Title: Wrongdoings

Summary: Hiroki asks the wrong advice from the wrong person for the wrong girl. AU Hiroki/Kayoko, Shinji/Takako

Genre: Humor/Friendship

Rating: T (for language)


The meat balls went straight into his mouth and then some of the sauce dripped from his lips. Hiroki Sugimura had no choice but to observe the person in front of him, not that he wanted to in the first place, because that was all he was left to do: watch him eat.

This was not a date. Clearly, male friends would not usually tolerate these types of man-chats. Men by nature were made to be full of themselves—their ego, most often than not, would compete with the brain and the stomach for size and essence; the three would chameleonize (Chigusa, 2009) depending on situations but would somehow always thrive to end up where one of said organs were fully satisfied and maximized. Man-chats were a definite negative for maximization.

Clearly, male friends would not tolerate these types of man-chats; and he would reiterate that this was not a date. But as Hiroki looked around and contemplated his current situation, he hesitated to admit that he just perpetually made himself the walking antithesis of his claims.

So in his mind, as he watched Shinji chow down another poor meatball, he corrected himself. Male friends would not tolerate these types of man-chats—except for the discussion of near-death experiences aka girls. And men's desperation for them (Chigusa, 2009).

Hiroki cleared his throat, "Not chocolates?"

Shinji went for a glass of water and drank it all in one go, "Nope. Girls want something that lasts forever, whatever the hell," he sniped, curling the spaghetti ready to be devoured. Shinji was momentarily reminded of diamonds are girls' best friend, but only Nicole Kidman's legs were to lick for. (1)

"Mim, I'm a lowlife thriving in my parents' pockets so no diamonds for me."

"Sex," Shinji said as a matter-of-factly, "Diamonds aren't enough to rock it hot and heavy, and shit I say that with no pun intended."

Hiroki scrunched his nose in disgust, "I don't know Mim, but girls could pawn the diamonds and buy whores to have someone to rock it hot and heavy with."

Swallowing the smallest crumbs down to his stomach, Shinji retorted, "Taka wouldn't. Loves her diamonds 'cause she's vain and she's my favorite sin." Hiroki rolled his eyes at his friend's reference (2) and thought that was something girly to do, but hey, the situation called for it. Mim on a roll would always be Mim on a roll and that was not glossed with sexual innuendos, at all.

But arguably, Mim normally equated to sex, so…

"Yes, and I say you sound like a devil saying all these nasty things to me when all I ask for is proper advice," Hiroki took a breath, "Wrong person to ask, I say?"

Shinji stopped his eating and looked at his companion for a second. As if in thought, he looked at the dancing lights at the ceiling of the diner they were in. "Maybe. Food probably hooked me in."

Hiroki leaned back on his chair and tapped his nose. "Cake?"

"Fats, my friend. Girls would go all the way starting a campaign pro fat-ban 'cause they're fat-phobes. Extra miles just to burn them are always pain in the ass," said Shinji, his pointer finger moving sideways to emphasize his point of a no-no.

"But she loves running!" said Hiroki about the same time his mind started a, hey wait a minute, only to be cut off by Shinji.

"Chocolates are so yesterday," Shinji rolled his eyes to mimic a girl's natural reaction (and was doing great actually) as he continued, "...besides, cakes mean birthdays and birthdays mean ages and ages mean they're old enough to look like your grandmother that you feel so gross fucking, not that you would, but—"

"—I get it, I get it. Geez," Hiroki cut his friend off, raking a hand through his long hair. Suddenly, he felt like having a haircut. His wits were splitting as the ends of his hairs were.

"Prest-o!" said Shinji as he started on the pizza. Hiroki unfortunately was still at zero point progression and the food supply was running out. He decided to catch a slice himself—maybe his brain cells needed a carbohydrate boost.


"Might as well wrap it in a Kleenex and hand it over the moonlight, complete with a serenade and a red rose."

This was really going nowhere, "So you say she'd go all sentimental on me and cry?"

"Nope, but you won't be getting any kisses either 'cause that's just lame by universal law," said the ace player, signaling the waiter for a refill of his iced tea.

"You probably never tried doing it and you diagnose it like it's a plague," Hiroki said, smirking.

"Only to get skinned alive after? Thanks, but no shit. You and I know she's not that type of girl."

"She is not?"

"Dude, no. She doesn't swing that way."

"So she doesn't swing that way and she'd skin you alive after? By what, thorns on her flower arrangements?"

Shinji shrugged, "Girl gets creative."

Oh hey, wait a minute, Hiroki started on his mind; why was he stroked on the feeling that they did not understand each other? Heck, he could bet his intestines they were not talking about the same girl either!

Shinji snapped him out of his thoughts when he said, "She could go sentimental sometimes. Might work, never tried but it could suit your suave," but only to get confused more.

Hiroki opted for one more try. It wouldn't hurt to throw, "How about a big surprise? Like a date?"

"She's not busy?"

Hiroki tapped his nose for the nth time that hour and paused, "She's…not?"

Shinji took in another slice and looked at Hiroki incredulously, "'Tis the season?"


"Yeah, she's due for—"

Suddenly, Shinji's phone on the table rang. A call was coming and Shinji, in the middle of his pizza eating, looked at his phone only to drop the unfinished slice in haste as he took the call.

From the other line, a crisp loud voice could be heard, "Where the fuck are you? I swear by your balls—"

Shinji made the motion to excuse himself that Hiroki was deprived of a chance to overhear the conversation. Once he was alone, he took a good look on the table—Shinji's bag, Shinji's unfinished slice, his own near empty plate, and his own nearly full iced tea glass—and then he sighed.

He then meditated where their conversation had abruptly ended before they were interrupted. Hiroki knew nothing of the flora and fauna, especially the flora part, but something in his gut instincts was telling him that orchids were not yet due around the month or the next two or so. Roses, he wouldn't know; chrysanthemums, birds of the paradise, bougainvillea—he palmed his face in frustration and thought that he probably needed to do some researching soon.

Miraculously, his brain cells were jigged as he realized something. Thank God something good came out of that stupid face palming because his forehead was throbbing so bad. His mind went suddenly tsk, tsk, tsk and he formed a sly, resigning smile as he finally got it. Track season, the fucker. Oh Mim.

He looked at where Shinji went; he noted that his friend's phone was still glued to his ear. Hiroki saw Shinji looked like he was in distress as he craned his neck to look outside—his best friend Takako was looking hot and deadly as she flipped her phone off and walked towards the entrance.

Hiroki anticipated for showdown as he remembered why he was having a man-chat with Shinji, of all people, in this normal weekday after class get together. He and Kayoko were about to celebrate their anniversary and he was troubled enough to get desperate and ask for help. Shuuya was busy with his band practicing and Taka was busy for track (hell yes, it was the season, damn straight Mimura) so the only left person was Shinji. As the pair approached him—Shinji wearing that 'I'm fucking dead' on his forehead in invisible neon green glittering lights—Hiroki then remembered that it was not really exactly that Mim misunderstood what he was here for. Takako's birthday was around the corner too, oh it would be on the same week, and clearly, he was not alone in the predicament of getting desperate and asking for help how to properly please their respective girls.

Not that he would not give anything to Takako (ouch, his wallet had whispered); she would surely expect something from him even just a little greeting. It was just that, someone else was expected to make that day extra special; he used to make the biggest surprises for her on her birthdays but now someone else would fill the role. Technically, 'had filled' the role since it had been two years going three since he resigned from that position. He had to smile to that, oh come on, albeit a bittersweet one.

Clearly, he would attest, male friends would not tolerate these types of man-chats; and he would reiterate that this was not a date. But certain situations would essentially call for these things; right back at you Taka, girls and men's desperation for them, damn straight.

Then again back to the predicament—of course, Shinji would rather make it look like he was just there throwing innocent suggestions than admit it to Hiroki's face that he was troubled himself. Hell, the martial artist realized, I'm in less deeper shit than he is. (And that was also not considering the newest reason Takako put on the list to kill his friend judging by the murderous look on her face, whatever that was.) He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from laughing.

Mim, even if you were shit at giving advice, you were a good friend...

"Oh, hello there Hiroki," said Takako, one hand resting on her hip. She eyed the pizza warily and sat on the table, sipping on Shinji's drink.

"Hey you yourself, no trainings?"

"Done," she replied tiredly, closing her eyes shut for a good second.

"So, going home?" Hiroki asked innocently.

It took a while before Takako had responded a long, reverberating and heavily-emphasizing, "YES." One look at Shinji's grim face told him that plans, whatever they were, were definitely cancelled for tonight. Hiroki shot a look back at him with a defensive, "Don't look at me, not my fault!"

Takako merely raised an eyebrow without looking at Shinji who was standing right behind her chair. He had to be astounded when Shinji muttered something about getting the car ready and taking his leave. It was as if speaking was not communication (3) between his two friends and he had to be amused at Takako's third eye somewhere in her scalp, complete with eyebrows and all. (Oh shit, creepy).

His best friend took on the last slice of the pizza as she asked, "So what's this all for?"

He smiled at her in response. "Kayoko, anniversary, gifts—something like that."

Hiroki was caught off-guard at Takako's full grin, followed by a mocking chortle.

"You asked Shinji?" she asked with disbelief evident on her voice.

Hiroki only looked at her and shook his head in amusement, "Oh hey, don't be so hard on him. He threw in a few suggestions and well—Taka, that's your boyfriend." He laughed, reprimanding her for being so hard on his friend of a player. If only she knew what had occurred in the conversation; but alas, the tables were the only witnesses forcibly sworn to secrecy.

She grinned back at him, flipping her long hair, "I know and even I wonder sometimes." She stuck his tongue out at him.

"You are such a bully."

"And you are such a baby. Don't listen to whatever he said," Takako advised him, "do it nice and simple. Anything from…the bottom of your heart."

Before Hiroki could even snide her at the weird remarks with the heart and all, Takako added as an afterthought, "…as they would say it."

He opened his mouth to argue back probably but his best friend cut him off with a motion of her hand, "Stop dithering and do it." (4)

Perfect, just perfect, like he knew it would always be in doing things the Takako Chigusa way. Stop dithering and do it. He smiled and made a thumbs-up, "Aye, aye, sir!"

Shinji came back to view, juggling his car keys in his left hand. Suddenly, Takako reached inside Shinji's bag and took hold of his wallet. She slammed it on the table, closed the bag and then rode it on her shoulder. She stood up.

"He's paying. Punishment for being so late."

She winked and left, meeting the player half-way. With a few words, Shinji got his bag from Takako and saluted Hiroki, unknowing that he would be rendered penniless in a few minutes.

Of course Hiroki would not purge Shinji's wallet whole, but he resolved that it would not hurt to take a few extra bills; after all, he was not accounted for it if Shinji found his wallet as empty as Hiroki's three-year old piggybank. He opened the wallet and saw bills, coins, Shinji's driver's license, ATM and credit cards, other identification cards, receipts and oh, Takako's picture. It was a picture in a beach; she was smiling beside a pail, a little shovel and a sandcastle on a breezy sunny morning.

Hiroki took the picture for better viewing and read the message at the back;

Fuck you.

Sister took this picture so no bikinis—Mom would kill me if I corrupted my sister's mind.

And keep this because I look so damn pretty in this, not to mention hot, I'd go gay for myself. I heard Canada's allowing it? You are invited, and then cry for some.

Whatever, I MIGHT be just missing you—no one to cuddle with on cold winter nights, no one to kiss me goodnight (and sister nor the dog doesn't count), no one to fetch me things, no one to bully, no one to piss me off, no one to drive me around town and drive me crazy too.

Shitty 23rd. Oh well, let's make up (and make out) on the 24th, fuck—two years. Yikes.


He had to smile, even only to himself at that. Hiroki billed out from the restaurant and walked home with a content smile on his face. A picture might just do it, he chuckled; certainly, with a less profane message at the back than the one he had just read. Or that along with a serenade, chocolate, roses, cakes--hell, anything simple and from the bottom of his heart, really. He could impersonate a flower man, a flower bed, a flower person; yes, just as long as it was from the bottom of his heart, problem solved.

He was no lunatic, but he laughed at the middle of his walk. Girls and men's desperation for them, damn straight.


A/N: I feel like giving the longest author's notes ever. Because this was senseless and all that and it's three am. I am so going to fish that card out to bail myself from any OOC-ness and grammar nazi nightmares.

To imjuzakyd, oh funny, everytime I try to write that other fic, something just keeps popping up. This is the second time. And well, this is not tearjerker material, huzzah.

Dedicated to my friends in this fandom—jenizaki, SkyLilies, Hickoryflower and reviewer, Myarah (oh gawd, did I spell that right)—you guys rock, thank you for keeping up with my crappiness (thanks for the reviews on 2920 Days). Seriously. I'd purge myself of BR Takako/Shinji inspirations and I hope you're there until I ran out.


(1) Moulin Rouge

(2) From the saying, "vanity is the devil's favorite sin."

(3) From Bleach, on Ichigo's shirt on one of the covers.

(4) Isn't that Takako's motto or something in the manga?

Also, Taka is counting by months, not by years. So the message on the picture was sent on their 1st year, 11th month (lawl, wow) so 24th month = 2nd anniversary. Yes, I just did Math.

And I also see Taka as the one wearing the pants in their relationship; she's such a strong girl, Shinji couldn't tie her down except in bed. It's 3 am so I'm rambling. Pardon me. I mean, yes/yes on this? Agree with jenizaki, that Taka could probably eat Hiroki whole.

That's all, I'm going to post this fic I'm talking about to imjuzakyd, once I get to finally finishing it and the MUSES JUST NEED TO STOP APPEARING OUT OF NOWHERE IN FREAKING 3 am.

Review? Cheers.