Sapuri fanfic: Juunengo no Shiawase (Happiness Ten Years Later) - G
title: Juunengo no Shiawase (Happiness Ten Years Later)
genre: Sapuri
pairing: Ishida Yuuya/Fujii Minami
disclaimer: FujiTV owns more than I could possibly ever hope to. Though they gave me Ishida Yuuya to play with and I'm happy with that. ^_-
summary: Post-drama. What does that happiness she gave him look like, ten years later?
author's note: I've had this in the back of my mind for quite some time now, but I couldn't write it until just recently. For winterspel who loves Yuuya like no one else and kitsune714 to convince her to watch more of Sapuri. *giggle* Love for anamuan beta-reading this at three in the morning when I called her and asked her to. *laughs*
Climbing up the cement stairs, he emerged from the hot, clammy subway station only to be hit full-force by the humidity of Tokyo in July. The near empty streets were wet with a fresh downpour of rain that probably ended just minutes before-luckily for him, as he forgot his umbrella on the train again. Oh well, it was only a hundred yen anyway.
As he began the short walk from the station to his apartment, he tugged on the knot of his light blue tie and let out a tired sigh. His dress shirt clung fiercely to him beneath his navy blue jacket as another layer of sweat broke across his skin. Juggling his briefcase from one hand to the other, he shrugged out of his jacket and carried it on his arm, hoping that removing it might make him feel cooler. It helped a little, but the heat was still oppressing, even as it closed in on midnight.
Tonight had been a business dinner with Hello Communications. After losing that contract with them all those years back, finally Creative had been able land a new advertising contract with them for their newest line of cell phones. Of course, if it had not been for his brilliant presentation and CM pitch, the dinner would not even have been a possibility. Dinner had just been the formal icing on the cake, allowing all the players from both companies to get to know each other before they got to the grind and the real work started.
For the most part, he did not mind dinners. In fact, he rather liked them. It gave him a chance to get to know the client better and to ensure that the client's wishes were accurately portrayed in the final product. Of course, any time he could enjoy a nice dinner on the pay of Creative, it certainly did not hurt. He did not like to miss worthwhile opportunities.
However, tonight, he minded.
He stretched an arm absently above his head and let it drop down to run through his hair, combing his bangs away from his forehead. "Just a little more," he murmured to himself, biting back a yawn as he turned onto the well-lit walkway that led to the lobby of his apartment building.
The clear glass doors of the bright lobby slid open and he stepped inside, the heels of his shoes echoing against the marble flooring. With an ease born of habit, he approached the wall of mailboxes and quickly peeked inside the one labeled "Ishida," despite knowing that he would not find anything there for him at this hour. Continuing through the lobby, he bowed ever so slightly at the night guard and gave him a courteous, "konbanwa," before hitting the button for the elevator. The wait was short and soon enough, he was inside, riding the empty elevator to the twentieth floor.
A mere minute later, the bell chimed and the elevator doors parted, allowing him to step into the hallway of brass-knobbed doors. It was not the top floor of the building-that was the twenty-fifth floor- but it was still quite nice. There were days when he could not even fathom how he had gotten around to living in a place like this. It seemed like it was just yesterday that he was getting shoved violently off Imaoka's couch and being forced to sleep on the hard floor.
Stopping at a door with the numbers "2046" prominently displayed above the peephole, he fished into the pocket of his pants to pull out his keys and inserted the correct one into the lock. Quietly, he opened the door and shuffled inside, shutting the door with a gentle, locking click. He sighed in relief. Air-conditioning was his savior.
The dim light from the living room was enough to see by, so he decided not to flip the hallway light on. As he changed out of his shoes and into his home slippers, he noted the disarray of the shoes in the doorway with a tired smile. Setting his briefcase and jacket aside, he took a short moment and arranged all the shoes so that they were facing the door, ready to be slipped on the next time anyone should want to go out.
Picking up his things, he walked the short distance into the living room, navigating past a few books and toys carelessly left lying about. Upon entering the spacious room, he tossed his jacket and briefcase onto a nearby chair and made his way over to the coffee table.
There his wife lay-her head resting on her folded arms, fast asleep with a myriad of papers, notepads, and pictures scattered about her. Her cute, thick-rimmed glasses pressed against her face awkwardly, having been left on in their owner's exhaustion while her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail by a plastic blue Doraemon band. She was wearing one of his older shirts-his bright yellow and green Madonna jersey-with black yoga pants and he could tell that she had been dressed for comfort so that she could get some serious work done. Obviously, she had been stopped in her tracks by sleep.
He knelt down next to her and tried to carefully remove her glasses without waking her, but she had always been a light sleeper and stirred the moment he gently tugged on them. Her sleepy eyes slowly blinked a few times before she finally focused on his face and mumbled drowsily, "Yuuya?"
Yuuya smiled softly. How long had it taken her to get used to calling him that? Yet, when she was angry enough with him, she would still revert to calling him Ishida, even though she now too was Ishida. "You forgot to take off your glasses."
"Did I?" Rather absent-mindedly, she touched her face with her open hands, trying to confirm his words. Yuuya chuckled at her half-awake antics. "I was trying to finish off these reports for the next orientation, and the next thing I knew..."
"You were asleep?"
"I was asleep." Noticing the mess before her, she set about to cleaning up the coffee table. "How did the dinner go? Is Hello Communications totally onboard?"
Ishida sat down next to her and helped her put together all her paperwork. "I certainly hope so. Their project leader seems to be pretty enthusiastic about making the best CM ever; she's kind of cute in a childish way."
"Cute?" Her eyebrow twitched just a little.
Yuuya laughed. "She's just fresh-faced, Minami. I think this is the first project she's heading."
Minami blushed and Yuuya was sure she was quietly mortified by her misunderstanding. He enjoyed how even at her age, even when they had been married for nearly five years, even when-
"Papa?"
Yuuya glanced past Minami at the love seat to her left, where curled up in a light blanket, hugging a huge stuffed Doraemon was a little girl who was the spitting image of Minami, save for her eyes which were more like Yuuya's. "Monkey!" He exclaimed, jumping up from the floor and joining her in the love seat. "Did I wake you?"
She blinked her eyes blearily and shook her head, though it was clear that he had. "I was waiting for you," she stated confidently.
He smiled, brushing her hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. "You didn't have to, Monkey," he told her sweetly.
"But I wanted to," she insisted with a big yawn.
Yuuya exchanged a knowing glance with Minami and they both grinned. "Well, I'm home now," he reassured. "So, do you want me to tuck you in?"
She gave a big nod, and though still sleepy, proved herself worthy of her nickname and jumped onto her father's back, hooking her arms around his neck. "You hold Doraemon," she directed, and Yuuya made sure to grab Doraemon before piggybacking his daughter to her bedroom.
For all her big talk, as soon as the little girl's head had hit her pillow, she was out like a light. Yuuya tucked the bedcovers up to her chin, making sure that Doraemon was sleeping beside her so that she did not wake up in the morning alone. He took her in peaceful, precious features for long moment before eventually rising from his perch on her bed and turning off her bedside lamp.
As he headed out of the small bedroom toward the door, he noticed Minami peeking in from the doorway, a quiet smile on her lips. "What are you smiling at?" he teased with a playful glint in his eyes.
"You," she answered honestly, not at all playing into his game. "Just you."
Yuuya never failed to be taken in by her simple honesty. Though there was once a time when she was not so confident in herself, the fact that she could now be so clear and definite and true with just one simple word moved him. "Just me?" he whispered back when he was close enough, quickly closing the distance between them with a tender kiss.
"Just you," Minami breathed back after, her forehead resting in the crook of his neck as they gently embraced in the dim hallway.
"Minami?"
"Hmm?"
"arigatou."
"For what?"
"juunengo no shiawase."
the end.
genre: Sapuri
pairing: Ishida Yuuya/Fujii Minami
disclaimer: FujiTV owns more than I could possibly ever hope to. Though they gave me Ishida Yuuya to play with and I'm happy with that. ^_-
summary: Post-drama. What does that happiness she gave him look like, ten years later?
author's note: I've had this in the back of my mind for quite some time now, but I couldn't write it until just recently. For winterspel who loves Yuuya like no one else and kitsune714 to convince her to watch more of Sapuri. *giggle* Love for anamuan beta-reading this at three in the morning when I called her and asked her to. *laughs*
Climbing up the cement stairs, he emerged from the hot, clammy subway station only to be hit full-force by the humidity of Tokyo in July. The near empty streets were wet with a fresh downpour of rain that probably ended just minutes before-luckily for him, as he forgot his umbrella on the train again. Oh well, it was only a hundred yen anyway.
As he began the short walk from the station to his apartment, he tugged on the knot of his light blue tie and let out a tired sigh. His dress shirt clung fiercely to him beneath his navy blue jacket as another layer of sweat broke across his skin. Juggling his briefcase from one hand to the other, he shrugged out of his jacket and carried it on his arm, hoping that removing it might make him feel cooler. It helped a little, but the heat was still oppressing, even as it closed in on midnight.
Tonight had been a business dinner with Hello Communications. After losing that contract with them all those years back, finally Creative had been able land a new advertising contract with them for their newest line of cell phones. Of course, if it had not been for his brilliant presentation and CM pitch, the dinner would not even have been a possibility. Dinner had just been the formal icing on the cake, allowing all the players from both companies to get to know each other before they got to the grind and the real work started.
For the most part, he did not mind dinners. In fact, he rather liked them. It gave him a chance to get to know the client better and to ensure that the client's wishes were accurately portrayed in the final product. Of course, any time he could enjoy a nice dinner on the pay of Creative, it certainly did not hurt. He did not like to miss worthwhile opportunities.
However, tonight, he minded.
He stretched an arm absently above his head and let it drop down to run through his hair, combing his bangs away from his forehead. "Just a little more," he murmured to himself, biting back a yawn as he turned onto the well-lit walkway that led to the lobby of his apartment building.
The clear glass doors of the bright lobby slid open and he stepped inside, the heels of his shoes echoing against the marble flooring. With an ease born of habit, he approached the wall of mailboxes and quickly peeked inside the one labeled "Ishida," despite knowing that he would not find anything there for him at this hour. Continuing through the lobby, he bowed ever so slightly at the night guard and gave him a courteous, "konbanwa," before hitting the button for the elevator. The wait was short and soon enough, he was inside, riding the empty elevator to the twentieth floor.
A mere minute later, the bell chimed and the elevator doors parted, allowing him to step into the hallway of brass-knobbed doors. It was not the top floor of the building-that was the twenty-fifth floor- but it was still quite nice. There were days when he could not even fathom how he had gotten around to living in a place like this. It seemed like it was just yesterday that he was getting shoved violently off Imaoka's couch and being forced to sleep on the hard floor.
Stopping at a door with the numbers "2046" prominently displayed above the peephole, he fished into the pocket of his pants to pull out his keys and inserted the correct one into the lock. Quietly, he opened the door and shuffled inside, shutting the door with a gentle, locking click. He sighed in relief. Air-conditioning was his savior.
The dim light from the living room was enough to see by, so he decided not to flip the hallway light on. As he changed out of his shoes and into his home slippers, he noted the disarray of the shoes in the doorway with a tired smile. Setting his briefcase and jacket aside, he took a short moment and arranged all the shoes so that they were facing the door, ready to be slipped on the next time anyone should want to go out.
Picking up his things, he walked the short distance into the living room, navigating past a few books and toys carelessly left lying about. Upon entering the spacious room, he tossed his jacket and briefcase onto a nearby chair and made his way over to the coffee table.
There his wife lay-her head resting on her folded arms, fast asleep with a myriad of papers, notepads, and pictures scattered about her. Her cute, thick-rimmed glasses pressed against her face awkwardly, having been left on in their owner's exhaustion while her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail by a plastic blue Doraemon band. She was wearing one of his older shirts-his bright yellow and green Madonna jersey-with black yoga pants and he could tell that she had been dressed for comfort so that she could get some serious work done. Obviously, she had been stopped in her tracks by sleep.
He knelt down next to her and tried to carefully remove her glasses without waking her, but she had always been a light sleeper and stirred the moment he gently tugged on them. Her sleepy eyes slowly blinked a few times before she finally focused on his face and mumbled drowsily, "Yuuya?"
Yuuya smiled softly. How long had it taken her to get used to calling him that? Yet, when she was angry enough with him, she would still revert to calling him Ishida, even though she now too was Ishida. "You forgot to take off your glasses."
"Did I?" Rather absent-mindedly, she touched her face with her open hands, trying to confirm his words. Yuuya chuckled at her half-awake antics. "I was trying to finish off these reports for the next orientation, and the next thing I knew..."
"You were asleep?"
"I was asleep." Noticing the mess before her, she set about to cleaning up the coffee table. "How did the dinner go? Is Hello Communications totally onboard?"
Ishida sat down next to her and helped her put together all her paperwork. "I certainly hope so. Their project leader seems to be pretty enthusiastic about making the best CM ever; she's kind of cute in a childish way."
"Cute?" Her eyebrow twitched just a little.
Yuuya laughed. "She's just fresh-faced, Minami. I think this is the first project she's heading."
Minami blushed and Yuuya was sure she was quietly mortified by her misunderstanding. He enjoyed how even at her age, even when they had been married for nearly five years, even when-
"Papa?"
Yuuya glanced past Minami at the love seat to her left, where curled up in a light blanket, hugging a huge stuffed Doraemon was a little girl who was the spitting image of Minami, save for her eyes which were more like Yuuya's. "Monkey!" He exclaimed, jumping up from the floor and joining her in the love seat. "Did I wake you?"
She blinked her eyes blearily and shook her head, though it was clear that he had. "I was waiting for you," she stated confidently.
He smiled, brushing her hair away from her face and tucking it behind her ear. "You didn't have to, Monkey," he told her sweetly.
"But I wanted to," she insisted with a big yawn.
Yuuya exchanged a knowing glance with Minami and they both grinned. "Well, I'm home now," he reassured. "So, do you want me to tuck you in?"
She gave a big nod, and though still sleepy, proved herself worthy of her nickname and jumped onto her father's back, hooking her arms around his neck. "You hold Doraemon," she directed, and Yuuya made sure to grab Doraemon before piggybacking his daughter to her bedroom.
For all her big talk, as soon as the little girl's head had hit her pillow, she was out like a light. Yuuya tucked the bedcovers up to her chin, making sure that Doraemon was sleeping beside her so that she did not wake up in the morning alone. He took her in peaceful, precious features for long moment before eventually rising from his perch on her bed and turning off her bedside lamp.
As he headed out of the small bedroom toward the door, he noticed Minami peeking in from the doorway, a quiet smile on her lips. "What are you smiling at?" he teased with a playful glint in his eyes.
"You," she answered honestly, not at all playing into his game. "Just you."
Yuuya never failed to be taken in by her simple honesty. Though there was once a time when she was not so confident in herself, the fact that she could now be so clear and definite and true with just one simple word moved him. "Just me?" he whispered back when he was close enough, quickly closing the distance between them with a tender kiss.
"Just you," Minami breathed back after, her forehead resting in the crook of his neck as they gently embraced in the dim hallway.
"Minami?"
"Hmm?"
"arigatou."
"For what?"
"juunengo no shiawase."
the end.