will you persist even after I bet you a billion dollars that I'll never love you?
Today is the birthday of chibineko. Shower her with gifts or something. Yes.
I already gave her her gift at the beginning of the month, but since I didn't have anything to actually give her today, I wrote her a ficcie (with no attempted smut or slash *shock*). I already gave it to her, but I like to post things in my LJ or I lose them ^_^;;
Happy Birthday!
title: A Little Culture
fandom: xxxHolic (because xxxHolic can be crossed over with anything.)
pairing: none
spoilers: none
words: 1037
rating: G
"You, Watanuki, are lacking in culture."
The boy didn't even bother looking up from his dusting to answer her, "If it's your kind of culture, Yuuko-san, I'm not interested."
The witch sighed and shook her head at his uselessness. "Culture is universal. There are some things that are just classic and beautiful and memorable. Things that need to be experienced at least once in a lifetime."
"Really," he said disinterestedly, quite obviously paying little to no attention.
At that, Yuuko made a decision and jumped to her feet. "Maru! Moro! Get my clothes, I'm going out. Watanuki, take off that apron, you're coming with me."
-----------------------
She pulled a piece of chalk from seemingly nowhere and drew a doorway. Not just any doorway, mind you. It was elaborate, with ornate designs that would have made any artist swoon. Watanuki, the irritating boy, didn't even seem to notice.
"Where are we going, Yuuko-san?" he asked, eyeing her artwork suspiciously.
"To the other end of the world."
"Really?"
"I'm going to show you my favourite kind of culture." She'd hoped for some glimpse of wonder or curiosity from Watanuki, but instead got a long-suffering sigh.
"We're not going to a bar, are we?"
Yuuko pulled on the doorknob somehow protruding from the picture on the wall. "No, we aren't. We're going to a play."
--------------------
Yuuko's door left them in the middle of a street outside what appeared to be a warehouse. It closed shut behind them with an audible click, leaving nothing but the open air, and Watanuki suddenly wished he hadn't gone through the door without knowing what he was getting into. After all, bad things happened when he trusted Yuuko. It was a proven fact.
"Where are we?" He was sure it was pointless to ask, but did so anyway.
She took his arm as though they were on a date and pulled him towards the door, "We're at the theatre."
------------------------
What was a warehouse on the outside appeared to be a low-lit lobby on the inside, with pictures adorning the walls that he could only glance at as Yuuko pulled him through the room and began a conversation with a man that Watanuki had been sure was a woman until he spoke.
It was then that he knew he was in trouble.
He waited politely until they were done talking - chatting like they were old friends, in fact - to express his issue with the situation.
"We really did travel across the world, didn't we?" He vaguely wondered why he hadn't believed her in the first place.
"Of course. We're in Canada."
"Yuuko-san, my English isn't good enough for this."
She waved the hand not on his arm in dismissal, dragging him down a wide staircase. "You don't need to know the language to appreciate this."
Not for the first time that day, Watanuki feared what he'd gotten himself into.
-------------------
Though he wouldn't admit it, and was sure Yuuko would know anyway, he'd never been in a theatre before. He'd always thought that it'd be bigger. With lavish seats and wall hangings and crowds of people in expensive-looking clothing.
This, instead, appeared to be a scattering of uncomfortable-looking metal chairs with thin cloth coverings that were likely intended to make them "comfortable." The stage, instead of being in the wall, like Watanuki had seen in pictures, instead jutted out into the crowd. The walls were plain black, with no pictures or hangings to speak of. There was a good showing of people, though he suddenly felt very plain and out of place in his simple school uniform among the fashionably dressed and exotic people around him. Yuuko, of course, managed to fit in perfectly.
The lights dimmed drastically, and Yuuko pulled him into a seat near the back - not quite as uncomfortable as he'd expected - as the lights went out completely.
------------------
He was skeptical. He was trying so hard to make out what people were saying, to pick up the plotline and to understand the characters that he was getting a headache. The background music, light and airy, made it far more difficult for him as meanings were lost in a sea of sound. He found himself leaning forward in his chair and squinting as though that would somehow help him to hear better.
Apparently exasperated with this behaviour, Yuuko took hold of his shoulder and pulled him until he sat back in his chair. "Relax," her breath tickled his ear, and he considered pulling away from her violently and switching seats. But the quiet that had fallen over the audience seemed too sacred to break.
He watched the stage. He saw the backdrops, lovingly painted - possibly by hand. They set the scene better than any words could. The music washed over him, less obtrusive now that he wasn't concentrating so hard. The actors' bodies moved, interacting with each other in a dance of daily life that even he, from across the world, could relate to. Their words were meaningless, but their voices were filled with emotion.
Watanuki understood.
----------------
"What was it called?" He asked when all was done and Yuuko was sketching another door on the wall of a building.
"The play? I didn't catch the title, myself." She snuck a glance at him over her shoulder, "Why, did you like it?"
He shifted his gaze away to look down the street at the building they'd come from. It looked too plain on the outside to have contained what he'd seen within. "It was all right."
Yuuko's smile when she faced him again was strange. "You can come with me next time, if you like."
He tried not to look too excited, "Maybe."
Her smile widened, and she turned to pull on the doorknob.
"Yuuko-san," he began, looking down the street again, "What was it called?"
"I told you, I didn't catch the title."
"Not the play, the..." he trailed off as he tried to think of a way to sum up the experience in words.
"The theatre?"
It infuriated him, sometimes, how the things he struggled with, she could do with ease. "Yes, the theatre."
She took his arm and pulled him towards the door, "It's called The Theatre of Hope."
-------------------
theatreofhope
I already gave her her gift at the beginning of the month, but since I didn't have anything to actually give her today, I wrote her a ficcie (with no attempted smut or slash *shock*). I already gave it to her, but I like to post things in my LJ or I lose them ^_^;;
Happy Birthday!
title: A Little Culture
fandom: xxxHolic (because xxxHolic can be crossed over with anything.)
pairing: none
spoilers: none
words: 1037
rating: G
"You, Watanuki, are lacking in culture."
The boy didn't even bother looking up from his dusting to answer her, "If it's your kind of culture, Yuuko-san, I'm not interested."
The witch sighed and shook her head at his uselessness. "Culture is universal. There are some things that are just classic and beautiful and memorable. Things that need to be experienced at least once in a lifetime."
"Really," he said disinterestedly, quite obviously paying little to no attention.
At that, Yuuko made a decision and jumped to her feet. "Maru! Moro! Get my clothes, I'm going out. Watanuki, take off that apron, you're coming with me."
-----------------------
She pulled a piece of chalk from seemingly nowhere and drew a doorway. Not just any doorway, mind you. It was elaborate, with ornate designs that would have made any artist swoon. Watanuki, the irritating boy, didn't even seem to notice.
"Where are we going, Yuuko-san?" he asked, eyeing her artwork suspiciously.
"To the other end of the world."
"Really?"
"I'm going to show you my favourite kind of culture." She'd hoped for some glimpse of wonder or curiosity from Watanuki, but instead got a long-suffering sigh.
"We're not going to a bar, are we?"
Yuuko pulled on the doorknob somehow protruding from the picture on the wall. "No, we aren't. We're going to a play."
--------------------
Yuuko's door left them in the middle of a street outside what appeared to be a warehouse. It closed shut behind them with an audible click, leaving nothing but the open air, and Watanuki suddenly wished he hadn't gone through the door without knowing what he was getting into. After all, bad things happened when he trusted Yuuko. It was a proven fact.
"Where are we?" He was sure it was pointless to ask, but did so anyway.
She took his arm as though they were on a date and pulled him towards the door, "We're at the theatre."
------------------------
What was a warehouse on the outside appeared to be a low-lit lobby on the inside, with pictures adorning the walls that he could only glance at as Yuuko pulled him through the room and began a conversation with a man that Watanuki had been sure was a woman until he spoke.
It was then that he knew he was in trouble.
He waited politely until they were done talking - chatting like they were old friends, in fact - to express his issue with the situation.
"We really did travel across the world, didn't we?" He vaguely wondered why he hadn't believed her in the first place.
"Of course. We're in Canada."
"Yuuko-san, my English isn't good enough for this."
She waved the hand not on his arm in dismissal, dragging him down a wide staircase. "You don't need to know the language to appreciate this."
Not for the first time that day, Watanuki feared what he'd gotten himself into.
-------------------
Though he wouldn't admit it, and was sure Yuuko would know anyway, he'd never been in a theatre before. He'd always thought that it'd be bigger. With lavish seats and wall hangings and crowds of people in expensive-looking clothing.
This, instead, appeared to be a scattering of uncomfortable-looking metal chairs with thin cloth coverings that were likely intended to make them "comfortable." The stage, instead of being in the wall, like Watanuki had seen in pictures, instead jutted out into the crowd. The walls were plain black, with no pictures or hangings to speak of. There was a good showing of people, though he suddenly felt very plain and out of place in his simple school uniform among the fashionably dressed and exotic people around him. Yuuko, of course, managed to fit in perfectly.
The lights dimmed drastically, and Yuuko pulled him into a seat near the back - not quite as uncomfortable as he'd expected - as the lights went out completely.
------------------
He was skeptical. He was trying so hard to make out what people were saying, to pick up the plotline and to understand the characters that he was getting a headache. The background music, light and airy, made it far more difficult for him as meanings were lost in a sea of sound. He found himself leaning forward in his chair and squinting as though that would somehow help him to hear better.
Apparently exasperated with this behaviour, Yuuko took hold of his shoulder and pulled him until he sat back in his chair. "Relax," her breath tickled his ear, and he considered pulling away from her violently and switching seats. But the quiet that had fallen over the audience seemed too sacred to break.
He watched the stage. He saw the backdrops, lovingly painted - possibly by hand. They set the scene better than any words could. The music washed over him, less obtrusive now that he wasn't concentrating so hard. The actors' bodies moved, interacting with each other in a dance of daily life that even he, from across the world, could relate to. Their words were meaningless, but their voices were filled with emotion.
Watanuki understood.
----------------
"What was it called?" He asked when all was done and Yuuko was sketching another door on the wall of a building.
"The play? I didn't catch the title, myself." She snuck a glance at him over her shoulder, "Why, did you like it?"
He shifted his gaze away to look down the street at the building they'd come from. It looked too plain on the outside to have contained what he'd seen within. "It was all right."
Yuuko's smile when she faced him again was strange. "You can come with me next time, if you like."
He tried not to look too excited, "Maybe."
Her smile widened, and she turned to pull on the doorknob.
"Yuuko-san," he began, looking down the street again, "What was it called?"
"I told you, I didn't catch the title."
"Not the play, the..." he trailed off as he tried to think of a way to sum up the experience in words.
"The theatre?"
It infuriated him, sometimes, how the things he struggled with, she could do with ease. "Yes, the theatre."
She took his arm and pulled him towards the door, "It's called The Theatre of Hope."
-------------------
theatreofhope