We Are Not At Home

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: the characters of Zetsuai/ Bronze are the property of Minami Ozaki.

Author: Ele.

That morning Izumi woke up with another splitting headache. He found himself lying on a sofa in the living room; a wide-screen TV set was soundlessly showing "snow" after all programmes were over. The clock in the tape recorder was in green light winking 5 a.m. Izumi, feeling somewhat heavy, got up, rewinded the tape he had recorded earlier that night, put it in the cover and added to several more tapes in the shelf under the TV set. Then he, worn out as if having played soccer all night, paced to the window and drew aside the curtain. The bright morning light nearly blinded him.

Izumi shuffled to the kitchen and put his palm on the kettle. Cold. Koji hadn't returned yet, that meant. "Good," -thought Izumi, - "lately I haven't had time for myself."

He made himself a cup of caffeine-free coffee. He knew he couldn't abuse caffeine because in one way or another it was a stimulator. Indeed, his heart started beating faster when he turned around, placing the cup to his lips. But it took him a fraction of a second to realize it was not coffee. It was Koji, standing in the doorway.

"Nice pajamas,"- said Izumi, swallowing a gulp. He shuffled back to the living room, Koji in his shining black and white metal concert outfit following him.

"You look as if having just rolled out of bed,"- said Koji in his turn, -"have you been recording my concert again?"

"I haven't. Your howling is not worth a tape. You should find a decent job,"- said Izumi. And then he flushed terribly as Koji was looking at the traitorously winking TV set Izumi forgot to switch off.

"Whatever. I'll go and take a shower,"- said Koji, with a note of victory in his voice.

Izumi returned to the kitchen. The emptiness of the fridge was inspiring awe. "We can keep books in here,"- thought Izumi, angrily slamming the doors of the fridge, -"I have to go shopping when the first shop opens. Koji-kid gets lost even being sent for milk to the corner shop."

But the emptiness of the refrigerator was a complete zero compared to Izumi and his resourcefulness. In a minute a pot was producing steam and the smell of food in progress slowly filled the apartment. And, naturally, lured downstairs Koji, who was ravenous. His changing room in the stadium was crammed with food he had ordered but he hadn't taken a bite, hurrying home. He even didn't change his last performance clothes. He caught a bus, which –to his relief- was almost empty, but he still caused a revival among the sleepy passengers. One old man reproachfully shook his head and snarled something bad about "the young generation," and –what Koji found really insulting- about "punks."

Now he entered the kitchen in the dark blue bathrobe (which matched his blond hair nicely and that was the main reason he had bought it), and sat down to the table. He had cleaned his make-up and now a small bruise was to be noted on his left cheekbone. Koji touched it by the tip of his forefinger.

"Shibuya was not amused about this,"- said Koji and drew a plate closer, -"the make-up girl had to put a double layer of everything on my face so I looked like some silly painted doll."

"You should bind yourself to bed to prevent yourself from falling out of it,"- Izumi sat down in front of Koji.

"I did not fell of the bed. I was dirtily pushed out of it,"- made a point Koji, winding the burning stuff in his plate.

"I just tried to win back my part of the blanket,"- said Izumi defending his position, -" because somebody took it all for himself."

"If you had agreed to come closer, you would have had enough of the blanket,"- Koji tried to prove his point.

"Oh, yeah, right. But every time I come closer to you, you start…you need…well, you know,"- answered Izumi, hiding his blushed embarrassment by mixing the food in his own plate. A phone rang, saving Izumi from discomfort. Koji grabbed Izumi's elbow as he passed by to answer the call.

"Don't,"- said Koji, -" today we are not at home."

"What if it's something important?"- Izumi tried to break free from Koji's grip. With, as always, no luck.

"What important can be at…"- Koji glanced at the watch on Izumi's wrist, -"at 5.45 a.m.?"

Izumi sighed and gave up. He was indeed sleepy and longed for nothing more in the whole world than going upstairs and crashing on the bed. Preferably, alone. The answering machine beeped and started recording the call.

"Hello, Koji, this is Shibuya…"- it started.

Koji landed his head loudly on the table.

"We have a meeting with that American record company manager today. I know you are an empty head and will definitely forget it so I decided to call. And don't pretend you are not at home. I'll send a car to you somewhere about midday. See you,"- Shibuya hung up.

"Well,"- said Izumi, -"you have a planned day. So do I. Next month we have some important matches, so we have to work hard. I go to catch some sleep. Wake me up when you leave- I've got some training to do."

Izumi reached the bedroom half awake, half asleep. He messed up in the bathroom cabinet for some aspiring to kill the headache and stretched on the bed. A terribly messed up bed, at that. "Some people never learn to make their beds,"- irritably thought Izumi, having to get up and make the bed so he could actually lie back normally, -"is this so difficult and requiring big brains?"

He was starting to doze off when he felt somebody crawling under the blanket and pressing to him.

"Not now, Koji,"- murmured Izumi, turning his back to that somebody, -"I want to sleep. Go and find yourself some bench to sleep over."

"I called the meeting off,"- said Koji, running his finger gently through Izumi's cheek.

"Mn? What?"- Izumi felt he was too weak to fight Koji's enthusiasm when he was half dead from sleepless night.

"I said I called the meeting off. Today I want to stay with you."

"Whatever,"- Izumi felt he was submerging into the sleep, -"just…don't forget to… wake… me...up…"

"Won't,"- promised Koji, and he lied. Having made sure Izumi was asleep, Koji turned off the alarm clock, the phone, his mobile, and the doorbell. Then he returned to the bedroom. He made himself comfortable next to sleeping Izumi. If the world cannot wait till they have time for the world, to hell with the world. Today they are not at home.

End

Revised 12 August 2005