Happy Birthday, Kio
By EmptyWord
Summary: One-shot. It is the years in our lives that make up who we are, not a singular moment or obsession. And every year in Kio's life has prepared him for Agatsuma Soubi.
Disclaimer: Loveless is the property of Yun Kouga, Ichijinsha, Tokyopop, Media Blasters, and others I may have missed.
Warning: Shounen-ai and clichés and two-dimensional. But no angst. Well, very little until Soubi appears that is.
When Kio was a year old, his favorite thing was to stretch his mouth as wide as it would go and bawl for all he was worth. Mommy and Daddy always rushed to his side like he was the only baby in the world.
When Kio was two-years-old, his favorite thing was to wrap himself in Mommy's colorful dish towels and strut around the way he'd seen pretty people do it on T.V. Mommy told him to stay in the kitchen, but he liked parading on the front lawn better because more people paid attention.
When Kio was three-years-old, his favorite thing was a bag of multi-flavored lollipops he carried everywhere but never opened. Daddy told him that one day it would rot and even though he burst into tears, he told Daddy that it was still his, rotten or not.
When Kio was four-years-old, his favorite thing was his crayon box. Adults always looked at him with the funniest expressions before grabbing their newly-decorated shoes and racing out of the house.
When Kio was five-years-old, his favorite thing was to latch onto Mommy with his left hand, latch onto Daddy with his right hand, and then swing through the air between them. Even though his arms hurt from the strain sometimes, he liked the feeling of cold air whistling past.
When Kio was six-years-old, his favorite thing was a puppy named Icky who always looked tired and sad, not like the other pups in the litter. There was nothing he loved more than making that puppy bark.
When Kio was seven-years-old, his favorite thing was to sneak up on unsuspecting souls and dump a bucket of paint over their heads. He always told them the paint was permanent before running away, giggling.
When Kio was eight-years-old, his favorite thing was a hot pink, lopsided Valentine's card that read "I LUVE YUO" in magic marker. He didn't know who his secret admirer was, so he spent three days writing "I LUVE YU TOO" cards to all his friends and classmates.
When Kio was nine-years-old, his favorite thing was a park two streets away where he saw a little girl crying one afternoon. The neighborhood kids had invited him to play, but he forgot about those plans when the girl told him through sniffles and hiccups that her mommy had left her and no one wanted her anymore.
When Kio was ten-years-old, his favorite thing was to help Mommy bake cakes and desserts. A guest to the house once remarked that most boys liked eating sweet things better than making them, but Kio thought the man had probably never given anyone a slice of pie before.
When Kio was eleven-years-old, his favorite thing was to run his fingers through his gorgeous, newly-dyed hair and wink at whoever's attention he happened to catch. He liked being a spotlight amidst a sea of black.
When Kio was twelve-years-old, his favorite thing was a men's underwear magazine that he'd snuck out of the garbage when Dad tossed it out. He told himself he kept it under his pillow because he liked to sketch human anatomy.
When Kio was thirteen-years-old, his favorite thing was to flirt with pretty boys who crossed his path. His parents might not have known what to do with him, but he sure knew what he wanted.
When Kio was fourteen-years-old, his favorite thing was the conspicuous gold hoop in his left ear. Some of his friends wouldn't talk to him anymore, but he smiled sadly and kept the hoop anyway.
When Kio was fifteen-years-old, his favorite thing was to take photographs of his friends when they least suspected it. His friends complained when they saw the embarrassing sketches and paintings produced, but no one ever told him to stop.
When Kio was sixteen-years-old, his favorite thing was an art book his fifth boyfriend had given him. It was a book on landscapes, and he only sketched still-lifes nowadays, but it was a thoughtful gift nonetheless.
When Kio was seventeen-years-old, his favorite thing was to collect information on Japan's most prestigious art college. Two of his closest friends told him he was aiming for the impossible, but he was talented and he was hopeful.
When Kio was eighteen-years-old, his favorite thing was an abstract butterfly painting one of his classmates from Japan's most prestigious art college had drawn. Something about the colors and forms made him want to laugh and cry at the same time.
When Kio was nineteen-years-old, his favorite thing was to stalk Agatsuma Soubi, the mysterious butterfly painter, and look for that rare smile. Soubi's smile made him want to cry, but he had happiness to share.
When Kio was twenty-years-old, his favorite thing was a blood-stained scarf Soubi had forgotten at his apartment one difficult night. Kio had never known an article of clothing to mean so much.
When Kio was twenty-one-years-old, his favorite thing was to hear Soubi's deep voice brushing across his ear a warm, "Happy Birthday, Kio." He would take what he was offered, and he would wait.
A/N: And after that year, Kio's favorite thing was kissing Soubi each morning. His waiting paid off. Teehee.
If you squint really hard and buy a microscope, you might make out how each favorite thing relates to Kio and Soubi's relationship. Then again, maybe a strong enough microscope has yet to be invented. (I'm not in denial at all.) And I've still not discovered how Kio and Soubi actually met or when Kio's birthday is.
Thanks for reading!
July 6, 2007