Title: Fifty Fangirls
Disclaimer: Standard ones apply.
Notes: I wrote this in my live journal a long while ago because I was feeling stupid and decided to post it here for the sake of not forgetting about it.


When Eiri heard Shuichi's voice in the hallway, he immediately grew to be suspicious. The singer, after all, was not in the habit of talking to himself, nor were his words directed at Eiri. This led Eiri to the conclusion that Shuichi had brought someone back with him to the apartment, and Eiri did not particularly like said conclusion. He pressed his ear to the door and listened carefully, trying to pick out a second voice.

"And this is the kitchen," Shuichi said.

There was an unfamiliar murmur of reply. Eiri furrowed his brow.

Footsteps approached and Eiri's suspicion grew exponentially. More than one visitor? Hm. Eiri backtracked to his desk and saved his document. Just in case.

His timing was wonderful, as it turned out, as Shuichi threw open the office door just as Eiri was closing his laptop. "And this here is Yuki's office, where -- Yuki!"

Eiri stared at Shuichi and then eyed the mob of women crowding behind the singer. "Do I even want to know what's going on here?" he asked.

Shuichi started to answer, but there was a delighted cry from the mob. Eiri tried to escape as a wave of young women surged past Shuichi and swarmed around the writer, but no avail.


"Yuki Eiri-sama!"

"Yuki-sensei, I love you!"




Well, shit. Eiri had nowhere to escape. He ended up backed against a wall with screaming girls all around him. One was ripping books off os his own shelf and thrusting them at him, demanding that he sign them for her. Others were pleading for a smile, a touch, anything. Eiri, however, was still somewhat in shock and could only search continuously for some means of escape.

Shuichi, it seemed, was facing a similar problem. It seemed he had been exercising only a trace of control over his group and, now that this measure of control had been lost, was being doted on to a similar extent as Eiri himself.

Eiri felt a hand wander to parts of his body he did not particularly want touched at that moment in time and, upon realizing that Shuichi was receiving similar attentions, grew to be a bit angry. After taking a moment to gather his sense, he burst free of the mob of women, grabbed Shuichi by the hair (the only easily-visible part of the singer) and bolted out of the room. He slammed the door before any of the strangers could tail them and fell back against it. Already he could hear the women trying the door knob and pounding on the other side. He reached up and over to lock the door and then let out a relieved sigh, sinking into a sitting position.

Shuichi, after prying Eiri's fingers off of his hair, collapsed into a seated position next to Eiri. "Phew," he breathed. "That was kind of scary, huh?"

Eiri turned his head to glare at Shuichi.

The singer meeped. "What? What'd I do?"

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Eiri snapped.

Shuichi's words ran together as he tried to explain himself. "I got out of work early today and the place was mobbed and we couldn't get out and I wanted to come to see you but I couldn't do anything and it's K's day off, so he couldn't do anything, either, and so I ended up promising to take twenty of 'em on a tour of the apartment and they had a contest to find out who could go and I brought them here and --"

"And now there are twenty crazed fangirls locked in my office," Eiri finished. "Great."

"Fifty," Shuichi corrected, flushing slightly.

"Fifty?" Eiri repeated. "You said only twenty won the --"

"There were lots of ties," Shuichi said glumly.

Eiri groaned. "Even better." He bashed his head back against the door and was answered by the renewed vigor of the women locked in his office. "So there are fifty crazed fangirls locked in my office. Wonderful. Just... wonderful."

Shuichi squirmed. "I didn't think you'd be home," he murmured.


"S'just... You're usually not here on Thursdays when I get home so I kinda' thought you'd never know if I brought them here and..."

"And that's supposed to make it all right?" Eiri asked, quirking an eyebrow at the singer. "You are an idiot."

"I am not!"

"The fifty young ladies locked in my office serve to prove you wrong," Eiri snapped. "But I'll deal with you later." He frowned pointedly at the door. "We have to get rid of them."

Shuichi screwed up his face as he thought. "We could..."


"Yuki! You didn't even wait to hear what I was going to say!"

"I didn't need to," Eiri muttered. "I know it would have been stupid."


Shuichi's indignant cry was matched by the wails of the locked-in women behind the door. "Yuki-senseiiii!" they cried. Eiri made a mental note to go rummaging in the kitchen for ear plugs. In the meantime, he rubbed his forehead irritably.

"There has to be some way to get rid of them..." he muttered.

"We could just... let them out," Shuichi offered. "Or hide and let someone else let them out!"

"It doesn't matter," Eiri argued. "They know where we live, now, and there's nothing stopping them from coming back even after we do get them out of there!" He glared at his feet. "We might as well just..." He stopped. Hey now. That was an idea.

Shuichi furrowed his brow. "Just...?" he prompted.

"Go get some boxes from downstairs," Eiri said, getting to his feet.

"What?" Shuichi asked, scrambling into a standing position. "Why?"

"We have some packing to do."

Shuichi stared at him for a while longer and then, deciding not to question Eiri's idea, went downstairs to do as he was told.

Three hours later, the couple was busily settling into their brand new apartment on the other side of Tokyo. They were hanging up clothes in the new closets, rearranging furniture, and chatting amiably about how nice their new neighbors were. Neither of them even attempted to talk about how they had been forced to leave Eiri's office furniture, books, and laptop behind. Why ruin a good thing?

On the other side of Tokyo, fifty fangirls whimpered pathetically and promised themselves that they would never try to grope Yuki Eiri-sensei ever again.

the end