Author: Hawk Clowd
Disclaimer: so far as I know, I own nothing.
Blood Type: Ick Guard. It's an anti-biotic thing for fish and I'm currently VERY mad with myself for buying that when my darling has Velvet, not Ick. Why couldn't I have just bought the copper stuff like I wanted to? *pouts* This is what I get for listening to store people... Anyway, Ick Guard turns the water a blue color. Thus why I'm using it for the blood type.
Warnings: very few. Excessive sap.
Archived: all of the usual places.
Author's Notes: my poor fish is sick. *sniffle* I wrote this to get my mind off of things... Such as the reports I have yet to finish. Rawr.
I was in the middle of a live radio interview when the phone call came. It was more than a little bit awkward--the reporter, Ohayo Oishi, had just asked me about Bad Luck's plans for a summer tour when my cell phone started belting out the opening strands of Rage Beat. It's funny, but you never really get to understand just how popular you are until you can recognize your cell's ring tone as your own creation. Anyway, Oishi gave me this look and I came really close to just letting the phone keep ringing--I mean, if it was important, than whoever it was could leave a voicemail--but I noticed that it was Yuki's number and changed my mind. Excusing myself, I went into the hall. Oishi turned on some music to kill the time, glaring at me all the while.
I flipped the phone.
"Oi. You need to get back here. Right now." Yuki did not sound pleased at all, which made me worry a little bit.
There was a brief pause. "Nothing," he answered finally. "Just get back here as soon as you can."
I started to protest, briefly glancing over at the sound booth. Hiro was trying to make small talk with Oishi and Suguru was... inspecting his fingernails? "I'm in the middle of an interview and then I've got to go to a photo shoot and then an autograph stop and--"
"Cancel." His voice implied that there was no room for argument.
"But why?" I pleaded. "I can't just cancel without a reason, Yuki!"
He let out this really irritated-sounding breath of air and I knew that he was a little pissed off. "This is not a request, Shuichi. I've already spoken with Tohma and I'm sure he'll make all the necessary arrangements with your dependents. So finish up whatever it is you're doing and then get that ass of yours back here before I go and fetch you myself!"
He hung up on me then, so I clicked out. Hiro was anxiously gesturing for me to get back inside and both Suguru and Oishi looked like they wanted to boil me for supper. I guess the commercials were coming to an end or something. I just groaned and went back inside, hoping that Yuki would at least wait an hour longer for my interview to finish up before he came after me and caused a scene.
I did manage to finish up the radio thing without any further problems and someone (Seguchi-san?) had apparently called K and Sakano and ordered them to let me go, so they didn't argue with me at all when I grabbed my backpack and bolted out of the radio station. I was wondering about it all the way back to the apartment; what could possibly be so urgent that Yuki would call me on my cell phone?
When I finally arrived, I saw Yuki throwing things into suitcases haphazardly, which was definitely a change from his normal neat-freak and super-calm demeanor. I stopped and stared; I don't think he noticed me at first because he didn't look up at me until I started to talk to him.
"What's going on?" I asked.
He didn't answer me right away.
"Shut up," he growled. "Just go pack a few of your things--anything you can fit into one large suitcase. And I'm talking about clothes, not stupid costumes or music or anything like that. We only have an hour until our plane is supposed to leave, so get started."
"Our plane? But Yuki, I--"
"I told you to go!"
I winced and drew back as though I'd been hit in the gut. I was stunned. Yuki hadn't yelled at me like that for a long time and his tone of voice really stung. Deciding it wasn't worth the time to argue with him, I retreated into my room to do as I had been asked. My suitcase was already laid out on the bed and the closet door was open, so I started pulling things off of their hangers and tossing them into the luggage. I didn't want Yuki to yell at me again, after all... Some things just aren't worth the penalty.
It didn't take me long to fill up the suitcase with clothes and shoes and toiletries. You know, important things like hair dye (my roots were beginning to show and I'd planned on re-dyeing it that night) and toothbrushes and all that. I threw some of Yuki's things in there too, the stuff he'd probably forgotten about, like his razor and hairbrush, just to be prepared. I had no idea where we were going or how long we'd be away, after all, and it's always better to be safe than sorry!
Once I'd finished the packing, I dragged my suitcase back into the living room, where Yuki was methodically checking each and every electronic device in the house to make sure it was turned off. Upon seeing me, though, he grabbed my suitcase and put it next to his, which was already by the door, and then he went back to checking the appliances. I guess things like that would seem weird to most people, but I didn't think twice about it; Yuki always goes around checking appliances before he leaves the house. It's some sort of nervous habit of his. When that was done, he wordlessly went to the doorway and put on his shoes, jacket, and sunglasses, indicating that I should do the same. I did, wondering all the while exactly what was going on.
The ride to the airport was most definitely not a silent one; I spent most of the time heckling him and asking where we were going and why but he just kept telling me to shut up and enjoy the ride. And when we finally got to the apartment, I sort of figured I could tell where we were going by the flight schedule when Yuki picked up the tickets, but no such luck. It seemed he'd arranged it so that we could just walk on the plane, luggage and all, without having to stop anywhere first. He said we were late enough as it was without bothering with technicalities and that he'd called ahead. Normally I would have praised him for being so smart and cool and stuff, but this time I really just wanted to know what was going on. It wasn't fair! Why would Yuki drag me out of work like that? Where were we going and why was it so important?
We were in first class with only four or five other people, and I think they were all foreign because they only gave me confused looks when I asked where the plan was going. I guess they didn't understand Japanese.
It was a fairly long flight, which Yuki took advantage of by working on something--probably a new book. He was writing by hand, which is weird for him because he has really bad handwriting and he knows it. I kept interrupting and asking questions, so he eventually pulled an old CD player out of his bag and turned the volume up super-loud so that he couldn't hear me. I don't even know what he was listening to, which only made it worse, and since I had nothing to do, I just curled up in my seat and went to sleep.
I didn't wake up until much later, when Yuki was trying to reposition me in the chair and re-buckle my seatbelt around my waist. I blinked at him wearily.
"We're landing already?"
He nodded his head. "Yeah."
"None of your business."
I gave him a look, but I ignored that. "You could have just woken me up, you know."
"I tried," he said coolly. When he started to go back to his seat, I took hold of his shirt collar and kissed him on the lips.
"I wish you'd tell me where we're going," I told him. "Well, where we are now, I guess. Why won't you tell me, Yuki?"
He rolled his eyes, getting into his seat and buckling up. "Because you keep asking. Now be quiet and sit still until we've landed."
"I said, be quiet."
I did as he commanded, of course, because he was getting that "argue with me and I'll leave you in the airport to suffer for the rest of your life" tone to his voice again, and that always spells trouble. For me, anyway. In any case, the plane landed without a hitch and we struggled with our luggage as we got off the plane. And, when we stepped off the platform thing and into the airport, Yuki handed the bags to a man in a uniform that had apparently been waiting for us to arrive... And then he quickly ushered me over to the large window overlooking the runways.
He pointed past the planes and the runways to the city beyond and I gasped.
"Yuki, is that the Eiffel Tower?" I was delighted; I'd always wanted to go to France.
He nodded. "Happy anniversary, Shuichi."
I paused. "What?"
"One year ago today, I told you that I would be your lover. Remember?"
I gasped. "It's been a whole year since then? Already?" I checked the date on my watch and my heart sunk as I realized he was right. I'd forgotten. "You took me to France and I didn't do anything at all for you! I can't believe I forgot about it, Yuki! I feel so--"
Yuki rolled his eyes and shushed me by putting a finger to my lips. "You can make it up to me later. I booked all of this two months ago; do you have any idea how hard it was to arrange it so that there would be no Japanese-speaking people on our flight? I knew you would ask everyone you saw exactly where we were going, so I had to be careful... And then your manager almost ruined it all by scheduling a full day of work for you, the bastard." He looked at me carefully. "Are you pleased?"
I nodded enthusiastically. "I can't believe you did this! It's not like you!"
He rolled his eyes. "I write romance novels for a living," he pointed out. "I'm an expert in all this sappy love crap. You should expect this sort of thing from me every once in a while, so don't act so surprised."
"But it's France! And I didn't do anything for you at all!" I protested, tearing up. I felt awful; he'd gone through all that trouble to arrange a romantic rendezvous for me and I hadn't even remembered that it was our anniversary.
"I told you, you can make it up to me later on."
I looked up at him imploringly. "How? I left most of my money at home because you were rushing me so much and I can't afford to get anything nice for you, at least nothing quite so nice as a trip to France, and--"
He pulled me into a hug, which was odd all in itself. For one thing, we were in public and Yuki hates doing stuff like that in public. And, for another, he was hugging me, which is just plain strange for him. When he squeezed my rear tenderly, I understood that the hug was just a cover.
"I'm sure you'll find a way," he murmured in my ear. "Maybe you'll figure out how after you see our hotel room."
I giggled. "Yuki..." I kissed his cheek softly, barely brushing my lips over his skin, as he pulled away. "Thank you."
He smiled a genuine smile. "Happy anniversary, Shuichi."