Title: Hallo America!

Alternate Title (if applicable): Atobe in America

Summary: Fresh out of Oxford with his new valet (old lackey) Kabaji by his side Atobe is off to the States to visit Oshitari and co. However, when bodies start dropping at his feet, will he be able to cope? R&R

Notes: This story is written in the first person and is rather ridiculous. I don't think it's OOC but if you notice any continuity errors with the characters feel free to point them out to me in a review or private message.

Rating: 12 ish (Low PG-13-High PG for US readers).

Why? Because of violence and drinking I suppose, not much other reason.

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Chapter One: Hallo America!

It was a bright sunny day that Kabaji and I set of the Americas. Well, other than a few clouds obstructing the sun it was bright and sunny. Kabaji was packing my cases full of the hippest and newest styles for my swinging trip and I was admiring my travel-gear in the mirror.

'Kabaji?' I said, after surveying my glorious clothes for a few minutes. 'What was the name of that famous dandy who was into elegance and bathing?'

'Beau Brummel, sir,' said Kabaji, putting the detachable collars into their box.

It was a bit jarring to hear Kabaji call me 'sir', even though the honourary phrase had been used for the past four days. Kabaji was now my valet and it was expected but still… I guess I deserve it anyway.

'Beau Brummel, that's the one,' I straightened the tie and shook the head. 'I feel like Beau Brummel, elegant and well-washed.'

'Oosu, sir,' Kabaji nodded sycophantically and closed the case.

'Well, it's best we be off,' I picked up my hat and we took a quick taxi to the aeroport, checked our bags, and boarded the plane.

Kabaji was in commoner (i.e. "economy" as he liked to call it) and I was in Upper Class. I was just getting comfortable in my weird, red chair with a glass of red when I looked to my right and saw an unfortunately familiar face.

I put up my privacy screen and started watching Music & Lyrics with Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore, hoping he would just pass me off as a rather perfectly dressed seat-mate.

Unfortunately this plan didn't work, when he got up to use the lavatory he (rudely, I might add) looked over my privacy screen and recognised me at once.

'Atobe!' he said, smiling broadly. His stupid gingery hair looked un-kempt and he was wearing a ridiculous orange jumper (with cobalt patches on the elbows) over a blue shirt with vivid green and pink striped trousers.

'Jiroh,' I said, pretending to not be repulsed by his outfit and his annoying disposition. 'Fancy meeting you here…'

'Yes, fancy that,' Jiroh was way too excited. 'Are you off to Oshitari's place too?'

'Ugh,' I felt the beginnings of a headache behind my left-eye. A month with Akutagawa Jiroh? I had to suffer him enough during secondary school. Thank God he went to Cambridge so I only had to drunkenly brawl with him after the boat race. 'Yes.'

'Brilliant!' Jiroh jumped up and down and a particularly attractive flight attendant shot him a threatening look. 'Well, I best be off to the lavatory! See you in New Hampshire!'

I rolled the eyes put my headphones back on. This unexpected development was not greeted with happiness on my part—as you've probably gathered—Jiroh is usually the bearer of trouble and all forms of silliness.

When we arrived in the States (at the aeroport in New York) we had about fifty minutes to find the car company and rent a limo. Kabaji found the place, picked up the limo, and were heading Northwards in forty minutes (I watched the clock).

I was annoyed, not just because of the unfortunate-ness that was Jiroh but also that I had had to talk to him in the first place. Father wanted the Atobe Corporation to 'go green' so to speak and that meant that I had to drop the comfort that was my jet and four helicopters and take … it embarrasses me to say it… Virgin Atlantic. Father pointed out to me that at least it wasn't Continental but that's not much consolation. Oh well, at least they had good films and loads of the booze.

It took us two days—by limo—to reach Oshitari's place in northern New Hampshire, a bit north of a place called 'Colebrook'.

I mused to Kabaji about the pine forests and green mountains but I get the impression that he didn't really care.

Upon arrival Oshitari's butler—Valdez—took my luggage up and helped Kabaji and I to our rooms. I was all planned and set to take a quick nap (it's odd how when one is in a car you get more tired than if you'd just walked six kilometres) and was just stretching out on the bed when an obnoxious knock awoke me. I got up and walked over to the door, dreading the silliness with which I was to be greeted.

My suspicions had been correct; Jiroh. 'Hallo 'Tobe!' he was already in his dinner clothes, even though it was just five o'clock, and there were biscuit crumbs all down the front. 'Valdez told me where your rooms were. Beds are quite soft, aren't they?'

I rolled the eyes, an action I'd frequented far too many times for my taste on this supposed sojourn. 'They're great, Jiroh. I was just going to exercise mine, do you mind?'

'No, no, 'course not,' he grinned stupidly. 'Shall see you at dinner!'

I shut the door harshly and took off my shoes. I was just about to take off my jumper when there was another knock at the door.

I stormed over and opened it furiously. 'Jiroh! I told you to bugger off and leave me to my rest!'

'I'm not Jiroh,' answered an annoyed looking Oshitari.

'Oh, sorry, I thought you were.'

'Yes, well, I'm not.'

'So I gathered.'

We stood there for a few moments and then Oshitari gave me a wide smile. 'It's good to see you again 'Tobe. Your stocks have been skyrocketting since you went green.'

'Yes, well, you own quite a good deal of them so that benefits both of us, doesn't it,' I paused, and then remembered that I'd not seen him in a few years. I quickly rearranged the face into the 'great-to-see-you-again-old-chum' look. 'Great to see you again, old chum!'

'What do you think of the place?' he gestured around proudly. 'Swanky, ain't it?'

'Indeed,' I grinned, it was nothing like one of my country houses. However, I'd learned since secondary school to not show off around just one person, you need many people to whom you should display your splendour. One time, just after I'd taken the GCSE and then the PSAT (so I was open for all schools, internationally) I was chatting with Lord Cottington about the fam's new place on the Cote D'Azur and expected he would spread it around and make other people jealous, ask me for invites, &c. Of course, he didn't do anything, he just told his daddy (a quite envious Duke) who bought them a new place on the Cote… then he spread around that he and his fam had a place on the Cote, everyone got jealous and I—

Where was I?

Oh yes:

'Indeed,' I grinned.

'You probably want some rest before dinner,' he was obviously quite pleased with himself. 'I'll send your-man Kabaji up to get you in time for you to prepare and what.' He stopped a moment. 'It's odd talking about Kabaji that way. Well, I suppose it's better than your-lackey Kabaji.'

'Rather,' said I. 'Much less degrading.' We stood there, rather awkwardly for a moment. 'Well, I'm going to nap a bit. See you at dinner.' I started to turn 'round when he grabbed me on the shoulder.

'One more thing,' he spat, quickly. I brushed his hand off the shoulder. 'My guests will be friends of mine from all over. I would like it if you could play nice with them.'

'Play nice?' I was incredulous. 'I'm not a baby, you know. Anyway, yes, fine, whatever. I noticed Jiroh was here, you keep unpleasant company.'

'Yourself included,' he raised his eyebrows victoriously.

I couldn't quite think of a response to this that wouldn't get me thrown out—not that I needed Oshitari's stupid country house and his arse-headed company, just that I didn't quite fancy driving all the way back to NYC to hang with my stupid cousins—so I slammed the door and got to bed.

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Well, I hope you found that satisfactory. I was trying to write in the style of P G Wodehouse from the Jeeves books. Love those. Anyway REVIEW please! I love them and appreciate them!

Cheers,

Old Fiat NFR

(buy/drive fiat)