Disclaimer: I do not own Yami no Matsuei. Uh, and… Oh-no! Have I run out of lame jokes to tell! NOOOOOOOOOO!
Hisoka: Wierdo…
Kanan: Oh! I like you too, Hisoka! –kisses his cheek-
Hisoka: -falls over-
Soaps
The day was long and tiring. Tatsumi was still in his office after-hours (which was about 7:oo in the evening), writing a report on the events of the day. As expected, Hisoka finished his work early and napped most of the day on the sofa in the conference room. Tsuzuki and Terazuma got into another argument and a window was broken during their spat.
'Thank goodness it was only one.' The shadow master thought.
Also, Wakaba turned in a rather large stack of paperwork, but most of them had large drawings of Terazuma on them and needed to be redone. And then, there was Watari… so far, he had blown up his lab twice, broken a coffeemaker, somehow managed to make Konoe throw his back out, and who knows what else he could have gotten through with, unnoticed. Once again, Tatsumi had his own coffeemaker. And now, now Tatsumi could hear the man in question swiftly make his way to his office wearing those damn-loud shoes of his. Tatsumi set down his pen and straitened his glasses, as his door was slammed open.
And there stood the cheery blonde, mad-scientist he knew so well. There was a crack in his glasses, burn marks on his cheeks, not to mention the few highly-noticeable strands of blonde hair that were singed; and then there was his large, goofy grin that never seemed to disappear. After a moment of silence, Tatsumi cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses again.
"…Can I help you?"
"May-be!"
"Can I or can't I?"
"I'm sure you're physically capable!"
Tatsumi sighed. It had been a long day, and he was in no mood to humor Watari when he was in a playful mood. His games constantly left Tatsumi drained and annoyed.
"What do you want?"
"To go to your place!"
"No."
"Oh, please? A special 'Days of Our Lives' is airing tonight, and you know very well that I don't have a TV!"
"Do I look like I care?"
"Oh, PLEASE, Tatsumiiii?"
An hour later, Tatsumi was sluggishly tidying up his workspace before he left the office. Sighing, for the umpteenth time, he drug his feet to Watari's lab, having lost the game from earlier, as usual. He adjusted his glasses and put on a strait face, to hide his exhaustion as he knocked on the doorframe. He heard a voice usher him in, and he entered and followed a small sound to the back room.
"Watari, are you ready to go?"
He suddenly stopped and stared at his friend. He knew what the sound was now- scissors. Watari was carefully trimming small patches of his hair that had been burnt during the day, or were otherwise ruined. Though, as Tatsumi noticed, no matter how much was cut off, the blonde's hair always stayed at the same length. Also, Watari had put on a spare pair of glasses, and had changed the bandages on his hands. What stuck out most, however, was the disheartened look upon the younger man's face. In fact, he had had that look a few times that day, when he thought no one was watching. Watari was hiding something; though he was good at it, nothing got past Tatsumi.
Though, the look changed. With one last trimming, Watari smiled and ran his fingers through his hair to admire his work before turning to Tatsumi.
"Ready!"