapped.
Reita hurriedly backed up, a panicked look on his face. “I mean, Matsumoto-san,” he corrected. There was a bit of a pause, and when it became apparent that Ruki wasn’t going to answer, he went on to say, “What I meant to say is, a few of us are planning to get together tonight and hang out till morning…the old gang…you know, like old times…”
Ruki cut him off before he could say any more. “I don’t have time to get pissed like you losers. I have work in the morning. For that matter, so do you.” His voice was crisp and curt as he shuffled through a sheaf of papers, found a paper clip, and clasped it on top. “Don’t think I won’t fire you just because we’re old childhood friends. Now, I want to go home and sleep. It’s been a damned long day and tomorrow will just be worse. You do what you want.” Getting up, the younger man shrugged on his jacket and grabbed his briefcase, ignoring Reita’s crestfallen expression. “Make sure all the lights are closed, on all the floors,” he warned. “The bills are going to be a bitch if someone left their cubicle light on all night.”
“Yes…sir…” Reita said, face akin to that of a kicked puppy’s.
“Then I’ll be leaving.”
“Oh, yeah, bye. Merry…” The door closed. “…Christmas.”
---
The company had an underground parking space, so Ruki was spared having to trudge out in the snow. His footsteps echoed through the empty garage, lit only partially by dim orange lights that threw shadows on the walls. He quickly found his car and ignored his icy leather seats, sliding his key into the ignition. The car came to life with a quiet purr, and he maneuvered it through the empty parking spaces. The radio was turned off, screen blank and slightly dusty, and there was a dead, ringing silence in the car as the automated door drew up and allowed him to pull out of the office building.
Outside, the world was lit up with lights and life despite the late hour. People still milled around, most of the hand in hand with what was surely their significant others and wrapped up in thick jackets, coats, scarves, and each other against the cold. Snow fell lightly, lending a light dandruff-like dusting that quickly fell on his car. His windshield wipers made quick work of them, clearing them to the side with a quietly squelching. Judging by the thick layer of white on the ground though, most likely the snow had been much heavier earlier that day.
Ruki ignored the neon signs and various wreaths and ribbons decorating both lampposts and shops, and drove past the center of Tokyo, where a colossal tree had been erected complete with stockings and ornaments of every size, color, and shape. It was lit as bright as a bonfire, wrapped up in strings after strings of Christmas lights, and tied in with big read ribbons and fake pinecones. There was even a big, white star poised on top of the giant pine; glowing softly and serenely like an angel watching over all the happy couples that met under its light.
None of them will last long past New Year’s anyway, Ruki privately thought with relish.
The lights and colors and cheer frankly annoyed Ruki, really. He couldn’t even turn on the radio because he knew, from previous years of experience, that if it wouldn’t be likely that he’d be able to find a station not playing Christmas tunes. In fact, he could even hear a faint strain of the English version of White Christmas through his windows; obviously the song was being played on the speakers in the square around the Christmas tree.
Christmas wasn’t even Japanese, was Ruki’s scornful thought. For some reason he could not comprehend, though, it seemed to be just as widely celebrated here than over in…oh, say America, or something.
So he drove past the square, leaving the absolute beacon of light behind him, and loosened his grip on the steering wheel as he entered the quieter part of the city, where houses and apartments were prone to darkness and quiet. Much to his chagrin, there were still a few windows lit up, and he saw more than one wreath hanging on a door, but it was certainly more toned down than it was in the center of Tokyo, so he counted his blessings and pulled up in front of his apartment.
Outside the shelter of his warm and cozy car, the wind was rather bitter and harsh, nipping at exposed skin and digging under his layers like annoying bits of worm and dagger. He could feel the snowflakes landing in his hair and slipping down the back of his shirt, which was a decidedly bad feeling. Hurriedly he slammed his door shut and hurried up into the lobby, but just as luck would have it, the elevator was out of order.
“Well, bah humbug to you,” he snapped.
There was a time when he actually liked winter, but if anyone had asked while he was climbing up five flights of stairs, he would most likely told them to do something very unlikely with the anatomy of a tree branch. Namely, fuck off.
Needless to say, Ruki was even grouchier than before by the time he reached the door to his apartment. Which, with his salary as CEO to the Matsumoto Records, was more of a condo than an apartment, but he’d just tell you that those are semantics.
It took a bit of digging, first in his tailored jacket, then in his pants pockets, for him to find his keys, but he did find them eventually. Muttering darkly under his breath and desperately wishing to get inside out of the snow, he reached for the doorknob and promptly dropped his keys.
He must be dreaming.
He had to be dreaming.
That, or hallucinating.
After all, doorknobs did not turn into the heads of middle-aged, dark-haired men.
“Hello, Ruki,” said Aoi’s voice.
Nor did they turn into the heads of former associates and tycoons.
“What the fuck?” Ruki shouted.
The door across from his opened and a naked torso popped out to stare at him beneath a head of mussed hair. “Something the matter, Matsumoto?” his neighbor said with a very large yawn.
Ruki glanced back to his door and the doorknob was a doorknob again, leaving him quiet disconcerted, but he cleared his throat and shook his head. “Uh, nothing. Just thought I heard something and dropped my keys. Sorry to disturb you.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Kou, come back to bed…” a woman’s husky voice called from inside the apartment.
The neighbor grinned widely and stepped back in his apartment. “Merry Christmas, Matsumoto.” The door closed.
Ruki gazed at it sourly. “Merry Christmas.”
The inside of his apartment was very stylish and very modern, but that was to be expected since he was the one who designed it. Just at that moment, the clock struck twelve, much too late for dinner. Not that he was hungry anyway. It had been a day of nonstop work, and double the amount since half his employees had decided to use up their vacation days to go on a holiday with their families.
Exhausted, Ruki dropped on the sleek body-length leather couch and didn’t bother to do more than kick off his shoes and shrug off his jacket. He laid his head back, and was just about to drift off when he heard the distinct sound of chains.
Clink clank. Clink clank. Clank.
And all of a sudden, he was staring at Aoi’s face again, this time complete with a body and a pair of very noisy manacles.
He was older, paler, gaunter in the face and so thin he looked emaciated. He was not dressed in the tailored suits and shiny loafers Ruki remembered him being so fond of, but in gray, grime-streaked rags, and his feet were bare and dirty. Even Aoi’s hair looked worse for wear, dirty, straggled, and greasy. Definitely not the sharp, charming man who had worked alongside him for many years before he split off with his division to form what Ruki had heard was a very successful company.
But that was in Yokohama, and that was where Aoi lived too. Besides, how had the older man gotten into his apartment, anyway? And why was he dressed so? And why had his head been on Ruki’s doorknob? He had to be dreaming…
“You’re not dreaming, Ruki,” Aoi said, his voice hoarse and imposing and carrying an incredible weight of dread and pain. His manacles shook and the heavy iron ball attached to his legs with another set of chains, obviously meant to slow him down to a crawl shifted slightly. And for the first time, he noticed the way Aoi didn’t seem quite solid, his slight transparent skin, and the way his feet seemed to hover half a centimeter over his carpet before settling down again, only to rise again.
He must be dreaming, Ruki decided. He’d just pinch himself, and then he’d wake up and everything would be back to normal…
Grabbing a peice of his flesh, he squeezed hard, but nothing happened. The slight shot of pain told him that he was most definitely awake, and that the man standing before him was a… “G-ghost? But…you’re alive. I just spoke to you…” he tried to remember the last time he’d called Aoi and was slightly surprised when he couldn’t actually recall it.
Aoi smiled wanly. “Over three years, Ruki. But I died, and I don’t want you to end up like me, wandering the ends of the earth…I’m here to warn you, Ruki. You must change your ways, or suffer an eternity of pain dragging along the weight of your sins…”
Ruki stared. Then laughed. Hard. “What the fuck? Instead of saying something cool and original, you’re spouting cheesy lines in a dream?”
Aoi glared, and suddenly he didn’t seem so frail and sickly any more. “Shut the hell up, man. It’s part of the script, just go with it.”
“Uh huh,” Ruki said, his voice full of condescending humor now that he’d gotten the situation back in hand. “Stop messing with me, buddy. This is a bit of an elaborate prank. What, did you want our companies to cooperate again? There was no need for this kind of thing…”
Aoi growled and threw his hands up in exasperation. The links of the manacles clanked noisily as he did. “You little…”
“And what the hell is with those chains?” Ruki asked without missing a beat. “Are you into BDSM now? Jesus, talk about kinky…”
There was a howl of rage as Aoi stomped around, looking a lot more alive than he had three minutes before. Even his pallor had improved. “This was not in the job description,” he muttered loudly. “It’s not a fucking dream, you moron. Can you just take this seriously, and…” Aoi sighed and rubbed his temples as if he had a headache. “Come on, Matsumoto. I don’t want you damned in the afterlife, and can you just cooperate and go with it?”
“Right,” Ruki said, voice dripping doubt. “I’ll humor you. What’s this about?”
Aoi seemed to heave a sigh of relief before he drew himself up again-or, rather, hunch over again and resume the otherworldly appearance and voice. “Tonight, when the clock strikes one, the three Ghosts of Christmas will pay a visit to you. It would do you well to pay heed to what they tell you, and take your lesson from them. Else, you shall fall to the depths of hell as I did, and suffer for your arrogance!” Aoi paused dramatically. “Take heed from this warning, Matsumoto Takanori…”
His voice faded away, and as he did, so did his body, growing more and more transparent until he could see through Aoi’s torso straight to his collection of sunglasses (a very disturbing sight indeed) and then even less, till he was once again the only one in the room.
“What the fuck, Aoi?” he said to the air. “Drama queen.”
Now that his ghostly encounter was over with, he was much more aware of his aching limbs and the chill he felt out on the couch. Picking himself up with a groan, he stood and hobbled his way to his bedroom, feeling like an old man.
The sound of chains clanking echoed faintly in the room behind him.
---
Ruki bolted up, gasping as night sweat stuck his t-shirt to his back, jolted awake from sleep by some unpleasant and unidentifiable element. Even as he turned to look at the clock, it struck one, and Aoi’s words came back to haunt him.
Tonight, when the clock strikes one, the Ghosts of Christmas will pay a visit to you…
Groaning, Ruki flopped back on his pillow and covered his eyes. “I need to stop drinking,” he muttered to himself.
“Why?” a curious, yet strangely familiar voice asked.
Ruki’s eyes flew open and he sat up so fast he heard his back crack. Sitting across from him on the other end of the bed was a man whose smile was so damn angelic he immediately set Ruki’s nerves grinding. In fact, his whole demeanor just screamed ‘sweet and innocent!’-from the snow white shift that resembled a very old fashioned nightgown, to the enhanced features of a face he knew quite well, to the faint, ethereal glow hanging to him like a second skin.
“What the fuck are you wearing, Kai?” he demanded of his old college friend who, last he heard, now ran a successful restaurant in the thick of Roppongi, the lavish upperclass district of Tokyo,
He hasn’t seen or talked to Kai in five years. This was some dream, alright, Ruki thought.
Kai looked mildly irritated before smoothing over his face again into another expression of pious patience. “My name is not Kai, Ruki. I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.”
Ruki raised his brows skeptically and nodded with enough scorn that the sardonic voice was unneeded. “Riiight. And I’m a reindeer.”
“Are you indeed?”
A snort. “What’s with that get up, Kai? Looks like some sort of dress, man…”
He caught another flash of annoyance in Kai’s eyes, but the ‘Ghost of Christmas Past’ seemed determined and added an extra watt or two of sincerity and brightness to his smile. “That is not the point, Ruki. I told you I’m not Kai.”
“Whatever you say, buddy. You got something to say?” Ruki looked meaningfully at the clock. “I’d like to get some shuteye.”
Kai sighed wearily before renewing his vigor. “Then, let us return to your Christmas of ten years past…”
He reached out and took Ruki’s hand. For a second, nothing happened, but then Ruki began to feel a tug at his chest, faint and barely noticeable. It turned into a full fledged yank, and he felt himself ripped out of his body like a husk, and then everything was strangely weightless.
“What the fuck?” Ruki stared blankly. His body fell back against the pillow, to all appearances asleep, but he himself seemed to be…floating. In midair. Ruki’s jaw dropped. This had better be a dream.
“Come,” said Kai, and then they were flying out the window. Ruki expected to hit the barrier and closed his eyes out of reflex, but when they didn’t meet the shattering of glass, he opened his eyes and stared.
Raging around him was a storm that was no less than a blizzard, with bucketfuls of snow being tossed in his face repeatedly. Or rather, through his face, a fact that he found rather disconcerting.
“What the hell, Kai? It’s fucking cold!”
“Can you even feel it?” the Ghost asked reasonably as he hovered over his shoulder. “Let’s not dawdle. Look into that window…” He pointed at a lit window in what seemed to be the second level of a rather shabby apartment building.
Ruki found himself pressed up against the glass, looking into what could’ve been nothing but a Christmas party. He was about to back up and give Kai a piece of his mind when something caught his eye.
He remembered this party.
It was the one they held when he was younger, so many years ago he couldn’t even remember everything exactly. But the dingy blue carpet, cheap furniture and flimsy decorations bought for sale at the local store struck his memory. There were bags of chips and large bottles of soda for their refreshments, a couple of beers, and two figures staying glued to the screen as they doled it out on a video game.
“Shit, it’s Reita and Uruha…” Ruki muttered, pressing closer to the glass as he tried to crane his vision past the space the window allowed. “I remember this…” he snickered. “They were fighting over a road to choose in the game or something…” The sight of a taller, older man who looked quite healthy, thank you, was chatting to another man, who was attempting to cook something in the small kitchenette that opened up to the living room. “Shit, and there’s Aoi and Kai!” he said triumphantly, turning around. “Hey, Kai, look at this! Can’t deny that it’s you even if he looks younger than you!”
But there was no one behind him, just a shift in the wind as it threw another fall of snow to the ground. Ruki frowned, unsure for a moment what to do. “Kai?” No answer. He slowly turned back around to the scene.
This time, he saw the slight, pale boy seated just behind Uruha and Reita, perhaps making sly insults that set both of them off, because every now and then they’d turn around and whack him in the shoulder or snarl something back. But the boy just smirked and hit back, and when he turned his head, Ruki caught sight of his younger self and his mouth dropped a little.
His face had been rounder, plumper, and certainly younger. Eyes made up outrageously with dark, dramatic smudges, and his hair had a bright red streak through it. He was dressed in a rather rundown but obviously much loved t-shirt, and ripped jeans. Nothing like the specially tailored suits Ruki wore these days.
The three stopped fighting as Kai moved back into the living room with a tray on hand. Ruki almost laughed at Reita’s offending grimace and the whack Kai dealt him as Aoi joined them. His younger self threw an arm around the blond, who sighed before resigning himself to gingerly poke at the snacks.
Ruki was struck by how happy they all seemed.
He couldn’t remember the last time he had an expression like that. It made him feel, for some reason, horribly cold and alone. It was a feeling he hadn’t recognized in a long time.
The next thing he knew, he was in his bed again, and it was still one o’clock. Though the window was firmly shut, there was still a chill in the air, and the feel of snow.
“It was just a dream,” he said stubbornly, but they sounded flat and feeble even to himself.
There was no point in just sitting on his bed, so he laid down and tried to go to sleep. The minutes slipped by, but nothing happened, and he was just about to relax when he noticed the heavy smell of alcohol.
What the hell?
Ruki opened his eyes and found a very drunk Uruha hovering over him. Instinctively he shoved his shoulder aside and sat up, staring at his old friend and current office man.
Uruha worked at a steady pace. If the speed of that pace lead something to be desired, well, it didn’t really matter because Ruki placed him in that section with the thought in mind. Uruha was fairly stable.
Uruha drunk, though, that was another thing entirely.
“What the fuck, Takashima,” he hissed. “What are you doing here, and-”
Uruha held up a hand, and Ruki couldn’t help but noticed that he swayed a little. Even his nose was turning red. “Hey, Ruki. I, uh-” The brown-haired man reached into his pocket and squinted at a piece of paper. “I’m the Ghost of Christmas Present. Nice ta meetcha.” His words slurred slightly as he reached out and vigorously shook his hand.
Ruki gave him a very flat stare. This dream was turning out to be anything but amusing.
“Righto,” Uruha said when Ruki didn’t respond. “Well, le’s go lookit another place happenin’ now, eh?”
There was the same popping motion that he felt earlier as he slid out of his body and was dragged out through his own window. This time they weren’t in front of an apartment, but a small ikazaya. Ruki only had a moment to note that before he was shoved down and the next thing he knew, he was sitting at a table surrounded by Reita, Uruha, and Kai.
They didn’t look any younger; in fact, now that he had a close look at them, he hadn’t realize that they had all gotten so old. It wasn’t a good thought.
He glanced over his shoulder, and to be sure, the drunk Uruha was gone, so he turned his attention back on the other three.
They didn’t seem to have gotten enough alcohol to be quite inebriated, and chatted in quiet voices. Several dishes of delicate appetizers littered the surface of the table, along with small cups and a bottle of what could only be traditional sake.
“-too bad Ruki couldn’t join us,” Kai was saying with a rather sad look on his face. “I wanted to see you again…”
“No, you don’t,” Uruha’s voice was scornful as he sipped from his carefully crafted cup. “You don’t know what he’s like these days, Kai. He’s such a stuck up jackass, shot Reita down when he asked like it was some sort of inconvenience…”
Reita shrugged. “Can’t be helped…we aren’t exactly friends any more.” A look of pain flashed over his face.
“But you work in the same company!” Kai exclaimed, looking visibly upset. “Surely you could’ve kept your friendship up?”
Reita and Uruha exchanged a glance. “He’s changed too much,” the latter finally said. “I don’t think he even wants to be friends, or to connect us with his past.”
That set a heavy silence on the table, and minute after minute passed in quiet before Kai finally sighed. “Well, why don’t you two come up to my apartment and stay the night? Shiroyama’s there too, We can catch up,” he smiled. “I’ll cook something…”
“Ugh,” Reita immediately said. Kai whacked him.
“Shut up, Suzuki, it’s not that bad.”
“Sorry,” the blond grinned. “It’s just reflex.”
“Bullshit,” Uruha muttered with a smile as they pushed back their chairs and put down a few bills, leaving the ikazaya.
And Ruki.
---
When he opened his eyes again, it was not in his bed. One look around at his surroundings caught his throat tight and the hollowness in his chest spread.
It was a graveyard.
The gravestones were all different, inlaid with names and carefully tended. Small offerings were laid before the gravestones, and the graves themselves freshly washed by family members.
Except for one.
Movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention. He nearly jumped and whirled around to stare at the figure, cloaked in a dark shroud and none of his features visibly, save for a single, pale hand, pointing.
Pointing at that one, untended gravestone.
From the amount of dust and dirt coating the surface, it hadn’t been tended to in years. There were no shriveled flowers, no small trinkets laid on the smooth stone, nothing. It looked horribly desolate and alone.
Ruki had a sickening idea who’s grave it was.
Yes, Ruki…that’s your grave.
He snapped his head up sharply to stare at the cloaked figure. That voice in his head…had to be his.
I am the Ghost of Christmas Future…and look upon your future…no one to tend to your lonely grave, because no one misses you.
Ruki’s eyes narrowed slowly.
You can change it, you know. The future. If you promise to change yourself, be more kind and generous and loving.
Oh, that was the most bullshit he’d ever heard.
“Give me a fucking break,” Ruki muttered, marching up to the cloaked figure. “This isn’t my grave, and this is some fucked up dream, and-hey, your voice sounds awfully familiar,” he said, eyes narrowing.
What? Uh. You must be mistaken. I do not know you. Now the voice sounded nervous, and the enigmatic figure seemed to be backing away.
Now Ruki was certain. “Oh, no you don’t.” He leaped at the figure and they struggled for a moment before he ripped the cloak off.
Revealing Kai underneath, girly white nightgown and all.
Ruki stared.
Kai colored slightly, coughing delicately into his hand. “Hello again, Ruki.”
“What the fuck?!” the short blond exploded. “You already showed up!”
“No one wanted to work this late!” Kai said defensively. “Christmas spirits aren't exactly on the best budget, you know!”
“Oh, bullshit,” Ruki snapped. “Are you done trying to guilt me back onto the good path? It’s too late, moron! Don’t waste your time!” If there was a slightly hysterical tone to his voice, no one pointed it out. "I'm already damned, so give it up!"
“But…” Kai’s face was stricken with worry.
“Shut up,” Ruki ordered. “It’s totally pointless-”
Voices interrupted him. Both he and Kai froze as two men made their way through the graveyard, carrying a wooden bucket and a ladle, and some packages. As they drew close, Ruki recognized Reita and Uruha.
“What the hell are they doing here?” he demanded Kai, not noticing that the spirit had faded away.
“What the hell are we doing here?” Uruha echoed him.
Reita shrugged as they reached the forgotten grave, sticking his ladle into the bucket and splashing water over the grave.
Washing the grave, like tradition dictated.
The water washed away the dirt and dust, and for the first time, Ruki saw the name that laid under it.
Matsumoto Takanori
“It’s the day Ruki died,” Reita said simply. He dumped some more water onto the gravestone, making sure it was clean before he laid a bouquet of flowers on its steps.
Uruha sighed. “Look, Reita, it’s been years, and I can’t believe you still feel like that guy was our friend-”
Ruki experienced a shock. What?
Reita shrugged. “It’s not because of that,” he murmured. “It just seems…wrong not to tend his grave.”
Uruha sighed, and waited as Reita performed all the steps to proper grave tending. But even as he watched, Ruki’s vision blurred more and more, till it blacked out entirely and when it cleared, he was in bed again and this time it was dawn.
“…You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Ruki said after a few long moments, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I’m not going to do it. I’m not.”
---
The doorbell buzzed loudly in the apartment. Its inhabitants groaned as their heads throbbed with inevitable hangovers. More than one of them was much more inclined to ignoring the person at the door.
But the doorbell buzzed again, persistently, until at last Kai stumbled to open the door. A blond man he didn't recognize was on the other side, with a rather sour expression on his face. Kai frowned. "Can I help you?"
The man raised his eyebrows. “Hello, Kai," he said dryly, as if he just had a rather nasty image.
"I'm sorry, do I...?" Kai's voice trailed off as recognition flashed across his face. "Ruki?"
A wry smile curled across his face. “You gonna let me in?”
He stepped aside numbly, face dumbfounded.
---
Aoi stumbled out of the bathroom, scratching his head sleepily. It was obviously not a good idea to party all night long after a long train ride from Tokyo.
He got the shock of his life when he saw Ruki in the middle of the apartment, staring at him rather flatly.
“I thought you were dead,” said the blond.
“What?" Aoi blinked, completely not expecting that.
“Never mind,” Ruki muttered, glancing off to the side. “Good to see you again, Aoi.”
“Uh-uh, you too,” stammered the dark-haired man.
“Right, now where the hell are Suzuki and Takashima…”
Aoi could only stare, sharing a mystified look with Kai as Ruki walked through the apartment like he owned it.
“What is he doing here?” he whispered to the restaurant owner.
“I have no idea!” Kai said frantically. “I thought Uruha and Reita said that he didn’t even know where I lived!”
“You’re listed in the phonebook, Kai.”
“…Oh.”
“But what is he doing here?”
“Beats me.”
---
Reita had the mother of all headaches. He glared sullenly at Uruha, who seemed to be free of any hangover whatsoever, which he thought was inordinately fair considering how much Uruha had drank the night before. “I hate you,” he told the other man.
“Yeah, yeah.” He yawned and poked the omelet Kai had deigned to cook them. “You want it?”
Reita shot him an incredulous look and shuddered, shaking his head. “Are you serious?”
“Right, right…”
“So that’s where you were,” announced a voice. They turned up to look at Ruki, who was standing in front of the kitchen with an ironic expression on his face.
“Ruki?” Reita blurted. “I mean, Matsumoto-san.”
Ruki snorted and sat down at the table, pulling Reita’s dish to him and stealing his fork. “You’re kidding, right? Drop it and just call me Ruki.”
He was sure Reita’s jaw dropped and secretly grinned as the older man glanced at Uruha, who only blinked at him. “Well, uh, what are you doing here, Ruki?”
The blond shrugged as Aoi and Kai walked into the room. “Can’t I spend Christmas with my friends?”
The silence was a bit too long, and under everyone's gaze, Ruki grew more and more discomfited, the unease showing up on his face. Finally, he stood. "Never mind," muttered the blond. "I'll show myself out."
"Wait, Ruki." Aoi smiled. "How's the company these days?"
"Good..." Ruki said cautiously.
"Want breakfast, Ruki?" Kai said, getting up.
"Um...sure."
"Hey, Matsumoto," Uruha said. "This means we get off work?" He grinned lazily.
Ruki snorted. "You wish, man."
"Stingy."
"Lazy."
"Guys," Reita said impatiently. "I really want to try that new video game I got, so..."
"Oh, you freak."
"Merry christmas to you, too."
---
So now you know the story of Ruki and the spirits who visited him one Christmas eve. The snow’s past, and I hope you-
“Kai! What the fuck are you doing in there?!”
Uh...Nothing!
"You've been in there for over an hour! Don't tell me you're telling stories to yourself again!"
I am not, thank you!
"Bullshit. Hurry up, we're going to open the presents!"
Okay, coming!
And a merry Christmas to you, too.
Comments: This! Is my christmas present to my lovely wifey origami_setunai. I think the first half was pretty good, even if it ended up a bit oddly. ^^ It's been a long time since I wrote something so light and easy. Was fun. Merry Christmas to everyone.