Disclaimer: Hotaru's red, Akira's blue, I don't own SDK and neither do you.

Warnings: Eventual light Yukimura/Sasuke, Benitora/Yuya, though there will be hints towards other pairings these are the ones intended. . . And I have no clue what Saizo's last name is. ; Just thought I'd throw that out there in advance.

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Shut up while you're ahead: Chapter 1

Saizo walked casually into the diner. He adjusted the bandanna on his head slightly, looking around. Upon second glance it was more of a bakery than a diner, but they served coffee and breakfast, so it was good enough for him. But that wasn't the real reason for his visit. He'd heard some talk about the people who work here . . . specifically one person in particular. From the description, he was exactly what Saizo had been looking for.

He's incredibly strong, Saizo remembered as he seated himself in a small booth facing the kitchen activities. What was his name . . .? Sake, no, that's what Yukimura-sama likes to drink. . . umm. . . Sasuki . . . Daisuke . . . we'll he'd remember it, later. From what he heard, this Sake guy had a bit of an attitude problem, but that wasn't really a difficulty so long as he fit the criteria.

"Hey heeeeey," A random customer with sideburns and a mullet (because mullets are the epitome of evil) whistled as a short younger-looking waiter with white hair came out of the kitchen carrying a coffeepot and looking sour. "Can we get some coffee over here, kid? Yeah, you, pretty boy."

The waiter glared, but walked over nonetheless.

"Ooh. I'm sorry, I've offended you," Mullet man grinned sarcastically, "Hey, you wanna come with us later? I'm sure my buddies would pay good money for your services elsewhere." He laughed with his friends and snorted, slapping a nearby shoulder,

"Are you done?" Gold eyes narrowed dangerously. Clearly, they'd never been here before.

"Heh. Could I have some more coffee, pretty boy? Looking at you is making me thirsty."

Before he could say another word, the boiling hot coffeepot was completely emptied onto mullet man's ugly cargo pants, making them even uglier than before. Saizo covered his ears for the scream that soon followed as our mystery waiter smirked superiorly.

"Why you--" mullet man clenched his teeth as he jolted from his seat and took a punch swing at the waiter's head. The smaller man dodged effortlessly and planted an elbow in his side, causing mullet man to gape his mouth open as he keeled over in pain. A challenging glare was shot at mullet man's groupies, all of whom were even dorkier than their leader, and therefore, unable to defend his pathetic name.

Seeing the opportunity to quit while they were ahead, the groupies put a twenty on the table and dragged mullet man out by an arm. Meanwhile, the young waiter had made his way over to Saizo's table.

He stood for a few seconds, as the two stared awkwardly at each other.

"You. . . " Saizo looked very serious as he tried to sound professional. He'd finally remembered the boy's name. ". . .Your name is Sarutobi Sasuke, isn't it." He announced rhetorically.

Sasuke maintained his deadpan expression, glancing curiously down at his nametag to make sure it was still there.

The guy acted like he'd achieved something by saying his name. However, it was there, which merely proved that this guy heard of him by some odd chance and was an idiot for not noticing his nametag, or that he was trying to sound intelligent by saying the name on the nametag, which would also make him an idiot.

"um. . .yeah. . . " Sasuke looked at the decided idiot.

"I saw how well you fought over there. You're pretty strong."

"I guess. What of it?"

"You know, of course, Sanada Yukimura . . . the singer," Saizo mentioned calmly.

"Yes, he's giving a concert at that stadium tonight. No, I will not beat up a guy to get you tickets. Would you care to order something to eat?"

"You're jumping to conclusions! That's not what I'm talking about at all! Yukimura-sama happens to be a client of mine, and a close friend. . . I hope." Saizo twiddled his fingers shyly as he blushed after the outburst.

"Client?" Sasuke was becoming more attentive by the minute. We think. He asked a question. A one-worded question, but a good sign nonetheless.

"Yes. I'm a fashion designer. I custom design nearly all of Yukimura-sama's concert outfits and some of his personal wardrobe along with several other celebrities. You might have heard of me. My name's Saizo " he said hopefully.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Uhh. . . that is. . . I need your help." Saizo spread his hands out in frustration. Tact was wasted, here.

"I don't know anything about clothes."

Saizo sweat-dropped. "n-no. I meant your skills as a fighter to protect Yukimura-sama. I'd pay you. There's this guy who-"

"Do it yourself." Sasuke glared as he turned away. "If you're not going to order anything, then get out, I don't have time for this."

"And -I- don't have time to protect Yukimura-sama! Not to mention he'd suspect me!" Saizo stood, grabbing his arm, "Please, if you'll just talk to me for one second. . . "

Sasuke shook off the arm as if it were an annoying fly, now in a terribly irritable mood. He quickly walked into the kitchen, shutting the door carefully behind him and slapping his receipt book down on the counter. He leaned against the wall in a state of childish anger, when a figure crossing his path with another employee apron smirked down at him.

"I heard you lost your temper out there again. We're going to start losing customers because of you."

"Kotaro?" Sasuke looked up, all conflicting emotions floating out the window.

"And it's impairing your judgment. Here. Eggs. Table 4." The chef (apparently in need of a comb. . . and an eye) handed Sasuke a small plate of eggs. He didn't take it.

"They left."

"Oh. That's too bad. If we don't get some money soon, we're not going to last much longer, here." Kotaro scratched his head in thought.

"Umm. . . Kotaro?"

"hmm?" He stopped scratching his head a moment and looked down.

"well. . . you know that singer, Sanada Yukimura?"

"I don't see where this is going." He raised one visible eyebrow.

"His fashion designer wants me to be his bodyguard."

"Pardon?"

"He's outside right now."

/Crickets/

Sasuke continued ". . . he didn't order anything so-"

"YOU IDIOT! Does that job PAY?!. . . wait, what am I saying. . . OF COURSE THAT JOB PAYS! THAT GUY'S LOADED!" Kotaro yelled to himself, pacing the room quickly with the plate of eggs.

". . . but I don't want to. . ."

"Listen Sasuke, if we don't get some money soon, we can't pay the rent OR the mortgage on this restaurant. . . and we won't even be able to buy those little rice crackers you like so much!"

Sasuke frowned. He liked those rice crackers.

"See?! Now go out there and be a good boy," Kotaro pushed him out of the kitchen. Poking his head out of the door, he grinned, gave a thumbs-up, and mouthed 'I'm counting on you.'

Saizo sighed as he got up. He'd sat there for a couple minutes wondering what he should. . . or rather what he –could- do next. Yukimura-sama had many bodyguards to keep away the crowds, but he didn't have any personal guards. Saizo was good friends with him, but did not have the authority to tell him what he needed or didn't need. When he delivered his most recent outfit to the studio, he'd noticed Yukimura-sama's manager getting a little too close. Unhealthily close for a business relationship, that is. Yukimura- sama, Saizo thought to himself, could not be very aware of people's personal advances considering he'd not yet noticed his own affection. Saizo blushed uncontrollably, putting on his coat. This was embarrassing. He needed to leave to try and find someone else who wouldn't let Yukimura-sama be hurt.

"Wait!" A voice stepped out in the name of justice for rice crackers everywhere.

"Hmm?" Saizo turned around to nothingness, and then looked down to a white head, and glaring gold eyes.

"What do I have to do?"

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Saizo smiled and nodded in verification as Sasuke took in the information that had passed between them in the past half hour at Saizo's fashion studio.

"I don't know. . . taping devices, taking notes. It sounds like I'm more like a stalker than a bodyguard." Sasuke said to himself before raising his voice, "So I'm not beating up the manager?"

"No, but you might have to if worst comes to worst. He's a martial artist, and the physical type. I'd watch yourself." Saizo popped open a bottle of root beer and took a swig, placing it on the counter and just. . . leaving it there as he walked on. His studio was a bit of a mess to begin with so it didn't matter much.

". . .You know what this sounds like?"

Saizo froze, frightened as the fizzy taste left his mouth, "h-huh?"

"You like him." Sasuke's gold eyes glistened in a smirk.

Saizo continued in his frozen state, suddenly becoming teary-eyed, and started to sob in quiet drama, "I-it's true. . . I do like Yukimura-sama. But you're too young to understand the pains of unrequited love." He continued to sob, as his assistant working on a dress in the corner sighed, reaching for the familiar box of tissues near her and handed him a few.

"Love?" Sasuke reflected, ". . . I don't think I've ever been in love."

"Never?" Saizo blew his nose, thanking his assistant with a nod as he got up and walked to his office. Sasuke followed.

"No." He held the door open behind him, and leaned against it as though he were about to leave.

"I've known Yukimura-sama ever since we were children," Saizo walked over to his desk and opened the drawer, drawing out a large photo album. Sasuke sweat-dropped as he opened it and pointed to a picture, "See, there I am with . . . well, with the back of his head. He must have turned away for a second . . . Even the back of his head is beautiful. . ." Saizo blew his nose again.

"Okay, I'll try to protect him for you. Just until this whole thing blows over. . ." Sasuke smiled slightly. This guy wasn't an idiot . . . just idiotically in love. In fact, he found the whole situation rather funny. 15 dollars an hour was a good sum of money. It would keep the shop open, in any case. That's what Kotaro wanted.

Unfortunately for Sasuke, he didn't even think for one second exactly what he was up against.

"I know you will." Saizo said confidently, "please. I don't want him to be hurt, though I respect his choices, there's just some things that cross the line. Keep the tape recorder and this cell phone close by in case there's anything I should know about. I expect you here at 11:00pm every night after making sure Yukimura gets home safely."

"And I get there every morning at 8:00 undercover as a journalist for your fashion magazine 'Saizo says'. I got it. . ." Sasuke said, sighing (perhaps at the dorky magazine name?), as he walked towards the door in an attempt to leave.

"Wait! One more thing!" Saizo shouted.

Sasuke looked up from the hand he had on the door handle.

"Don't let him notice you're spying on him! He's not an idiot. He'll figure out I sent you. He thinks I'm over-protective."

Sasuke rolled his eyes. Gee, I wonder why. . . "Yes, yes. I understand. Now let me go home!"

"Alright just making sure you understood-"Saizo stopped short as the phone on his desk rang. He rubbed his head bandanna in confusion. This was just the operator phone. No one called on there unless it was within the building, and urgent. He picked it up, "Hello? This is Saizo . . ." his eyes widened as some message seemed to have been delivered. He put his hand over the receiving end of the phone and said "he's here." To Sasuke.

Sasuke raised his eyebrows and let go of the door as Saizo continued his phone conversation nervously. Who's here? Sanada Yukimura? Not now! He wanted to go home! This wasn't his day at all.

Saizo put down the phone hastily.

"H-He's here! Just play it cool, Sasuke. You're a new journalist for my magazine. How do I look? Do I look okay?" Saizo flattened out his shirt, "No, no! I forgot my watch. . . In my bag at home. What about my breath? My mints! My mints!" He went rummaging through his purse, and Sasuke continued to completely ignore him.

. . . Wait, why did he have a purse, anyway?

Saizo was busy rummaging through his things, looking worse than when he'd started, when Yukimura decided to walk through the door. He looked up, frazzled and open-mouthed.

"You look great, Saizo." Yukimura walked into the room.

"S-so do you Yukimura-sama."

"hahaha. How many times do I have to tell you not to call me '-sama', Saizo. We're friends, aren't we?" Yukimura stood there smiling in the doorway, lightly laughing to himself for a second before he noticed Sasuke standing inconspicuously in the back. Yukimura opened his eyes, looking slightly puzzled. The young man's shade of hair was strange to see, even knowing the young were partial to dyeing their hair these days. It wasn't only his hair, though. There was something different about him . . . something . . . almost inhuman. . . no. He was definitely human, just with an ethereal air.

Sasuke stared in awe. It was hard to explain the charisma Yukimura carried with him. Even in an off-stage environment, the singer had an air of superiority-- an unattainable level of greatness in aspiration for power and glory. Maybe it was only a speculation, but Sasuke felt right then that this man could very well take over the world with his smile. . . No. That's not right. But he might be able to take the music world by storm.

"And. . . who is this?" Yukimura regained his personable smile from the former shock. Keeping his eyes on Sasuke.

"A-ah!" Saizo regained Yukimura's attention, "That's a new journalist for my fashion magazine, Sarutobi Sasuke."

The young man bowed, "Nice to meet you."

Yukimura smiled at the old custom and bowed as well, though not quite so deeply, "So you're into fashion as well. Where have you studied?"

Saizo cringed from across the room, and moved to where it was difficult for Yukimura to see, pointing to his framed degree on the wall. Sasuke squinted to see. How the hell did he expect him to read that? Whatever. He'd just tell the truth.

"I haven't. I'm studying cooking."

Saizo slapped his hand to his head from across the room.

"Oh." Yukimura looked awed. He raised his voice, turning around "Saizo. I congratulate you on your good judgment. Anyone who can create a good recipe makes a wonderful writer. I might actually consider reading the next issue." He smiled so that it was impossible to tell if he was being sarcastic or not. Saizo assumed he was perfectly serious, and gave a nervous nod of thanks.

"I'll send you a copy, Yukimura-sama," Saizo answered as if he were given an order.

"Ahh. Is that Sake?" Yukimura pointed to a ceramic bottle by the window, walking towards it, and looking back at Saizo, "could we play a game?"

"It's not Sake. It's a vase." Saizo sweat-dropped forgivingly.

"I see." Yukimura smiled and turned around, still touching the top of the vase from his examination, "It's a shame you don't have any flowers to put in it. The Azaleas are very nice this time of year."

Sasuke made an 'hmph' sound at the mentioning of Azaleas. Yukimura seemed to have heard his comment, and frowned.

"You don't like flowers, Sasuke?"

"I don't like Azaleas. They're inconsistent." Sasuke corrected, glaring into the man's eyes with a steadfast determination that took the pop singer aback. Yukimura stared in surprise for a few seconds before going back to smiling.

"Interesting."

"Yukimura-sama, what made you stop by so suddenly?" Saizo tried to divert his attention.

"hmm? Oh. I was in the neighborhood, and just had a feeling I should. I'm glad I did." He looked at Sasuke once again, "you have interesting acquaintances."

"me?" Saizo asked. Yukimura laughed.

"Yes you . . . well, both of you, I suppose. Also, I just had Chinese food."

". . .?"

"Well, my fortune cookie said that a visit to an old friend would bring new admiration." Yukimura put his hand to his chin thoughtfully, smirking, "I've always admired you so I thought that you might have come up with a new fashion design that would make me admire you more. . . but I see, now, it might have meant something else."

"huh?" Saizo wondered what he was talking about. Chinese food? Fortune cookie? What? Sasuke was still leaning against the wall, but left his perch to turn around and look out the window so that neither of them could see his blush.

". . . well I guess I'll be going." Yukimura smiled, taking one last look at Sasuke's back before closing the door

Saizo collapsed into his chair with a sigh, "That guy drives me crazy."

A familiar song began to play in Sasuke's head, and little dancing Saizo chibis in Brittany Spears outfits came with them. The boy shook his head vigorously to get the image out. That was . . . so wrong. . . He held his head with his hand.

"What's wrong, Sasuke?"

"N-nothing." Sasuke stuttered nervously.

"Good. I expect you'll do a good job keeping an eye on that guy. I can't make any sense out of some of the things he says."

Sasuke only wished he could say the same.

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A/N: dun dun duuuuun.

Will Saizo ever find the mints in his purse? Will we get to see Yukimura in drag? Who the heck has been groping him? Will Sasuke ever eat a rice cracker again? All will be answered in the next chapter . . . given there is a next chapter. . . It all depends on . . . what I feel like. I want to make this Yukimura/Sasuke eventually. Does that scare you away?

Ps. Azaleas I heard somewhere are a symbol of fragile passion. Sasuke's laying an angsty blanket. /snatches Sasuke's angsty blanket away/ Bad Sasuke! No angst!

Thanks for reading! I'd love some feedback if you can spare the time.