Sakurazuka Seishiro descendant and inheritor of the dark and powerful
Sakurazukamori clan, feared 'Guardian of the Sakura' and all-round bad guy
- was confused.
It had been over a week since he had last trapped Subaru-kun in a maraboshi, so he was well overdue for a little quality time (i.e. torment him for a few hours, have a quick grope, and let him go - probably with a few mocking words).
Yet here it was, Tuesday evening. Every Tuesday evening, Subaru took a walk around the block. Unless he had a job. Seishiro knew Subaru had a job. That was why he was stalking said job.
However Subaru hadn't shown up.
This was really going to put Seishiro's schedule out.
It wasn't possible Subaru had 'forgotten' he had a job. Subaru was one of those god-forsakenly punctual and dependable people. Something had to be up. Reaching out through their link, he located Subaru in Ueno. Cursing himself for not doing so sooner, he hurried to catch his prey.
Meanwhile, Subaru was weighing up whether or not he should take a shortcut through the Park to get home. He was returning from an appointment with the Sumeragi family doctor about the coughing fits and dizzy spells he'd been having, hence the paper bag of antibiotics and a few other products the chemist had recommended. Incidentally, the doctor had taken the chance to 'warn' Subaru if he didn't start eating right and cutting back on the cigarettes, his grandmother would be informed. Obviously doctor-patient confidentiality, just like in real life, didn't exist in this fic.
Thus Subaru was not only sick, but going through nicotine withdrawal as well. Hence his less than rational decision to take a shortcut, hoping to himself that Seishiro was still stalking out his cancelled job downtown.
"Subaru-kun! How nice to see you!" Chirped Seishiro, coming out from behind a conveniently placed Sakura. He seemed to be wheezing. . . almost as though he'd had to do quite a bit of running to get there. Fortunately Subaru, in his slightly dazed state, did not notice, hence the Sakurazukamori's reputation for cool was kept.
Seishiro flicked out a cigarette, expecting Subaru to light it in their normal routine.
Subaru just looked at him a little woosily, with the rather firm sentiment in mind, that if he wasn't allowed to have a cigarette, then there wasn't a chance in hell he was going to help Seishiro smoke one.
Seishiro gasped when Subaru failed to respond as expected. He recovered quickly.
"Well then. Straight down to business." Huffed Seishiro testily, pulling out a few dark fuda.
"I don't feel like it." Mumbled Subaru, rather accusingly. After all, it might not be Seishiro's fault he was sick, but sure as heck was Seishiro's fault he had taken up smoking in the first place, and hence the subsequent withdrawal symptoms.
Seishiro dropped his fuda in shock.
"I have a headache." Conceded Subaru, who was rummaging in the paper bag for nicotine patches.
. . . and to compound matters, he was using the oldest excuse in the book. To say Seishiro was unimpressed was an understatement. Waving a hand experimentally in front of Seishiro's shocked face a few times, Subaru shrugged to himself and shuffled off towards home.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~SOME TIME LATER~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I really really hate you." Mumbled Subaru from the bed. Seishiro was preoccupied making chicken soup and didn't hear, so Subaru settled for pulling the blankets over his head. Why? Why was fate against him? If only he hadn't passed out in the park he'd be being miserable and sick in his own apartment, instead of being miserable and sick in Seishiro's.
"Now, now Subaru!" Cheered Seishiro pulling the blankets away. "If you ate better you wouldn't be sick like this! You need to regain your strength!"
Regretfully (for Subaru), he was too weak to protest. But not to the point of allowing himself to be spoon-fed. Seishiro scowled a little at being robbed of the duty, but placated himself with going through Subaru's belongings.
In particular a blue jar caught his attention, not because of the promised freer breathing etc, but because the instructions read as follows: rub a thick layer on chest and throat or rub on sore, aching muscles. He looked at Subaru with a particularly malevolent grin. Again, Subaru was painfully naive of this, absorbed in coughing up phlegm as he was.
"Subaru-kuuuun!" Crooned Seishiro, holding up the jar suggestively. He could think of a few good uses for the ointment (and quite a few naughty ones as well). "Take off your shirt!" He demanded.
Despite being flushed and running a fever and generally being red in the face, Subaru still managed to noticeably blush. When Seishiro opened the jar however, the odour quickly drove the naughty ones away.
With a minimum of struggling Seishiro managed to get Subaru's shirt off. This was in no way due to lack of resistance on Subaru's part - yes Seishiro might admit perhaps killing Subaru's sister had not been the best way to assure his affections, but Subaru had actually bit him!
Being a huge advocate of lateral thinking, Seishiro chose to think of this as token maidenly resistance. Unfortunately, Subaru-kun, greased up like a pig, doped up on medication, coughing up phlegm and smelling of camphor was nobody's idea of a hot date.
Well . . . mostly nobody. Only Sumeragi Subaru could have gotten away with wiping their nose on the Sakurazukamori's sleeve at this point in time and still be endearing. "Want to . . ." He managed to pant out. . . "want to kill you . . ."
"Of course you do Subaru-kun! You just rest for now and let Seishiro-sensei make you allllll better!".
It had been over a week since he had last trapped Subaru-kun in a maraboshi, so he was well overdue for a little quality time (i.e. torment him for a few hours, have a quick grope, and let him go - probably with a few mocking words).
Yet here it was, Tuesday evening. Every Tuesday evening, Subaru took a walk around the block. Unless he had a job. Seishiro knew Subaru had a job. That was why he was stalking said job.
However Subaru hadn't shown up.
This was really going to put Seishiro's schedule out.
It wasn't possible Subaru had 'forgotten' he had a job. Subaru was one of those god-forsakenly punctual and dependable people. Something had to be up. Reaching out through their link, he located Subaru in Ueno. Cursing himself for not doing so sooner, he hurried to catch his prey.
Meanwhile, Subaru was weighing up whether or not he should take a shortcut through the Park to get home. He was returning from an appointment with the Sumeragi family doctor about the coughing fits and dizzy spells he'd been having, hence the paper bag of antibiotics and a few other products the chemist had recommended. Incidentally, the doctor had taken the chance to 'warn' Subaru if he didn't start eating right and cutting back on the cigarettes, his grandmother would be informed. Obviously doctor-patient confidentiality, just like in real life, didn't exist in this fic.
Thus Subaru was not only sick, but going through nicotine withdrawal as well. Hence his less than rational decision to take a shortcut, hoping to himself that Seishiro was still stalking out his cancelled job downtown.
"Subaru-kun! How nice to see you!" Chirped Seishiro, coming out from behind a conveniently placed Sakura. He seemed to be wheezing. . . almost as though he'd had to do quite a bit of running to get there. Fortunately Subaru, in his slightly dazed state, did not notice, hence the Sakurazukamori's reputation for cool was kept.
Seishiro flicked out a cigarette, expecting Subaru to light it in their normal routine.
Subaru just looked at him a little woosily, with the rather firm sentiment in mind, that if he wasn't allowed to have a cigarette, then there wasn't a chance in hell he was going to help Seishiro smoke one.
Seishiro gasped when Subaru failed to respond as expected. He recovered quickly.
"Well then. Straight down to business." Huffed Seishiro testily, pulling out a few dark fuda.
"I don't feel like it." Mumbled Subaru, rather accusingly. After all, it might not be Seishiro's fault he was sick, but sure as heck was Seishiro's fault he had taken up smoking in the first place, and hence the subsequent withdrawal symptoms.
Seishiro dropped his fuda in shock.
"I have a headache." Conceded Subaru, who was rummaging in the paper bag for nicotine patches.
. . . and to compound matters, he was using the oldest excuse in the book. To say Seishiro was unimpressed was an understatement. Waving a hand experimentally in front of Seishiro's shocked face a few times, Subaru shrugged to himself and shuffled off towards home.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~SOME TIME LATER~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
"I really really hate you." Mumbled Subaru from the bed. Seishiro was preoccupied making chicken soup and didn't hear, so Subaru settled for pulling the blankets over his head. Why? Why was fate against him? If only he hadn't passed out in the park he'd be being miserable and sick in his own apartment, instead of being miserable and sick in Seishiro's.
"Now, now Subaru!" Cheered Seishiro pulling the blankets away. "If you ate better you wouldn't be sick like this! You need to regain your strength!"
Regretfully (for Subaru), he was too weak to protest. But not to the point of allowing himself to be spoon-fed. Seishiro scowled a little at being robbed of the duty, but placated himself with going through Subaru's belongings.
In particular a blue jar caught his attention, not because of the promised freer breathing etc, but because the instructions read as follows: rub a thick layer on chest and throat or rub on sore, aching muscles. He looked at Subaru with a particularly malevolent grin. Again, Subaru was painfully naive of this, absorbed in coughing up phlegm as he was.
"Subaru-kuuuun!" Crooned Seishiro, holding up the jar suggestively. He could think of a few good uses for the ointment (and quite a few naughty ones as well). "Take off your shirt!" He demanded.
Despite being flushed and running a fever and generally being red in the face, Subaru still managed to noticeably blush. When Seishiro opened the jar however, the odour quickly drove the naughty ones away.
With a minimum of struggling Seishiro managed to get Subaru's shirt off. This was in no way due to lack of resistance on Subaru's part - yes Seishiro might admit perhaps killing Subaru's sister had not been the best way to assure his affections, but Subaru had actually bit him!
Being a huge advocate of lateral thinking, Seishiro chose to think of this as token maidenly resistance. Unfortunately, Subaru-kun, greased up like a pig, doped up on medication, coughing up phlegm and smelling of camphor was nobody's idea of a hot date.
Well . . . mostly nobody. Only Sumeragi Subaru could have gotten away with wiping their nose on the Sakurazukamori's sleeve at this point in time and still be endearing. "Want to . . ." He managed to pant out. . . "want to kill you . . ."
"Of course you do Subaru-kun! You just rest for now and let Seishiro-sensei make you allllll better!".
