Extemporaneous

by LostLoveLetters

In which a lapse of judgement and a flare of competitiveness leads to Karma and Gakushuu sharing a penthouse together. Or AKA the story in which two twenty five year olds act like five year olds, much to the exasperation of the people around them.

1. Chapter 1

A/N: So this takes place in the future and um, well, it might be easier to read this as an AU. Enjoy? 0_o

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Chapter 1: Demented is the Word of the Month

"So, shall we discuss the property value?"

The blond woman smiles winningly back at them, lips a glossy pink and cerulean eyes gleaming sharply in anticipation.

Karma flashes her a lazy grin in return. He can almost see the blinding dollar signs in her eyes, and wow, sharks really are the spirit animals of real estate agents, aren't they?

Karma leans back against the sofa and his eyes slide to his right. Asano still has a deceptively benign smile, legs crossed gracefully, not one ounce of tension in his frame. The picture of the perfect gentleman.

Karma knows better though. There is a glint to Asano's eyes that tells him Asano would much rather be throwing the tea in his face than calmly sipping it in the living room.

He surveys Asano for a moment. His cheekbones are slightly sharper, facial features more angled than before. His bangs are trimmed slightly to reveal his eyes more, the strawberry blond locks no longer reaching his ears. But, the navy blue suit and white collared shirt is as much of an emblem of authority and superiority as the school president armband was.

Asano looks every inch a formidable CEO, and it undeniably fits him. It's fascinating, really, how Asano manages to conceal his cutthroat lethality with the harmless charisma of a model in an Abercombie & Fitch ad.

Karma suppresses another snicker. To think he would meet Asano again after all these years . . . and while house hunting, no less.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

Karma hides a smirk and deliberately drawls, "Ne, why don't you be the better man, Asano-kun? I'm tired of looking at real estate listings. Have a little pity for me, won't you?"

Asano's eyes flick briefly to him – Of course, he would meet Akabane while searching for a new place to live because when has fate ever run out of sadistic tricks to play with? - and answers nonchalantly, "You're asking for sympathy from the wrong person. Business men are not known for being magnanimous." He raises an eyebrow and smiles pleasantly, "You're a bureaucrat now. Should you not consider the needs of the citizens before your own?"

Karma grins and says with a teasing lilt that makes Asano's eye twitch just so slightly, "I didn't know you were so optimistic of our politicians today. It's too bad, but I'm a completely selfish individual."

Man, it's so easy to rile up Asano. Karma wonders how long he can drag this out before Asano storms out of the room. Five? Ten minutes?

"How fortunate your current job is not an elected position then," Gakushuu intones dryly as he lifts up the tea cup. It taste too tepid for his liking, and he inwardly sighs. He should just leave, shouldn't he? This penthouse is not worth haggling over with Akabane.

He swears Akabane is like tomato sauce on a white shirt. You can never get rid of it, and the spill always happens when you least expect it to.

Gakushuu's eyes flick to him. He's dressed in an unbuttoned collared white shirt under a black v-neck sweater with matching dark, belted slacks. It lends him a sense of casual professionalism, but the laidback confidence in his demeanor leaves the lasting impression.

Akabane has not changed though. Taller perhaps than the last time Gakushuu saw him, his red hair a tad longer than before, and his features are more defined and pronounced now. But, the deceptively innocent smile playing on the edges of his lips and the mischievousness flickering in those golden eyes are still there.

All that wild recklessness and destructiveness somehow blanketed under a careless innocence. For someone with a mind shrewd enough to compete with him, Akabane is so frustratingly flippant and carefree.

In short, Akabane is still his infuriating self, and seeing him only brings back memories that sours Gakushuu's tongue.

He suppresses a frown. He should leave. Didn't his secretary mention another real estate listing that he has not checked yet?

Karma tilts his head at the sudden pinched expression on Asano's face and thinks that maybe ten minutes is too generous of an estimate. Asano looks like he's ready to leave any minute, and Karma has not even started teasing him yet. With a smirk, he responds slyly in response to Asano's previous comment, "How rude. I happen to be a delightful conversation partner, you know. Did you forget the wonderful, engaging dialogues we had in school together?"

Or he could kill Akabane. That is another perfectly viable option. Sure, the real estate agent is sitting across from them, but he spent months trying to set up his father. Surely, Gakushuu can think of some way to make Akabane stop talking right now. Preferably forever. He has a tea cup and a spoon, not the most conventional tools to commit murder with, but certainly not impossible.

The woman, in question, watches the two of them warily as they seem completely engaged with whatever silent conversation they're having right now. If the increasingly darkening auras from the two of them are any indication, it's not a particularly friendly one.

She clears her throat, "Ahem, gentleman."

At her words, the two immediately turn their attention back to him, and there is something unnerving about those golden and violet eyes pinning her down. This is . . . starting to seem like a difficult sale.

She smiles though because it's the first thing they teach you in real estate and damn it, Emiko is not going to beat her in sales this month just because this penthouse has been a pain to sell. Her eyes flick back to the two men. These two are the most promising buyers so far, and she won't let them slip away from her grasp.

She tucks her hair behind her ear and continues carefully, making sure to keep her voice pleasant and warm, "I think we're getting a little off topic here. Would it be better if I discussed the terms and conditions of the purchase separately with the each of you?"

To her dismay, Karma completely disregards her words and only turns to Asano to hum, "I'm curious. Why do you want this apartment? Ace-kun?"

There's a slight narrowing of Asano's eyes, no doubt in irritation at the nickname, but he merely counters coolly, "Why do you?"

Karma grins - although to be honest, it's a little irritating how Asano still has his impeccable self-control. Maybe ten minutes is not as generous of an estimate, after all - and offers, "I don't really. My boss keeps nagging me to get a more respectable place to live in." He raises his fingers to make air quotes and mimics the deep, gravelly voice of his boss, "Karma-kun, your lifestyle reflects too much one of a college bachelor than a bureaucrat."

He shrugs and continues in his usual voice again, "Or so he says."

"You need more than a change of residence, Akabane. Do something about your personality first."

Karma's lips quirk in amusement and he hums, "Eh? Isn't that the kettle calling the pot black?"

Asano gives him a sidelong glance and realizes aloud, "You're doing this on purpose."

Karma smiles and says innocently, "Doing what on purpose? Aren't you being a little too hostile for a seven year reunion?"

Gakushuu gives him an unamused look and says warningly, a hint of impatience in his voice, "If you waste my time, I'm perfectly fine with wasting yours."

Karma grins. He can tell that Asano's patience is wearing thin. Perfect. He leans back and turns his head to face Asano. "I could give you the same advice. Shouldn't you know better than to compete with me, Second place-kun?" He deliberately drawls the last words and smirks when Asano's expression tightens.

Asano narrows his eyes but answers deceptively calmly, "I see you're still reliving your glory days."

Karma shrugs and says flippantly, "Who says they ended?"

Gakushuu purposefully shakes his head and says in an almost pitying tone, "You're deluding yourself. It's not healthy to be living in the past."

He is pleased to find Akabane's eyebrows dipping ever so slightly as Akabane counters with the same grin, "It's not healthy to hold onto grudges either, Ace-kun."

Gakushuu says dryly, "As if you're not arguing with me right now just for the sake of irritating me. No one likes hypocrisy, Akabane."

"It takes one to know one."

Gakushuu represses a vexed sigh and instead announces curtly, "I already made my decision. I'm purchasing this apartment."

The woman speaks up then with raised eyebrows, "You are? I have not discussed the pri-"

"Did you forget I'm still standing here?" Karma tilts his head and frowns slightly, not appreciating the dismissive gesture from Asano. "Surely, your vision is still intact. Have you been skipping out on your carrots? Vitamin A is necessary, you know."

Gakushuu ignores him again and looks toward the woman instead. "What is the price for this listing?"

The real estate agent blinks in bewilderment. Honestly, she tuned out of this argument a while ago. She's not interested in mediating in what looks like much needed couple therapy for these two. In fact, if they're interested in buying just for the sake of one upping each other in some macho pissing contest, then hey, great. As long as someone buys this damned penthouse, she considers it a win.

She clears her throat and says smoothly, "Currently we have a standing offer of -"

"Don't you do enough bidding and price haggling at your job, Ace-kun?" Akabane interrupts once again.

The real estate agent's eye twitches slightly even as she keeps her pleasant smile plastered on her face. If they interrupt her one more time, she'll throw them both out, the sale be damned.

The red head does not notice though and waves a hand dismissively in the air. "Auctions are boring." His lips quirk up in a mischievous grin and with eyes wide and bright, he suggests tauntingly, "Let's… do something more interesting."

Gakushuu raises an eyebrow at that, intrigued in spite of himself. "Oh? And what exactly do you have in mind?"

"Hmm? How about. . ." Karma thinks for a moment and on a whim, proposes, "This place has two bedrooms." He smirks and continues "Let's see who can outlast the other. The last person to leave can have this penthouse to themselves. Fair?"

Karma knows Asano won't agree to it. But, the sheer absurdity of the image of them staying in one enclosed space makes him want to cackle aloud and he just can't resist throwing the idea out there. His lips twitch upwards again as he surveys Asano for his reaction.

Gakushuu stares at Akabane. He is only interested in this place because it's in a neighborhood that is respectable and yet low profile enough for him to avoid corporate rivals and their trophy wives. Quite frankly, he's getting tired of how transparent and gaudy those people are. If he hears one more person go on and on about the merits of golfing and spa retreats, he really might lose it.

. . . Or consolidate all of the golfing courses and spas under his company. Either or. People, after all, can't brag about something they no longer have.

That being said, surely, there are other places that meet his preference just as much. He is not desperate enough to accept such a suicidal request…

His eyes flick back to Akabane and his jaw immediately clenches at the deeply self-satisfied smirk he sees. His fingers tighten imperceptibly on the cup, but Gakushuu can feel the delicate china cracking under his grip.

It's the most asinine thing ever to compete for, petty even. It really is, and he knows it. But, the words are as much as a dare as the challenging gleam in Akabane's eyes, and damn it, there is nothing that he detests more than losing to Akabane. All he sees is that aggravating expression and suddenly Gakushuu finds himself saying, "Fine, I accept."

Karma blinks. What? He glances at Asano and shit, Asano looks completely serious. Karma recognizes that familiar glint in those calculative eyes, remembers seeing it countless times before in school.

His smile falters slightly because really? Asano is agreeing to this? But, backing down is not something he knows how to do and Karma tries to keep his tone light as he answers, "Alright. So do I."

Before either of them could say anything else, the real estate agent suddenly ventures aloud, "So, then, er, I'm sorry, but are you two agreeing to share the penthouse? As in . . . roommates of sorts?"

God, why are all good looking men idiots? Oh well, she'll make it work. Who cares if they share? This penthouse will finally be sold and she can finally be rid of it. Hell yes.

Asano cringes slightly and Karma does the same. Roommates? Her words make it painfully clear the insane decision that the two of them are making. And geez, Karma knows Asano has a competitive streak and he isn't any better, but this is extreme even for them.

Karma looks out of the corner of his eye, but Asano stays stubbornly tight lipped, clearly unhappy but unwilling to take back his words. He shifts restlessly in response and looks towards the woman. He smiles weakly and shrugs.

The woman suddenly beams at both of them and chirps brightly, "Excellent! Then, let me find a revised contract for you two." She turns to her briefcase and rummages through it before thrusting two shiny blue folders towards them. "Here. Please look over them and sign."

Karma blinks and takes the folder a bit bewilderedly. He surveys the woman again, noting the strange enthusiasm in her eyes and the giddiness of her smile. A successful sale would make any real estate agent sigh in happiness, but she looks thoroughly ecstatic.

Weird. He shrugs and opens the folder because what the hell; they might as well finish the dive off the deep end.

Gakushuu, on the other hand, gingerly takes the folder. He already feels the regret swelling up and stares grimly down at the document. He might as well be signing a contract with the devil here.

---

Gakushuu sighs and strolls out of the building. He must have been monopolizing and bankrupting his business rivals too much lately because isn't this why he met with karma? Figuratively and literally?

He frowns again. Akabane living up to his namesake is just another reason to detest him. He stops abruptly. Damn it. How could have he lost his composure and agreed to such a demented living arrangement?

Stressed. The stress from all the meetings this week must have gotten to him this week.

He sighs again. Yeah, he definitely feels stressed.

---

Karma scratches the back of his neck and wonders if he just did something too reckless, even for him. He's pretty sure that they just played a childish game of chicken back there, and with real estate no less.

He shrugs and continues walking out of the building. Oh well. At least the next few weeks should prove to be amusing. Messing with Asano has always been something akin to an extreme sport, exhilarating and precarious.

Karma grins then as he walks on with his hands in his pockets. Man, it's like they never grew up from high school.

---

Time: 10th Day

Gakushuu sighs as he turns the key and kicks open the door. A pink blur of fur swooshes towards him, and he neatly steps to the side, already have expected it.

He represses the urge to sigh again. It's rather fortunate that they are in the penthouse. God forbid, they had neighbors around to witness this. Akabane and he surely would have been on a first name basis with the police by now if that was the case.

Tapping a foot impatiently on the floor, he waits as the offending object, which Gakushu can now recognize as a giant stuffed pink monkey, swings more slowly back and forth before it dangles to a stop.

His eyes flick curiously towards the rope tied around the monkey in a makeshift harness and follow it as it loops along the bamboo divider towards the right. Gakushuu can see the soccer ball, the stool placed awkwardly in the middle of the entryway, and the trail of colored dominoes that follows behind it.

No doubt some type of ungodly Rube Goldberg contraption that Akabane had too much free time on his hands to set up.

He stares back down at the monkey who gazes back with gleaming glass blue eyes and a stitched happy grin. Its paws are tightly duct taped together in front of its chest to hold the small pocket knife in place, the blade pointing outwards.

Childlike innocence contrasted with homicidal tendencies. Gakushuu thinks wryly that the monkey is a mirror reflection of its owner.

There is a yellow post-it note slapped on the middle of its forehead with words scrawled in black sharpie: "Give up yet, Ace-kun? ＼(≧∇≦)/＼(≧∇≦)/ "

. . . Not surprisingly, the emoticons annoy him more than the words themselves. The whole thing is more of a taunt really than a legitimate threat. He and Akabane both know that it will take a lot more than a deranged stuffed animal to make him surrender.

Gakushuu sighs as he steps forward and works the knife out. With a flick of the wrists, he cuts cleanly through the rope. The monkey falls down with a soft thud, and Gakushuu stares down at it again for a moment before he shrugs and kicks it somewhere down the hallway outside.

It really is a blessing that they don't have any neighbors.

And that it's not a bucket of water this time.

He scowls briefly at the memory. That was entirely unpleasant, and he had responded with flooding Akabane's office with multiple reports of bankruptcy from nonexistent companies and banks.

To his satisfaction, Akabane had come back very late that night with a decidedly irritated expression after no doubt having to field questions all day.

Gakushuu smirks again. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. It's his self-mantra for this month now.

It's a little surprising that Akabane has not done anything more drastic or infuriating yet. He did not even fight over the master bedroom and had immediately taken the guest bedroom without a second thought. Something about it being the room with the perfect vantage point for throwing water balloons at the unsuspecting pedestrians below and annoying the tenants below them.

Although, because the original owners of the building were a frequently bickering, old married couple, the 'master' bedroom and the 'guest' room are built in the same size and proportions. It did not matter who got which room, and Gakushuu had only lifted an eyebrow at Akabane's explanation before taking the master bedroom without complaint.

In the past few years he has come to understand that there are some things in this world that cannot be explained, Akabane's psychotic mindset being one of them.

So, for the past week, while definitely annoying, Akabane's pranks have been mostly innocuous, ranging from eggs in his jackets, air horns in the shower stall, and pepper all over his files. There is a gleeful childishness to it that makes Gakushuu suspects Akabane is enjoying the chance to release all of his pent up mischief.

Gakushuu shrugs. He supposes he should take it as some sort of grace period.

He closes the door and carefully takes off his shoes only to frown as his eyes rove over the floor. Various shoes and sneakers litter the floor in some haphazard form of a minefield.

He narrows his eyes at the familiar sight because upon moving into the penthouse, he had quickly come to a realization.

Akabane is the messiest person he has ever had the misfortune to know.

It should not surprise him. Akabane is chaos incarnate, and it only makes sense that the wild recklessness bleeds into his surroundings as well.

But as Gakushuu surveys the area with an increasingly twitching eye, there is a difference between having a messy apartment and having a bloody hurricane decimate the place every goddamn day.

Gakushuu clenches his jaw as he stalks through the mess and turns around the black bamboo divider only to frown again at the ever increasing pile of clothes slung carelessly over the plush, cobalt blue sofa as he steps into the living room.

What is this? How does someone not know what a closet is meant for in this day and age?

He toes a stray black tie lying half crumpled on the dark wooden floor before Gakushu scowls again. Unable to bear the sight any longer, he turns sharply to his left, past the staircase and into the dining room only to stop dead in his tracks.

His fingers tighten on the leather strap of the briefcase that he has yet to put down. He's just – just speechless.

There are papers and folders scattered all over the dining table like an impromptu tablecloth of white and manila yellow. He can't even see the dark brown wood anymore. Wonderful. He adds 'filing cabinet' to the ever growing list of furniture and appliances that Akabane does not understand the functions of.

Gakushuu breathes out shortly in dismay and can already feel the headache building in his temples.

Or maybe it's the pulsing vein on the side of his forehead because as he turns and his eyes sweep over the toppling tower of pizza boxes and the confetti of empty chip bags on the kitchen island counter, Gakushuu does not understand anything anymore.

This isn't even a kitchen at this point. It's an exhibition for junk food abstract sculptures where Akabane showcases his useless talent for mixing the avant-garde with the style of the everyday hobo.

Why? Just…why?

Gakushuu leans against the doorway and rubs his temples in half incredulity and half irritation. The worst part of this is that Akabane is not even doing this on purpose. On the occasions that Akabane's messiness triggers the OCD he did not know he had, Gakushuu cleaned as best he could.

The end result?

Akabane nearly tearing apart the living room because 'where were the files that he placed next to the bento box on top of his blue jacket?'

Unbelievable. And even more unbelievable, why on earth is he still here? Why does he have to step into Ground Zero every time he walks through the damn door?

The disorder and sloppiness chafes him. Just seeing it is enough to make him stiffen in distaste. He cannot tolerate this.

Gakushuu furrows his eyebrows as he cringes at himself in sudden self-realization.

Why is he even tolerating it?

There are plenty of other perfectly suitable apartments. He does not need this apartment. They're in their mid-twenties, for god's sakes. He does not have time to be competing with some old school rival simply because he cannot stand the guy. Akabane is painfully insignificant in the whole grand scheme of things.

There are things Gakushuu still needs to do, like an empire to build, corporations to conquer, people to puppeteer, a world to rule, and whatnot. What is he competing here for?

Gakushuu shakes his head with a heavy frown. Done. He is done. Truly, what has he been doing?

He straightens. That's right. This is all a regrettable lapse of judgement, something all too understandable for being near Akabane. Stupidity is contagious, after all. He's going to walk out of this apartment and never look back on this miserable week of –

Gakushu blinks as he finally spies the white calendar. It's the type where you tear out the page each day. The current page has the number 10 printed in big, black font, and the phrase "DAYS UNTIL ASANO LOSES" in smaller block letters.

He dimly registers the leather handle squeaking as he clenches his fingers. Familiar white hot irritation and rage swells through him, and all he sees is that phrase and Asano's trademark smirk burning into his retinas.

He takes it back. He takes it all back. He is not going to be bested by Akabane, of all people. Not in school and not now either.

Gakushu pivots sharply and stalks out of the kitchen, violet eyes narrowing and lips thinning.

Leaving? The only way he's leaving this apartment before Akabane is in a body bag. And even then, very highly unlikely.

---

Time: The next bloody morning because goddamn it, who wakes up this early?

Karma groans into his pillow as the unmistakable beep of the coffee machine floats into his room. He's not even sure how the sound can penetrate though the door much less travel up to the second floor where the bedrooms are, but it does.

Since he moved in, the coffee machine has steadily inched its way to the top of his shit list.

. . . Or maybe that should be Asano because wasn't he the one who bought the coffee machine?

He growls and snaps his eyes open to stare accusingly at his alarm clock.

5:30 am.

Goddamn it.

And people have the audacity to tell Karma that he's the devil when who's waking who here at this ungodly hour?

Inhuman. Asano is inhuman. The guy is in charge of his own company, so Karma knows that he can wake up any time, and the fact that Asano still willingly wakes this early in the morning is – is – He's so sleep deprived he can't even think of the proper word to describe Asano's demented sleeping patterns.

Wait, demented. There we go. Demented. Asano is demented; his stupid coffee machine is demented; and his sleeping patterns are demented. Demented.

Karma frowns and closes his eyes again. Before he leaves for work today, he's going to do an impromptu gravity experiment, once that involves the window, his favorite baseball bat, and the insufferable coffee machine.

Karma nods to himself and turns decidedly into his pillow. Before he can even entertain the thought of sleeping though, a sudden loud rumble whirs through the air. Karma crinkles his eyebrows in irritation. What the hell is that?

He cranes his ears and fixates on the sound. Is that. . . His eyes slowly blink open in disbelief. Is Asano seriously doing his laundry? Right now? At 5:30 am?

The distinct rumbling of the washing machine echoes through the air again, and Karma seriously cannot understand for the life of him how Asano can pass for anything but insane.

Only Asano could have this hellish of a morning routine.

He groans aloud in pure frustration and glares darkly at the door. Asano is doing this on purpose, isn't he? There is no way that Karma has spent all this time, years even competing against someone who likes doing their laundry at 5:30 in the morning.

No, this has to be some twisted form of passive aggressiveness. Retaliation for his pranks this week. He would not put it past Asano to purposefully alter his sleeping patterns just for the added bonus of also disturbing Karma's.

Karma grumbles incoherently under his breath as he sits up. A wave of vertigo crashes over him and almost slams him back down on the bed. He has to blink for several seconds to clear the rain of iridescent green dots that bombard his vision, and even then, the room still spins in fuzzy shades of gray.

Damn it.

With his temples throbbing and the sluggishness of sleep still deadening his limbs, Karma gathers the comforter around him as he steps onto the floor. He immediately winces as the coldness of the wooden floor seeps through his socks.

God, he is more than ready to shove Asano, the coffee machine, and the washing machine all out the window. That gravity experiment will proceed earlier than planned.

After some fumbles and near trips, Karma somehow trudges down the stairs without a concussion and turns to his left into the dining room. He squints blearily ahead.

Asano is sitting at the dining table, calmly sipping his cup of coffee in one hand and reading the morning newspaper in the other. Karma did not even know that they delivered papers this early. But, more importantly, Asano looks so at ease and comfortable, as if waking up at five thirty in the morning is somehow normal. It sends Karma seething in irritation and his fingers twitching with the undeniable urge to wipe that expression off.

Or well, it does for five minutes until the hot rush of blood that surges along with his irritation gives him another throbbing headache.

Karma stifles another pained groan, and screw it. Arguing with Asano requires more energy than he's willing to spend. He wants to go back to sleep, back to his warm bed and his fluffy pillows and - god, yes, that sounds like a fantastic idea.

There is a soft clink of china against the table before Asano observes calmly, eyes still on the newspaper and fingers turning the page, "You're up early for once."

Eyelids already heavy with drowsiness again, Karma tugs the comforter closer to him and asks unhappily, voice still raspy with sleep. "What are you doing?"

Gakushuu glances at him, eyebrow lifting at Karma's disheveled appearance. His hair is tousled, strands of red hair sticking up wildly in whichever direction, and red sleeping lines are etched on his left cheek. With the black comforter draped over his shoulders and drowsiness still clinging to him, Akabane looks remarkably like a child who has been nagged out of bed, complete with the petulant expression creasing his features.

He was expecting a more….violent reaction. Still, this is not so bad either. It's a different side of Akabane, which admittedly is fascinating to see, but more than that, it's rare to catch Akabane so unaware like this.

Gakushuu represses an amused smirk and instead remarks patronizingly, "What does it look like I'm doing? You're not at your best in the morning, are you?"

Akabane blinks uncomprehendingly at him and says slowly, a note of incredulity and exasperation in his tone, "Asano, it's five…" He stops and turns to squint at the clock before finishing wearily, "Forty-five."

Asano makes a non-committal sound and flips the page once again. "It is."

"In the morning," Karma purposefully drags out the syllables because what does Asano not get about this? He does not wake up at five. No one wakes up at five. Asano should just get with the program and not wake up at five. Why is this so hard to understand?

Asano still does not look at him, choosing instead to continue perusing the paper. If Karma had the energy to, he probably would have shot a rubber band through the stupid newspaper already. As it stands now, he settles for glaring at it and mentally visualizing stabbing it and its unreasonable owner.

To his disappointment, the paper does not spontaneously combust and Asano only answers dryly, "How observant of you, Akabane."

Irritated now, Karma tilts his head with a smile a little too wide to be safe, "Ne, tell me the truth. Is this a cry for help? Do you want me to call the mental asylum and reserve a place for you? It's inconsiderate to interrupt the pleasant dreams the rest of us are having just because you feel the need to express your insanity, Asano-kun."

Asano skims the page and responds placidly, "It may surprise you, but there are people who do wake up in the morning instead of the afternoon. You haven't heard the phrase: The early bird catches the worm?"

It's irritating, no, insulting that Asano looks so peaceful reading the newspaper, legs crossed and already immaculately dressed in another matching suit and tie, when Karma is still feeling very much sleep deprived. The casual suaveness reminds Karma of the actors in those nauseatingly perky coffee commercials, and when Asano takes another sip of his coffee, Karma's expression flattens.

"What worms are you catching? They're all asleep, Ace-kun. The only thing you're catching is a cold. Ok? Don't subject the rest of us to your nonexistent sleeping patter - " He stops abruptly as something metal jangles and clinks noisily as it runs through the washing machine. Karma frowns and asks, clear exasperation in his tone, "Why is the washing machine on?"

Asano finally puts down the blasted paper and lifts an eyebrow. There is an exasperated resignation in his eyes that Karma thinks is entirely unwarranted because seriously, who woke up who here?

"You know, I've noticed you are disturbingly ignorant on the uses of modern day appliances. Do you need me to go over them? The washing machine is, as its name implies, a machine for washing clothes."

Karma ignores the comment and in an equally condescending tone, he asks pointedly, "And, why are you washing clothes right now?"

"Because I have the time to," Asano says simply.

Karma blinks at him for several moments before he decides Asano is a lost cause. He's wasting his time reasoning with a crazy person.

He immediately stalks past Asano and into the kitchen towards the walk in space to the left where the washing machine and drying machine is. He calls out over his shoulder, "I'm turning it off. You're clearly too sleep deprived to see how abnormal everything you are doing right now is. I feel sorry for your poor employees who have to deal with such an unreasonable bos – Where is the stop button?"

Unbelievable. What the hell is this? Karma pauses, eyes quickly scanning the multitude of buttons and dials, all with numbers and various labels. Why the hell would anyone need a control pad to do their laundry? He only wants to turn off the annoying scrap of metal, not launch a rocket into space.

Karma stares at the buttons for another moment before he murmurs helplessly, "Why are all of your dumb appliances so demented?"

"You really are not a morning person," Asano notes as he walks up from behind him.

"And you're clearly not human," Karma counters as he stares fixatedly at the washing machine. He can just throw it out, right? Who needs the power button when he can shove it out the window and be done with everything?

"Also, I did not purchase that washing machine. It came with the penthouse," Asano comments casually, and Karma wonders if he can get away with murdering his insane roommate and plead self-defense.

"That's nice, Ace-kun. So enlightening to hear that this infernal trap was already here. Say, can Ace-kun exercise his ever so comprehensive knowledge and turn this off?" Karma drawls, the words practically saturated in sarcasm.

"I refuse."

Karma's head snaps back, golden eyes unknowingly gleaming in warning even as he hums, "Oh? Really? You're not going to turn off the machine?"

To Gakushuu's surprise, Akabane suddenly strides past him and out of the kitchen. He glances at the comforter Akabane dropped and fights back a smirk as he picks it up to place it on top of the dryer.

This is far more entertaining than he could have ever hoped for.

Loud, punctuated footsteps come closer. Gakushuu spares a moment to pity the tenants down below before he looks up to see Akabane swinging a fire poker haphazardly in one hand. He pauses and asks warily, "What are you doing?"

A shit-eating grin stretches across Akabane's face, his golden eyes ignited with reckless giddiness. He twirls the fire poker and declares brazenly, "Stopping the washing machine in the traditional way."

Gakushuu stares at him before frowning. "What traditional way is that? The yakuza's?"

Akabane cocks his head and shrugs, "You did not want to turn it off, so what choice do I have?"

He steps back and holds the fire poker as he would a golf club. Karma grins – He's more than ready to smash something if only just to relieve his irritation of this morning, and honestly, Asano deserves it for being such a jackass - and is about to slam it into the washing machine when Asano suddenly voices aloud, "Are you sure you want me to? It's your clothes in there."

Karma furrows his eyebrows and immediately jerks the poker back. His eyes flick to Asano and he asks bewildered, "Wait, what? Why are you washing my clothes?"

Asano shrugs as he leans against the dryer. "Because they were cluttering the living room."

Karma blinks, eyes flicking to the washing machine and back to Asano. He asks blankly, "You're washing all of them?"

Shit. Did he leave his blazer out on the sofa last night? He needs it for today's meeting. Does he have another clean one in his closet?

. . . No, probably not, considering that he still has not done any laundry since moving in.

Karma bites back a growl and glances in irritation at Asano. Asano definitely has a petty streak. Is this retaliation for his pranks?

Asano raises an eyebrow and comments casually, "What's the matter? Did you run out of clean clothes?" He nods towards the washing machine and continues serenely, as if he wasn't the one who threw all of Karma's clothes unnecessarily into the washing machine, "You should let the washing machine finish then, so you have time to use the dryer."

Karma idly taps the fire poker against his foot and asks nonchalantly even as he runs through all the possible ways he can exact his revenge later, "Why were you cleaning up the living room?"

He does not miss the irritation flickering in Asano's eyes as Asano comments a little sourly, "A better question is why you haven't."

Karma smirks as he croons, eyes deceptively wide in false concern, "Oh? If my messy habits are triggering your OCD, you're free to move out. I'd be deeply concerned if I drove you to a mental breakdown."

Asano's eye twitches slightly, but he smiles and offers just as pleasantly, "The same goes for you. If my sleeping patterns are disturbing your sleep, you can leave. I would hate for you to fall asleep on the job and find yourself demoted."

They stare at each other, matching smiles increasingly erring on the side of psychotic until Asano asks smoothly, "Would you like me to teach you how to use the dryer?"

Given how Asano told him absolutely nothing about the washing machine, Karma does not see what he could possibly gain from Asano explaining jack shit again. Still, the already patronizing smugness radiating from Asano digs under his skin, and Karma is nothing but unpredictable.

He plops straight down in front of the two stupid machines. The fire poker clatters noisily to the floor. Cross-legged, Karma waves a hand carelessly in the air to drawl, "Go ahead, Ace-kun. Do you want me to take notes while you give out your inspiring lecture?"

Karma can see out of the corner of his eye that Asano is taken aback, not having expected him to actually take the offer. Asano recovers quickly though, as always, and says coolly, "You should. Your attention span seems rather short in the morning."

He points towards one of the buttons and explains, a bit more seriously than he intended because the scenario of Akabane pressing buttons randomly and causing the dryer to explode is a painfully real possibility now that he thinks about it, "This button is for temperature. Turn the dial for specific settings. You can also use it for different dry cycles depending on the fabric or you can press this button and change the timing of the cycle too. This button is for the - "

"Is this seriously that complicated?" Karma asks, all previous playfulness gone for genuine bewilderment. He surveys the dryer with a frown before glancing at Asano and commenting dryly, "Ace-kun, you should know that if your teaching method fails here, I'm going to press random buttons and make you share the risk of burning down this penthouse with me."

Gakushuu stares back blankly. He hadn't thought Akabane was this clueless on household appliances, and wonderful, now he really can imagine the penthouse going up in flames. He says aloud, voice stark with disbelief, "I'm seriously questioning your mental state right now. Are you this sleep deprived or have you not used a dryer before?"

Karma shrugs. "I have. It had three buttons." He raises three fingers and lists them off airily, "High, medium, and low heat."

"Well, unfortunately, this one does not." Asano rubs his face wearily and Karma would have smirked in satisfaction – because, seriously this is all Asano's fault - if it isn't for the fact that he still has no idea how to use the dryer.

Gakushuu, on the other hand, wonders just exactly how his ploy has ended in him lecturing Akabane on laundry. He sighs. "I think you need notes."

Akabane only stares at the machine vacantly and murmurs, "No, I need to sleep and less demented appliances."

Gakushuu glances at his watch – 6:30? This is taking longer than he expected - and comments absentmindedly, "Stop talking as if the appliances have a life of their own."

"Asano."

Gakushuu looks back up only to stiffen when he finds Akabane suddenly standing in front of him, mere inches away, with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

It's a bit . . . disarming how well Akabane manages to look innocent.

Gakushuu leans back, slightly unnerved, and asks warily, "What?"

Akabane scrutinizes him for a moment before he sighs and asks petulantly, "Can you just do it for me?"

Gakushuu blinks and echoes again blankly, "What?"

Akabane looks as if he's reconsidering Gakushuu's mentality again and says deliberately slowly, "The dryer."

The what? Gakushuu raises an eyebrow and comments flatly, "I don't remember agreeing to be your personal maid."

"You cleaned the living room," Akabane says matter-of-factly.

"Because I also use it," Gakushuu retorts, finally letting his irritation show. He narrows his eyes and rebukes, "You realize that it's not your personal closet, right? Or do you also want me to explain what a closet is for too?"

Karma is about to counter when he pauses with realization. Closet? He hums, his usual lazy smile back again, "You're right."

Asano furrows his eyebrows at the easy agreement. "What do you mean by that?"

Akabane shrugs as he reaches for the comforter and drapes it around him again. He saunters out and calls out behind his shoulder, "I'll just borrow a shirt from you. That's much more convenient."

"Convenient for who?" Gakushuu demands as he follows after Akabane out of the kitchen into the dining room again. He frowns heavily and adds, "Don't step into my room."

"Sure, sure." Akabane waves one hand dismissively in the air and uses the other to stifle a yawn.

Gakushuu can already tell Akabane is already thinking of going back to sleep. He sighs and sits back in his seat. "Just do your laundry, Akabane."

Karma makes a noncommittal sound and comments idly, "Don't be so stingy. It's just a shirt. Or two." He yawns again, eyes flicking blearily over the dining table as he passes it. God, this took longer than he wanted it to be. Time to go back to sleep and away from – Wait.

"Where are my folders?" Karma observes aloud as he stops abruptly and does a double take. Files, files….He was doing paperwork last night, and he remembers distinctly laying out the documents and reports. His eyes sweep over the dining table once more, and cold dread slithers through him. Goddamn it.

Karma immediately swivels his head towards Asano, who only peruses the newspaper once more and murmurs without looking up, "Hmm?"

Completely awake now, Karma taps his fingers erratically on the table as he enunciates slowly. "My folders. The ones on the table."

He grits his teeth. He does not know who he's more mad at, Asano or himself because seriously, how could have he been so careless? Leaving actual paperwork like that out in the open. . . Even Karma would have cackled in delight at the easy prey.

Shit. He really is too used to living by himself. He never had to worry about organizing all of his crap before.

Asano, however, only turns the page and says disinterestedly, "I don't recall."

No, he's definitely more irritated at Asano.

Karma's lips hike up into a dangerous smirk and his voice dips warningly, "I didn't know your OCD was this bad. Don't you think you're going too far with your cleaning? Where did you put my files?"

Gakushuu glances at him discreetly from behind the newspaper, noting the serious edge in Akabane's tone for once. Akabane's eyes gleam sharply, and he can see the threat of destruction brimming in them. He hides a pleased smirk and feigns ignorance, "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"As-a-no – kun," Akabane punctuates each syllable with a sharp tap on the dining table, the lilting cadence in his tone dark and low. "Is your eyesight so bad that you can't even distinguish from paperwork from trash? Should I buy more carrots and Vitamin A supplements to help you?"

Gakushuu deliberately widens his eyes and realizes aloud, "Oh dear. The stacks of pizza boxes and junk food wrappers must have covered your documents. I just assumed that after counting four layers of empty noodle cups that everything under them must have been trash as well."

"What?" Karma widens his eyes and glances back at the table. Trash? Then his documents are. . .

Gakushuu leans back in his chair and continues casually, "You should run. They incinerate the trash from the chute at seven."

Karma glances at the clock and stiffens. Shit. It's already 6:45. His eye twitches at the satisfied expression in Asano's eyes. The arrogant triumph seeping from Asano's false sympathetic smile sends his adrenaline spiking and destructive impulses surging. He strides quickly away and comments with irritation, "Spiteful is not a flattering look, Asano."

"If I wanted to be spiteful, I would have thrown everything in the fireplace."

Karma spares a glare towards the dining room before he stalks through the living room and retorts, voice acerbic with sarcasm, "That's nice, Ace-kun. I'm so thankful right now for your unique definition of charit – Where the hell are my shoes?"

Karma stares at the step just before the door, eyes sweeping the bare floor in incredulity. Just how enthusiastic was Asano in cleaning the house? He clenches his fingers and turns his head back.

Asano ambles out then and leans against the sofa. He raises an eyebrow with all the tranquility that Karma does not feel right now and remarks, "It's a little early to be polluting the air with profanity."

"Asano."

Judging by the manic grin and the violence flaring wildly in Akabane's eyes, Gakushuu wisely decides not to tease him anymore. He instead shrugs and elaborates, "I didn't throw them away, if that's what you're thinking. I did not have enough trash bags for them." Akabane's expression immediately darkens at that but Gakushuu only nods towards his left, "Open the side closet door. You'll see something called a shoe rack."

Akabane nearly tears the closet door off its hinges as he roughly grabs a pair of sneakers and shoves his feet in. Wrenching open the door, he strides out. The black comforter flares out behind like a war banner before it flutters to the floor and the door slams shut.

Gakushuu pities the garbage workers because he seriously might have unleashed a demon on them. Still. . . Gakushuu props his elbow on the sofa and covers his growing smile with a hand.

That was brilliant, cutting a little close timewise, but delightfully brilliant. Akabane's look when he realized Gakushuu threw away his documents flits through his head once more, eyes bolting open in genuine surprise and dismay…the troubled, almost pleading expression during the explanation of the dryer…or even when Akabane trudged down sleepily with half open eyes and an unhappy scowl….

He did not expect to see such expressions from Akabane, see those emotions so unfiltered for once. It reminds him of a kid really.

He chuckles aloud in satisfaction. It's a little fascinating, to be honest.

---

It only takes a well-placed insane grin for the garbage disposal workers to meekly back off and leave him alone to finish his search. It takes another thirty bags for Karma to finally find his files. He'll be thankful later that Asano at least had the heart to place them in a clean bag devoid of actual trash, but right now?

He's currently going through all the possible ways he can assassinate Asano without being caught.

---

Asano is not all that surprised to find that his clothes are missing when he comes home. He is not as irritated as he normally would be though. Replacing his wardrobe is a small price to pay for Akabane's reactions this morning.

His amusement unfortunately only lasts so long as the next afternoon.

Before he gives a presentation to some important investors, Gakushuu finds that Akabane has translated all of his notes into emoticons and somehow inserted some less than decent pictures into his PowerPoint slides.

It takes pure willpower and the sheer force of his charisma to downplay the entire situation.

And once again, Gakushuu asks himself on the merits of competing for a penthouse that he does not even want.

---

It is not until three days later when Karma drops some files into one of the drawers in his desk that he finally realizes that he has been subtly manipulated.

Because while Asano is still waking up far earlier than Karma would deem sane, he also has not woken up at five in the morning anymore either. And after that enlightening trip to the garbage room, Karma is not too keen on leaving his clothes or shoes out in the open anymore. So he finds himself taking the extra step to hand his jacket on a hanger and throw the wrappers into the trashcan to discourage Asano's extreme spring cleaning tendencies.

But, really, isn't this just Asano's way of forcing him to be neater without outright nagging?

His lips curve into a delighted grin, and Karma chuckles aloud, breathless with the realization.

Granted, he's a little amused that Asano would go that far, but more than that, he's kind of impressed.

Sure, he still does not care for the penthouse. There's a lot of negative space here that he could do without, and the furniture still seems too fragile for his liking.

But, sparring with Asano really is entertaining. Something that keeps him on his toes and requires more than pie charts and sly negotiations to win.

---

Time: 1 week after

Karma honestly forgets about the dye.

So, when Asano storms into the kitchen in nothing but a white towel slung around his hips and wet strands of bright pink hair plastered to his forehead, his eyes widen and Karma immediately chokes on his strawberry juice.

He blinks uncomprehendingly at Asano before Karma stares down at the juice box in his hand and wonders if he ingested some hallucinogenic drugs. It takes an embarrassing extra three seconds for Sunday's grocery list to float through his mind.

Ah, that's right. The hair dye.

There's a snarl, a blur of movement and suddenly the sharp musk of an unnamed body wash wraps around him. It makes him feel almost dizzy and Karma blinks again as he finds his back slammed against the fridge. Asano looks absolutely livid, eyebrows creased and sharp violet eyes narrowed.

Karma can almost see the killing intent curling off Asano's frame in roiling black flames, and his lips automatically curve upwards in anticipation at the sight. Perfect. Asano presses forward as he thunders out, voice darkened with anger, "Care to explain?"

"Explain what?" Karma asks innocently and grins, deliberately going lax instead of breaking away. Asano notices and Karma can see his eye twitching at the nonchalance. He inwardly snickers because Asano losing his temper is always priceless.

The hair dye was an excellent decision and Karma hums again, "Actually, shouldn't you be the one to explain?" He tilts his head and smiles tauntingly, "Or is walking in a towel a new habit of yours? I didn't know you were such an exhibitionist."

Asano's eyes darken to a shade of poisonous purple and if looks could kill, Karma thinks he probably would be melting in a puddle of acid. As it is, he only offers another sweet grin that does nothing to abate Asano's growing temper.

Asano growls and shoves him again as he hisses, "Akabane, what did you do?"

Karma ignores the cold metal of the fridge seeping through his shirt as Asano tightens his grip on his shoulders and presses even closer. Instead, he lifts an eyebrow and says lightly, "Do what?"

"This!" Asano roars, violet eyes swirling with barely repressed fury. Asano is the type that prefers schemes and spinning spider webs in the background to using brute force, so the fact that Asano looks like he's about to grab the nearest kitchen knife and commit murder says volumes about his anger.

Not that it deters Karma. He is the type that sees the "Do not trespass" sign but treats it as the x-mark for treasure than the warning it's supposed to be. Instead of backing down, he surveys Asano briefly and offers idly, "Whatever do you mean? You look as charismatic as ever."

"Akabane." Asano's voice drops down to nothing more than a harsh growl, and Karma vaguely notes that Asano's voice sounds deeper than it did before in the past.

Still, he is telling the truth. Karma scrutinizes Asano once more and huh.

Because now that Asano is this close, Karma can see, as irritating as it is, that Asano, in some inexplicable way, manages to pull the color off.

Maybe it's because of his strawberry blond hair or the several rinses of shampoo Asano no doubt must have done, but the shade is a lighter bright bubblegum than Karma originally intended. Karma was going for the dark neon pink so unnervingly bright that Asano's head looks like it's on fire sort of look.

As it stands now, Asano looks like someone experimenting with today's current rainbow colored hair, just without the sparkling unicorns and the er, consent.

In fact, the color infuriatingly complements Asano's skin and emphasizes the violet hues in his eyes, shifting them from their usual silvery violet to pure amethyst.

Karma hides his disappointed frown. Maybe he should have gone for the neon green hair dye, after all.

Gakushuu narrows his eyes. Dead. Akabane is dead. He can already see the headlines in the newspaper: 'Roommate found Strangled to Death'

God, just thinking about it….that blaring pink shade of hair that greeted his reflection in the mirror….

He can't believe it. His hair is pink. Pink.

Rage rakes its claws over his skin, blood drumming loudly in his ears in white-hot flashes. Dead. So dead.

He can plead for mental insanity in the courtroom, can't he? Anyone who understands Akabane's personality would understand. He growls, fingers tightening even more, "Akabane. Are you listening to me?"

Karma focuses back on Asano and feigns ignorance, "Of course. What's wrong?"

Karma instinctively knows that it's the wrong thing to say; it's why he said it after all. And he's simultaneously pleased and apprehensive when Asano's lips curve upwards in a pleasant smile that does not quite match up with the homicidal glint in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Asano asks slowly, the cadence of his voice low and deceptively smooth. The sound glides across Karma's skin at this proximity and has him tensing in wariness out of reflex. Asano presses even closer and Karma still keeps his light grin in place even though he's starting to feel the handle of the fridge pressing unforgivingly against his shoulder blade.

"What's wrong is that you put hair dye in my shampoo," Asano continues in that same tone and presses forward closer with each slow, enunciated word.

Karma blinks slightly at the sudden proximity. He can feel the warmth of Asano's solid frame pressing against him, and hmm, aren't they too close right now?

But Asano does not seem to notice and looks more enraged with every word, "What's wrong is that my hair is pink. What's wrong is your apparent sanity and eyesight."

There is barely an inch between them now, and Karma's eyes flick down to catch the still glistening expanse of skin. It's a little off-putting that Asano looks...so disheveled. Asano standing in the kitchen in nothing but a towel therefore feels almost surreal, to be honest.

An odd twinge of discomfort runs through him when Asano presses impossibly even closer and intones darkly, still incensed over his spontaneous hair color change, "Tell me, Akabane, do you need help correcting your vision? I can arrange for an impromptu Lasik surgery this very instant."

Karma raises an eyebrow at that. Lasik surgery is a euphemism for gouging his eyes with the nearest teaspoon, and he automatically grins. Only Asano could manage to croon out death threats like this. Amused, Karma drawls, "I think I'll stick with eating carrots."

Asano gives him a deeply murderous glare and Karma is about to comment on how killing him would not hold up so well in court when the crisp smell of aftershave wafts up and invades his senses. Karma wrinkles his nose and notices again how Asano is practically on top of him now. The proximity is starting to make him feel antsy, restless.

He frowns slightly and adds, "Also, Asano, don't you think you're a bit too close?"

Still vexed, Asano growls, "What?"

He could have played it off, do his usual taunts and whatnot. In fact, Karma's pretty sure there's a multitude of exhibitionist and sexual harassment jokes to be made here, but the scent of Asano's body wash is overwhelming in a way that makes his skin itch, even more so when the restlessness thrums through his veins like it usually does when he's about to blow off steam in a fight.

And when Asano still does not move and Karma can feel the warm breath hovering over his skin, the solid heat radiating outwards from Asano, he suddenly feels claustrophobic, the sensation writhing uncomfortably under his skin. Reflexively, he reaches out to grab Asano's arm and pushes him aside so he can slip out.

Gakushuu blinks, surprised at the sudden movement, but irritated more than anything because it only shows how Akabane was deliberately letting him hold him down. He turns to retort scathingly, but stops at the odd disconcerted expression in Akabane's eye. It flits across briefly though, and Akabane's usual lazy grin returns.

He suddenly presses something in Gakushuu's hand and explains with a condescending drawl, "There's something called personal space, you know."

Gakushuu stares back uncomprehendingly before he looks down at his hand. It's Akabane's stupid juice box.

His eye twitches and before Gakushuu can remind Akabane on the functions of a trashcan – and does he want a demonstration of said functions? - Akabane is already sauntering out of the kitchen and calling out over his shoulder with a grin, "And I don't know why you're so outraged. You can retire as a CEO and try your luck being an idol now. I'm sure with your popularity, Ace-kun, it will be a successful career change!"

Gakushuu barely registers the cool liquid suddenly dripping over his hand as his hand tightens into a fist. He's too busy staring at Akabane's distant back and visualizing once again the various murder scenes he can get away with.

He can't believe Akabane has the goddamned nerve to go and put hair dye in his shampoo. And to choose pink out of all colors.

Akabane seriously either has a death wish or he's more of a five year old than Gakushuu gives him credit for.

He narrows his eyes and is about to fling the damn juice box into the recycling bin when he pauses and glances at the crushed juice box in his hand.

Strawberry juice. Didn't Akabane used to drink this in school? Gakushuu thinks back on all the times he's seen Akabane drink it since moving into the penthouse. It's….surprisingly a lot.

Huh.

---

Karma furrows his eyebrows and flexes his fingers idly. It's his win. It is. He glances at the door. So why does it feel that he didn't have the upper hand during that conversation at all?

He shrugs and leans back in his chair, feet propped against the desk. He's thinking too much. He did spend a good portion of his school years trying to assassinate Koro-sensei and the other portion being a troublemaker delinquent, so he's had a good share of fights. It's probably instinct now to not let someone stand so close to you.

Well, whatever. A point is a point, and Asano's reaction was as entertaining as he expected and more.

Karma smirks and hums. Now, how will Asano retaliate?

---

Yumiko crosses her legs gracefully and swipes a perfect lavender manicured nail across the tablet's screen. Hmm. Twelve o'clock brunch with two important investors. Two o'clock meeting with the advertising department. Four o'clock meeting with the board.

Busy day as usual, then. She glances at the time and blinks in surprise. Almost nine. Strange. The president always comes in punctually at eight in the morning. Should she call the driver?

As if on cue, the glass doors to the office immediately swings open and Asano strides through. Yumiko immediately stands up and turns, lips curved in an indulgent smile before it immediately falters and her gray eyes widen in shock.

…Is she dreaming?

She blinks. The blur of bright pink greets her eyes again and she stares at it thoroughly dumbfounded. The president's hair is pink. Pink. As in pink like the shade of lipstick she has on. Yumiko blinks again.

…This is the president, right?

But no, there is no else with those colored eyes and that distinct charismatic aura. Yumiko pauses and surveys Asano warily. He's dressed impeccably as always, but his entire outfit is in black for the first time. Black leather shoes, black tie, black collared shirt, black suit. It looks striking on him, even more so because of its sharp contrast with the new hair color.

…It also conjures up a picture of the Grim Reaper because Yumiko recognizes that sharp glint in the president's eyes and the briskness in his pace. He is definitely on the warpath again.

She pities the company he has set his sights on today, but frankly, she pities herself more because Yumiko can already picture the paperwork waiting for her by the end of today.

Great, there goes her dinner reservation for tonight.

Asano smoothly settles into his leather chair and offers his usual benevolent smile, "Good morning."

"Good… morning, president," Yumiko offers hesitantly despite herself, eyes flicking over the president once more. He looks stunningly handsome like this, more so than usual even. The all dark attire lends him a dangerous edge, only emphasized by the bold shade of hair. Something grittier that reflects more accurately the razor sharp, ruthless business sense that his usual crisp navy and neutral tones conceals.

Damn it. She really wants to know, well, the reason for this abrupt image change.

She bites her lips before she squashes her curiosity with valiant effort and lets her features smooth out once more in professionalism. Curiosity did kill the cat and all.

So instead, Yumiko continues in her usual serene tones, "For today's agenda, you have a twelve o'clock -"

"Brunch?" Asano says idly as he looks through the files on his desk. "I remember." He pauses and looks back at her. "I need you to look into something for me."

She blinks but nods with a smile. "Of course. What is it?" He slides across his desk a pink and white carton. She reaches out and picks it up with curiosity, eyes scanning the label. Yumiko furrows her eyebrows. Isn't this – "Juice?" she wonders aloud.

What on earth? Yumiko pauses. Does drinking strawberry juice somehow change one's hair color? She eyes the carton and glances back at Asano. Interesting. They're both pink… Is that why the president wants her to research this?

She frowns slightly. Exactly what kind of artificial supplements are companies putting into food nowadays?

Asano nods and continue succinctly, "Find the company that owns and manufactures this product. Look into their stock numbers as well."

Stock numbers? This is the target company of the week?

Her eyes flick to him and back to the juice carton. She remembers seeing this brand before in some of the local supermarkets and vending machines. It's popular, but it's more of a local favorite than a national brand. Surely, this is not worth the aggressive attack much less the investigation.

"…Of course." Yumiko raises an eyebrow and asks curiously, "And ah, what exactly are our plans towards this company, president?"

"We're taking it over, of course," Asano reveals lowly, eyes gleaming a vivid purple and lips curving into a deeply satisfied smirk. Yumiko gets the feeling that this might have something to do with a personal grudge or two here, judging from the darkening expression.

The expression also overwhelms her slightly and she vaguely thinks that if someone added a throne, some rising smoke, and a random pop rock song in the background, it'd be less of a corporate setting and more of a k-pop music video sort of vibe and – oh. Huh.

She clears her throat and hides an amused grin, "I see."

Yumiko strides back to her desk, fingers already tapping on the tablet. She sneaks another glance at Asano and hums. The president looks surprisingly good with pink hair, which honestly is the only thing that keeps her fascinated enough to not complain when Yumiko discovers that Asano is surprisingly dead-set on acquiring that beverage company and she really does have to cancel that dinner reservation to indulge his whims.

---

Karma does not think much of it the first time that it happens, but when the eighth vending machine of the day does not have the strawberry drink that he wants and it has already been four days without his drink, he's, well, still not giving it a second thought.

He's just incredibly pissed off. Although to be honest, that's been his default mood for the entire week because of a certain asshole who has been stubbornly waking up at 5am in the morning with an increasingly psychotic routine.

Who in the right mind vacuums the goddamned carpet at five in the morning? Seriously, who?

Grumbling darkly under his breath, Karma scowls and taps the vending machine increasingly harder, not even registering the wary looks of the mother and child on the bench next to him.

God, Asano and all of his household appliances are just demented.

---

It's only when he visits two supermarkets to purchase the drink directly and they tell him that the drink has been mysteriously recalled and discontinued for the moment that Karma finally realizes something is wrong.

Or rather that this clearly is sabotage.

Karma pauses and frowns. No way. This is Asano's retaliation?

He digs for the phone in his pocket and leans down in front of the beverage shelves, grabbing a grape carton of the same brand. Scanning it for the company's information, Karma quickly jabs in the listed phone number.

Ring. Ring.

"Hello. You have reached Customer's Service. How may I help you?"

"I have a question about one of your products…."

---

"How could you?"

Gakushuu blinks and stares as Akabane suddenly rushes into the kitchen. His eyebrows are furrowed and Akabane's usual smirk is replaced with a disappointed frown. Just like that, any smugness or satisfaction that Gakushuu might feel quickly dissipates because what the hell? Where does Akabane get the gall to look like he has been personally victimized?

With his eye twitching, Gakushuu does not even bother feigning ignorance and instead retorts incredulously, "How could I? You dyed my hair pink!"

Akabane only frowns again and leans over the island counter as he argues, "What I did to you wasn't this extreme!"

"My. Hair. Is. Pink," Gakushuu enunciates slowly and glowers at Akabane for good measure. Repressing an irritated growl, he picks up the lettuce from the island counter and stalks over to the sink.

He should not even have to explain this. His hair is pink, and Akabane losing his favorite drink is clearly the more trivial consequence of the two.

"Real men wear pink!"

Scrick!

Gakushuu's jaw clenches and he looks balefully down at the lettuce he just ripped into two ragged halves. Gritting his teeth and repressing the overwhelming urge to stab Akabane with the nearest silverware, he says tightly, "Thank you for your enlightening definition of masculinity."

"It's only a temporary dye. See?" Gakushuu frowns and turns around to see Akabane waving the dye bottle he presumably used. Akabane flips the back of the bottle and reads aloud, "It only lasts for…"

Karma pauses, eyes widening despite himself. He clears his throat and offers, "Er, six to nine weeks?"

Karma frowns at the bottle. Huh. Maybe he should have read the bottle more carefully because damn it, six weeks?

Asano stares at him for a moment and then deadpans, "Akabane, do me a favor. Go die. Preferably somewhere not here. Explaining your stupidity to the police would be time consuming."

Karma glances back at Asano, unsurprised to find him once again facing the sink, back rigid with undeniable irritation. There is another loud squeaky rip and Karma thinks vaguely that it would be easier to throw the lettuce in the shredder, judging by the way Asano is viciously tearing it apart.

Karma watches him for a couple moments before he sighs and says resignedly, "I'm sorry, ok?"

Gakushuu pauses then, a bit surprised at the uncharacteristic apology. He places down the lettuce and turns around to survey Akabane curiously. "Are you that addicted to strawberry juice? You really love that brand."

Akabane frowns slightly before he crosses his arms and leans back in the stool, commenting, "You know, don't you think you're overreacting? You're forcing a company to stop selling its best product because I gave you a harmless make- over."

Gakushuu's lips twitch upwards at the hint of annoyance in Karma's eyes and turns back around to remark idly, "They sell other products too, you know. I hear their lemonade is also popular."

Akabane makes a noncommittal noise as he begins tapping absentmindedly on the counter and says nonchalantly, "How long is this ban going to last, Ace-kun? Forever?"

"Of course not. I'm a fair person." Gakushuu turns his head back, lips curving into a smirk, as he adds, "It will be only until my hair is no longer pink."

Karma stills, eyes quickly flicking back to Asano. "What?"

Asano only continues to wash the lettuce and continues patronizingly, "You should pray this monstrosity only lasts for – what did you say? Six weeks?"

Petty. Asano definitely has a petty streak. Karma hides his unhappiness and instead leans back in the stool to say lazily, "You can't be serious. Ne, don't you think you're being a little too cruel? The company did not do anything to be treated this way."

"No, but you did," Asano mutters under his breath before he stops and glances at Karma with a raised eyebrow, "You don't know yet?"

"Know what?"

Asano's lips twitch upwards again and he says nonchalantly, "Nothing. Just that I would not do anything cruel to my own company."

Karma furrows his eyebrows before the implications sink in and he realizes aloud, "In other words, you made it into another one of your minions." Karma drops his chin into an open palm and comments with a challenging lilt in his tone, "You know, you're toeing the line on illegal monopoly, Asano-kun. Should I be concerned?"

"Feel free to tattle on me. Although, I wonder how long filing the complaint is going to take." He leans against the counter and raises an eyebrow, "Six weeks?"

Asano smirks, satisfied at the irritated gleam in Akabane's eyes, and continues, "Or can you not wait that long? Are you already suffering from withdrawal? I'm willing to reconsider if you give up and move out."

Akabane's lips automatically pull upwards in a matching smirk as he hums, "Give up? We only started." His eyes flash in challenge voice dipping slightly as he asserts, "I don't leave in the middle of a game."

"Have it your way then because neither do I," Gakushuu says evenly as he turns back to the sink.

---

Bam!

Gakushuu jolts slightly at the loud sound and looks up from his laptop with a peeved frown. This is the second time that Akabane has felt the need to make an obnoxiously loud entrance. He's about to retort scathingly but Karma suddenly strides into the living room with a strangely determined face and flings a plastic bag haphazardly onto the coffee table.

Gakushuu pauses as Akabane starts untying the bag and unpacking the nondescript items on the coffee table. He asks warily, "What are you doing?"

Akabane hums cheerfully, "I'm atoning for my wrongdoings."

Gakushuu blinks before he eyes the odd combination of baking soda box, anti-dandruff shampoo, and Vitamin C bottle on the coffee table and notes dubiously, "Really? You picked the most inefficient items to overdose on." He glances at Akabane and continues dryly, "Also, I remember telling you to go kill yourself somewhere else. I don't want this penthouse to be a crime scene."

"You said you're banning the strawberry juice until your hair is no longer pink." Akabane shrugs and nods dismissively towards the table, "So I'm helping. This is supposed to help get the color out."

Gakushuu frowns. "According to what professional opinion?"

Akabane taps the screen of his phone and scrolls down. "Hmm, beautyblogger9875?" He shrugs and looks expectantly towards Gakushuu again. "Come on. Go into the bathroom and lean your head over the sink."

"So you can drown me and wage chemical warfare against my hair simultaneously," Gakushuu says slowly. His expression flattens before he scowls, "I'm afraid, I have to refuse out of self-preservation, you lunatic."

Akabane's eyebrows knit in indignation and he protests, "Hey, I'm really helping!" He fixes him a patronizingly exasperated look that makes Gakushuu seriously reconsider the pros and cons of strangling his so called roommate. "You know, it would be easier if you just went out to a hair salon and have the people there re-dye it or something."

"Yes, because after all of this, the first thing I want is to expose my hair to more chemicals," Gakushuu retorts sarcastically before he shakes his head, "Did being out of school for so long decrease your brain cells?"

"Tch, you're making this harder than it needs to be," Akabane complains as he ambles towards the kitchen, calling out, "It'll turn out fine, so stop being a worrywart."

Gakushuu frowns. He has plenty of things to worry about. Being bald, for one, suddenly seems like a possibility when Akabane returns with a small mixing bowl and teaspoons.

Not fine at all.

He blinks and stares with an increasingly wary expression as Akabane scrolls through his phone again and starts measuring out the baking soda in the mixing bowl. Is he…..seriously doing this?

Akabane hums and reaches for the shampoo bottle, squeezing it with all the cheerfulness that Gakushuu does not feel. There is a strange fascinated gleam in Akabane's eyes that also makes Gakushuu think that Akabane is actually starting to have fun with this.

Out. He's out. Gakushuu decisively closes the laptop and stands up from the sofa because while he's still pissed about his hair, at least he has hair.

Karma blinks at the sudden movement and furrows his eyebrows, "Where are you going?"

"Away from you and whatever elementary science fair project you're doing over there."

Karma grins at the flicker of unease in Asano's eyes and coos deliberately, "Are you chickening out?"

At his taunt, Asano stops midway and crosses his arms to counter, "What exactly about this scene screams reassuring?"

Karma mixes the shampoo paste and hums, "I'm hurt. You would think that considering all the years we've known each other, there would be some comradery." He reaches out and tugs on the rubber gloves as he turns his head, lips already twitching upwards, "Don't you trust me just even a little bit?"

"No," Gakushuu deadpans because if anything, Akabane's sudden resemblance to a mad surgeon only confirms the ominous feeling in his gut. Nothing about this screams fine or reassuring and he immediately takes a step back in wariness. "You - " He widens his eyes when Akabane suddenly lunges towards him, the mixing bowl in one hand and the shampoo paste smeared over the other. He bites back a curse and quickly dodges to the side.

"I swear to god, Akabane, if any of that gets on my head, I'll make sure your favorite drink is discontinued for all eternity!"

"I – Oi, you're spilling the soap!"

"Good, you crazy bastar – Don't track the soap all over the rug! I just had that vacuumed," Asano rebukes sharply as he stops circling around the sofa to glance over at the wet spot near the coffee table.

Karma almost rolls his eyes because seriously, just how much of neat freak is he? He tilts his head and says impatiently, "Then, don't make me chase you." When Asano twists out of hand's reach once more, Karma seriously debates kicking the sofa clear across the other side of the room since Asano seems adamant on playing merry-go-round with it.

He surveys Asano's increasingly irritated expression and suppresses an annoyed scowl of his own. He really does not have any ulterior motives here - for once - so it would kill Asano to be a bit more appreciative. Besides, Karma's already peeved that he has to actually undo his own prank.

Honestly. Karma thinks for a moment before he offers idly, "What if I put it in my hair too? Would it relieve Ace-kun's paranoia and blatant distrust of me?"

Asano stares at him incredulously before he says dryly, "Wonderful. Then we can be the two weirdos with pink hair." He shakes his head and throws Karma a deeply exasperated look that has Karma's fingers twitching to upend the entire mixing bowl over Asano's stupid head. "I cannot understand how your head works."

"I meant the soap, you idiot," Karma growls, letting his frustration to uncharacteristically color his tone. Seriously, he's actually trying to do a good thing here, and Asano repays the favor by being stubborn.

Karma sighs before he very slowly and deliberately runs some of the shampoo mixture through his hair, "Look, see? It's perfectly safe."

A bit more at ease but still unconvinced, Asano nods his head towards the table, "And, what are the vitamin C pills for?"

"Apparently, if I smash them into bits and mix it with water, it's supposed to help too?" Karma shrugs. He's not really sure it would work but it would not hurt either. Man, to think the hair dye would actually be something he would be regretting right now.

Asano pauses and surveys the items once more with a more contemplative expression now. After a minute or two in which Karma is sure full of Asano debating the pros and cons of this, Asano finally says, "It's rather pathetic that you can't even last a week without strawberry drinks. You're going to give yourself diabetes one day."

Karma hides a displeased frown at Asano's accurate guess. To be fair though, Karma's pretty sure he could go longer without his favorite drink if sleep deprivation isn't an added handicap and a certain someone isn't waking up at five like a goddamned lunatic.

Although, who knows? Knowing Asano, he probably planned that too in some twisted two pronged strategy.

Karma represses the new surge of irritation and says flippantly, "Ah, I'm touched. Is Asano-kun worried about my health? Besides, it's not like you can go a week without coffee either."

Asano opens his mouth to reports before he pauses and realizes aloud with a frown, "Is that why the coffee machine is not working?"

Karma shrugs. "It's only fair if I can't get my strawberries, then you shouldn't get your caffeine either."

Although, the coffee has been put out of its misery for a few days now and that still has not deterred Asano from his absurd sleeping schedules. Unfortunately.

If this continues, Karma's going to have to amp up the extremeness of his pranks, a bit more fatal. He already has his argument in court planned, something along the lines of an insanity defense in view of his extreme mental exhaustion and sleep deprivation.

He's not even kidding. At this rate, if Karma does not regain his full hours of sleep, he's definitely going to be driven insane.

Asano no doubt notices his irritation because his lips twitch upwards and he points out with a trace of smugness, "You do realize that I drink tea as well, yes?"

"I know. I noticed."

Gakushuu stifles an amused chuckle at Karma's brief petulant frown and can't quite resist the urge to tease him again. "You're such a child. Who gets their energy intake from strawberry drinks? They don't even have any caffei-"

"Oops, you got shampoo into your hair," Akabane smiles innocently, completely unapologetic judging by the satisfied gleam in his eyes, and drawls, "You should go rinse it off, Ace-kun."

Gakushuu stands stock-still as he feels the slimy coldness of the shampoo against his scalp. He narrows his eyes and starts darkly, "Akabane, you - "

Akabane hums and shoves him not so gently towards the staircase. "Come on, I'll be your hairdresser for today. Personal hair-shampooing! Lucky you."

Gakushuu scowls and turns back when he notices the position of Akabane's hand dangerously close to the nape of his neck and the mixing bowl dangling precariously from it with the unspoken threat of pouring it all over his hair. Gakushuu bites back a curse and walks up the staircase stiffly, although not without saying lowly, "I think you're confusing the word lucky with the word damned."

He wrenches open the closest bathroom and stalks in. Akabane hums from behind him and comments, "You're too pessimistic. Sit."

Gakushuu sighs and reluctantly sits down on the stool. He glances at Akabane and threatens, "Get soap into my eyes and I'll kill you."

Akabane answers with an amused smirk, "Your death threat is duly noted and recorded." He pauses and notes, "You're not taking your shirt off."

"It's fine."

Karma shrugs. "Don't complain if it gets wet then." He reaches over to grab the showerhead and feels Asano immediately tensing when Karma aims it towards his hair. He chuckles and comments, "You do know I can't drown you like this, right? Or do you have a fear about drowning I should know about?"

"Akabane."

"Hmm?"

"Be quiet," Gakushuu growls and there is another snicker from behind him before Akabane starts to work more of the shampoo into his hair and work it up into a lather. He cannot help but be tensed and hyperaware of every movement because who knows? With Akabane's penchant for trouble, he might end up with a completely different colored hair. And he does not quite feel reassured that Akabane is standing so close to him, shampooing his hair of all things.

After several minutes pass by though, it's clear that nothing is happening. Akabane is…startlingly gentle, the deft fingers sliding through the strands of hair and rubbing carefully on his scalp. The repetitive circles are soothing, good even when the occasional drag of fingernails against his scalp sends tingling prickles throughout.

It's surprisingly easy to forget that it's Akabane who's doing this, even more so when Akabane seems uncharacteristically quiet with the exception of a soft humming here and there. And just like that, Gakushuu finds himself closing his eyes and relaxing into the touch.

Karma watches with amusement as the tension slowly starts to bleed off Asano, lips twitching upwards when Asano suddenly breathes out slowly and softly, visibly more relaxed than initially. It's…a little interesting how Asano suddenly seems docile under his fingertips. It reminds him of petting an ornery stray cat and having it not scratch you for once.

His eyes flick to the exposed slope of the neck and wonders if Asano realizes how vulnerable of a position he is. Karma hums under his breath as he can't help but run his fingers through again, fascinated at the low murmur that Asano lets out unknowingly. He lets the shampoo rest for a few minutes before reaching for the shower head again to rinse it out.

"Done." Karma waits for Asano to register his comment and when Asano's eyelids slowly flutter open, the soft glow of violet and the openness in those eyes makes even Karma pause for a second because he hasn't seen Asano look so at peace like this before.

"Akabane."

Karma blinks and clears his throat, "Yes?"

Asano glances at the mirror again before he says slowly, "It's still pink."

Karma looks down and finally takes in the shade of hair. It is still pink, but leaning more towards a lighter pastel pink. Karma thinks that with a few more rinses, the color might actually fade. He voices aloud, "Well, I still have to do the vitamin C thing." He grins and adds just for the sake of it, "And it's not my fault your hair is as stubborn as you are."

Gakushuu thinks he should be more irritated, but he feels considerably more relaxed and can't quite muster the effort. Waking up at 5 in the morning is taking a toll even on him. So instead, he merely murmurs, "Considering you're the one who caused this, yes, it is."

"It's lighter though," Karma offers as he strips off the rubber gloves and flings it toward the trash can.

Asano makes a noncommittal sound and points out, "But still pink."

Karma shrugs. "I'm sure if you do this every day, it'll come out before you know it."

Asano regards the mixing bowl once more before deciding, "You're helping. It's tedious to prepare all this every time."

Karma furrows his eyebrows. "Hah? Do I need to?"

"I'll tack on another month to the drink ban as interest," Asano says coolly.

Taking in Asano's uncharacteristic mellow demeanor once again, Karma wonders if he just inadvertently stumbled upon a weak spot here. Lips twitching upwards, he comments, "You could just admit I have awesome shampooing skills."

"That has to be the most worthless skill set I have ever heard of."

"Really? You don't look like you're complaining," Karma hums.

When Asano turns back to glare at him, Karma can't hold back the pleased snickers. He honestly has no objections to having to help out with the shampooing if it means he gets to see Asano be compliant for once.

---

Time: Whatever number week they're on now

Gakushuu does not know anymore. He does not know the number of weeks that has passed by since he and Akabane signed the accursed housing contract nor how exactly Akabane shampooing his hair has become part of their daily routines.

At least, the color is almost faded now. Gakushuu thinks that it will completely disappear by roughly the same time he will have to lift the drink ban. Funny how that works out.

He does not even know what a daily routine is supposed to be anymore. Before nine in the morning, all he had to wait for were the current news reports and a cup of coffee.

Nowadays he's lucky if he can even find a functional coffee maker, what with Akabane suddenly declaring war on all of the household appliances out of some incomprehensible grudge.

Gakushuu sighs as he takes a sip of water and leans back in the chair in the dining room. He glances over at the wall and feels some satisfaction at the disappearance of that stupid calendar. He pauses and furrows his eyebrows. He'd like to say he won that battle of this month, but seeing how his hair is pink and he ended up requisitioning a beverage company much to the confusion of his investors, Gakushuu isn't really sure if he should count it as a win.

Or even that as a battle.

He sighs again and flicks through the stock numbers on the tablet. What exactly are they fighting over again?

---

A/N: Yup, there you have it. The roommate au/businessmen characters au that I've had in my mind in a while and honestly, I just wanted a pairing that could fit this story line.

Haha, this might have been borderline crack, but I hope you at least had fun reading it! ^ ^

I haven't caught up manga wise or anime wise – I know! What I am even writing in this fandom for? – but it's for that same reason, that writing Karma and Gakushuu as their future selves gives me hopefully some leeway.

And also, this pairing could always use more fanfics.

In this fic, I kinda went off what it listed for Karma in the wikia (economic politician) – although, I'm not entirely too sure what that entails – and decided to have Asano as a corporate CEO because that gave me more opportunities for creativity and also, I've really wanted to write a story in which the two characters were doing something business related career wise.

Because, ahem, suits. Need I say more? They're also about 25 years old in this fic.

I tend to be one of those authors who likes having a slow pace in terms of relationship development, and that's even more true for this fic. I've been feeling stressed lately, so I haven't felt up to updating my other fic, mostly because I don't think I'm in the right mindset to write drama.

So I wanted to try writing something more experimental in which I don't have to worry about the overarching plot or canon rules and the chapters can be episodic.

I just want to have fun with this fic and write about two characters messing with each other really. X)

As always, please feel free to comment/review/follow/favorite/do whatever makes you happy. I would love, love to hear what you guys think about it so far, especially because this is a different writing approach for me.

(P.S. Yumiko is just a minor OC I used for Asano's secretary.)