Title; Of Forgetfulness

Rating; K+ (All warm and fluffy. Yes, you can all die of shock now.)

Disclaimer; I don't own it. Yet. But when I win the lotto, lemme tell ya! I will for damn certain try!

Author's Notes; For those of you who read and reviewed "Forgive Me, Father," thank you! Your comments brightened up my day and made me bounce around in my chair like an idiot. Yes, I do that when I'm happy. The positive comments made me more than eager to come up with this fiction. Plot bunnies attacked me, and then Watari basically wrote himself (he always does, crazy scientist,) and here we are. Ah, well. I love writing Tatsumi flustered, because I'm sure he could hide it very well, but he would be the type to get very flustered over little things, wouldn't he? Or is it only I who sees him that way? Anyway, for me, timeline wise, this is before The Rose and Comfort, so, sorry. Just some suggested stuff. -shifty eyes- This isn't a plug for either fic. Of course not!

Seiichiro Tatsumi had a question. A burning question which tormented the depths of his soul and forced him to question his own sanity. Well, perhaps that was a bit excessive, but he certainly had a question. What in all the levels of Hell was going on?

Working in the Summons Department of the Judgment Bureau often raised such questions, however on this day the question was being raised due to one irrefutable fact. Everyone in the office seemed to know something which Tatsumi didn't. This irked him; it truly did, because the secretary prided himself on being a knowledgeable and insightful huma-- Shinigami. A knowledgeable and insightful Shinigami.

Tatsumi sat in his office, staring at the budget deficits before him and irritably tapping his pen. Tap. Tap. All of this morning people had been smiling at him, and it was in that way that seemed to scream, 'I know something you don't know'. The pen tapped faster. Taptaptap. At first, Tatsumi had (admirably) acted as though this was a normal course of events. However, one could only stand Tsuzuki, of all people, tipping you winks from his desk and grinning brightly for so long. It was the middle of the week, the larger part of the holiday had passed, what in the world was there to be so happy about?

Even worse, it seemed not only Tsuzuki was in on the joke, but Terazuma was being less hostile and was sneaking a glance or two into Tatsumi's office, and Yuma and Saya for some reason were refusing to leave him two minute's peace. Or, they had been refusing until tossed them out of his office and into Tsuzuki's and Hisoka's.

This still further beggared the question of why everyone was acting so strangely. After checking if there was something on his face (there wasn't,) Tatsumi decided to avoid the coffee at all costs, and resolved to discover exactly what was making everyone act so strangely today.

Though his trepidation towards the coffee and food in the break room was leavened when he noticed Hisoka nursing a cup of coffee heavily laden with cream and sugar and picking at a plain muffin. The teenager was still acting normally, or at least in comparison to everyone else, so at least Tatsumi knew the food had not been drugged. That had been his original thought, and considering Watari's carelessness over whether his guinea pig was willing or not, it was not a surprising assumption. However it brought him no closer to any answers and so Tatsumi merely crossed it off a long mental list of probable answers.

Tatsumi couldn't quite bring himself to ask why everyone was acting strange…stranger... than usual. In any case, the secretary had thought over that particular option for a few moments before deciding it to be a bad one for several reasons. One being he was not sure of whom precisely one would ask. Another was that he really didn't want to admit to not knowing considering the majority of his subordinates were acting as if he should know. Tatsumi liked to keep up appearances.

When the entire morning had passed, the lunch hour was upon him, and he still hadn't figured out why people were looking at him with such humor, or why Konoe was chuckling as he asked him if he could spare a few moments after work, or why everyone seemed to be whispering conspiratorially until he stepped into the room, Tatsumi's patience was waning. Dangerously. He was a smart man, and quite keen, and it shouldn't be that blessed hard to figure out.

Needless to say, the blonde scientist chose the wrong moment to knock on the secretary's door, before barging in (he was not the type to wait for such formalities as a welcome). "Good morn-- Er, afternoon, Tatsumi," Yutaka Watari greeted cheerily, blonde hair wild and wavy, a friendly grin playing across his handsome features. "You're not working through lunch on today, are you?" Even as he took the unoffered seat in front of the desk, white tails of his lab coat flying, he cast Tatsumi a gently reproachful look.

Of course. Even Watari knew. "Yes, hello, Watari-san," Tatsumi replied, glancing up from the paperwork he had been half-heartedly filling out to peer at the younger man over the rims of his glasses. "And why shouldn't I, pray tell? Unless you would like to fill these out yourself, they do have to be done."

The blonde man leaned forward, eyeing the reports sent by the Accounting Division with trepidation, if not outright disgust. "I'll pass, thank you all the same." Watari slumped back in the seat with a somewhat dramatic air. "Before you kill me, I'll apologize that everyone else found out. Tsuzuki wrested my day timer from me, and it was in there, and I only thank Enma that he found it after Bon's, else the kid might've killed him. Next year will be interesting, though…."

"Mm-hm," was the non-commental reply.

"I assume you didn't want everyone to know, because you hadn't mentioned it before, but these things have a way of coming out, you know," Watari continued. "And I have to say I'm shocked; you're taking this rather well. I thought for certain I was going to be killed for this little charade. Just promise to act really surprised tonight, and we can get through it. Or, rather, you can. I'm looking forward to this."

"I'm sure, Watari-san," Tatsumi commented somewhat dryly, though he could not help but wonder how a man could speak so much while illuminating upon his point so little.

Watari opened his mouth as if to reply to this, before appearing to be struck by a thought. "Wait a second, Tatsumi. You do know what today is, right? You haven't yelled at me yet, so I have to wonder."

Tatsumi aimed a fearsome glare at him. "Of course I do." Not have a single clue. Best not to add that second part, though.

When Watari merely raised an eyebrow, not elucidating on his point and waiting for Tatsumi to offer proof to this declaration, Tatsumi briefly considered hurting the man. "Which would be…?"

The secretary did not at once answer, instead looking down at his papers for a moment, as if the answer would suddenly appear in large blinking neon lights so that he might prove Watari wrong. This, of course, did not happen, and when the younger man started laughing, the urge to injure him grew slightly.

It started out as muffled chuckles, before he was laughing in earnest, his wide smile not quite hidden behind his hand and his amber eyes alight with humor. Watari needed a brief moment to get his amusement under control, and when he did his smile was neither mocking nor cruel. "Sorry, Tatsumi," he said. "I am; it's just funny that you'd forget today."

"Would you care to explain or just continue to laugh at my expense?" Tatsumi asked, attempting to layer as much acid behind his tone as was possible with his wounded pride.

Watari, to his credit, took no offence to the harsh words. "It's the 27th of December, Tatsumi." When this elicited no sudden look of understanding, he added, "Your birthday."

In the moment it took to collect his calm expression, Tatsumi realized he must have looked rather shocked. Somewhat embarrassed, too, most likely. Who could forget their own birthday? He raised one hand, covering his face to straighten his glasses and briefly glanced at the calendar that hung on the wall. Yes, it was the twenty-seventh, but had he really not celebrated his birthday in so long that he could have forgotten? Perhaps sixty or so years would do that to you.

"Ah," was all he could think to say, and since there seemed to be nothing else one could say having forgotten the day of their own birth, Tatsumi add the question, "How did you find that?"

"Actually, I figured it out during the summer," Watari explained. "But there's really no tactful way of saying 'Oh, I got bored and hacked the Mother computer, so I decided to look up your birthday.' It's your own fault for not telling me, really. Did you know Bon's a fall baby?"

"…No."

"Interesting tidbit," Watari commented with a wink. Reaching up to capture the general mass of blonde waves, he produced an elastic from around his wrist, managing to hold most of them back. The shorter choppy locks around his face remained cheerfully defiant, still providing the air of disorder that he seemed to personify. "So," he said, "I'm sure you've guessed and put all the pieces together by now, right?"

Tatsumi raised one eyebrow slightly, the closest to giving Watari a 'duh' look as he could get. "Of course. They're planning some ridiculous event after work, Tsuzuki has most likely orchestrated the entire thing, which explains why I knew something was going on all day, and you obviously don't have enough to do if you have time to hack into the computers that run Meifu."

"Right! Well, half-right. I don't need more work." The scientist crinkled his nose, looking at the towering In-box on Tatsumi's desk. "And you're going out to dinner tonight."

"Am I, Watari-san?" Tatsumi asked. "Because this is the first I've heard of it."

"But now you have heard of it, and so, yes, you are." Watari was the only person who could grin in such a way while presuming to tell Tatsumi how he'd spend his evening. Actually, he was the only one to presume to tell Tatsumi anything of the sort, grinning or no.

"Dare I assume that I won't be eating alone, then?"

"Of course. You're going to the new restaurant in Kyushu with someone else who's footing the bill for the entire thing."

Tatsumi nearly laughed at this; however he limited himself to an amused smile. "Did you think that offering to pay was the only way to persuade me to join you?"

"It's what I was going with," Watari responded with a shrug and a grin. "Does this mean you're feeling good natured enough that you'll join me?"

The secretary's eyes dropped to the small clock on his desk; lunch was almost half over, and he considered possibly seeing if there was anything in the break room that resembled something edible once Watari had left. "I have a feeling my refusal would do little to hinder your enthusiasm," he remarked dryly.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," Watari said. "I made a tentative reservation at the restaurant, because I expect Tsuzuki planned the entire thing badly, and it should only take about an hour. Unless either he or Konoe decide to bring out anything stronger than coffee like they did at the Christmas party, in which case they'll forget why they started drinking in the first place, and you can leave anyway. Oh, and here." As if suddenly remembering, he shoved a hand into one of the large pockets of his lab coat, and held the item out to his colleague.

Tatsumi blinked, looking somewhat surprised. It was a plainly wrapped gift, with dark blue paper, though the feature which was most eye-catching was a golden bow which clashed cheerfully with the other hue. He took the gift and placed it down in front of him on his desk. "Thank you, Watari-san, but why are you giving this to me now?"

"You're welcome," Watari replied, "though you should probably see what it is before saying that. And to answer your question, because I thought of it now. Also, you don't seem the type who would enjoy opening gifts in front of a lot of people, so giving it to you at the restaurant probably would've been a bad idea."

Well, that much was true. Tatsumi disliked the public frivolity of it all, and gift giving and receiving in general. The entire practice had become somewhat impersonal over the years. Running his fingers between the overlapping of the wrapping paper, he snapped the tape crisply off. After folding what little paper there was and placing it to the side, with the tacky bow on top, he looked down at his gift. It was a book, new, somewhat small, but thick, and leather bound. The embossed title declared it to be collected works of Western style classic fiction. Certainly not impersonal.

"Thank you," Tatsumi repeated, genuinely.

"You're welcome…again." Watari smiled, stood and stretched. "I should go pick up 003; I dropped her off with Wakaba on my way up, and she'll be annoyed if I leave her for too long." He half rolled his eyes, murmuring something about temperamental. Turning, he headed towards the door, coat snapping behind him, and looking in general quite as overwhelmingly exuberant as he had when he'd arrived. "Bye, Tatsumi. And no trying to tell me you're working late; it's your birthday."

"Watari-san," Tatsumi began, but when he received only a suspicious look, he said, "Considering I'm dealing with Tsuzuki-san and you, I doubt I'd be able to." Apparently this appeased the scientist enough, because he was gone with a small grin and a wave. Tatsumi sat back in his chair, holding the small tome in his hands and absently flipping through the pages.

He'd always liked Western fiction, having read much of his father's old books. Those had been in poor condition, though, from a combination of poverty and having been read too many times. When Tatsumi reached the front cover, he noticed writing on the inside. In a too familiar, carefully clear handwriting, was printed, 'Happy birthday, Tatsumi. Try to lighten up a little and enjoy it. You deserve it.'

Tatsumi reread the words, the closed the book and looked down at the paperwork in front of him. Somehow, he didn't think it was the tax exemptions that caused the small smile on his face.

------

"Thanks, Wakaba," Watari called over his shoulder as he left her office, a tiny owl riding happily along on his shoulder. Once the door had slammed shut, the bird hooted and ruffled her wings, looking up expectantly.

"Didn't get yelled at; he forgot his own birthday." A pair of large orange eyes peered up at him, and the blonde man laughed. "Yeah, he did. But dinner plans are set, at least." Watari almost sighed at the hopeless case, i.e. Seiichiro Tatsumi. Apparently, what most considered blindingly obvious, the secretary considered subtle enough to ignore, or else miss entirely.

"Ah, I'll get him yet, 003," Watari declared softly, and headed back towards his lab with a pleasant tilt to his omnipresent smile. Considering the conversation in Tatsumi's office, and the prospect of dinner tonight, Watari was becoming entirely thankful for Tatsumi's birthday.

Even if the secretary himself could not remember it.

Author's Note; Bah, the fluff. Too much. No angst at all. I think I might just keel over. I haven't done fluff in a while, I guess. I needed to lighten stuff up, anyway. I wrote this in one day, but it took a while because I kept getting sidetracked. Blame Uryû from Bleach. I was easily distracted by his Quincy…ness. Yeah, I'm making excuses. Anyway, I apologize if it's a little OoC, because as I said, this was a very quick write up, as I wanted it to be put out on Tatsumi's birthday. Yay for fluff with Watari, right? And I just wanted to make our favorite secretary forget his own birthday, because it amuses me. Thanks for reading, and please review!

Humbly yours,
--Phoenix