wrong
Looking
up as Mitsuru trudged into their room, Shinobu couldn't help but smile;
Mitsuru always looked so cute after band practice. The little red ring on his
mouth left from his instrument's mouthpiece was just so adorable. Although,
now that he thought about it, it was a little odd that the mark managed to last
so long. Especially considering that any type of injury to his face heals in
minutes…something to ponder on a rainy day, perhaps.
As
though sensing his roommate's thoughts, Mitsuru shot the silver-haired boy a
warning glower before flopping facedown on the bottom bunk. One elegantly shaped
eyebrow rose in silent inquiry.
When
it became apparent that he was not about to receive an explanation, Shinobu
shrugged inwardly and turned back to the problem at hand. It seemed that things
had been too…tranquil? Well that was laughable, even when bizarre things weren't
occurring at Greenwood, it was never tranquil. No, things had just been
too…well, too normal as of late.
Shinobu
shuddered at the very notion. To his way of thinking, normalcy was a bad thing.
A very bad thing. Normal people never had any fun; they just did normal
things.
How
repugnant.
Vaguely
he found himself wondering what Nagisa was doing, and blinked as he realized the
direction his mind taken him. No.
He
would rather tap dance naked in front of the whole school than voluntarily
involve his obviously insane sister. So then, back to the problem at hand.
A
muffled groan caught his attention, and his eyes widened with almost unholy
glee. Of course! Mitsuru was always getting himself into one mess or another,
and judging from his current foul mood, now was certainly not an exception.
Ahhhh…the joys of knowing the blonde boy were endless.
"So.
Are you up to talking about it yet?" Shinobu asked politely.
An
annoyed grunt was his only reply.
*****************************
The
moment he walked into the room, Mitsuru got a bad feeling. A very bad feeling. A
quick look at his roommate revealed nothing sinister, at least on the surface. There's
no knowing with him though. Mitsuru thought miserably, glaring at Shinobu
for good measure before collapsing on the lower bed.
He
knew without looking that Shinobu was doing that unbearably delightful eyebrow
thing, but he couldn't find it within himself to look. Not when everything was
about to fall apart around him.
Eventually
Shinobu relented, taking his attention off of him, and leaving Mitsuru feeling
unusually…edgy. Something had been bothering Shinobu lately, and Mitsuru knew
from long experience that it couldn't possibly be a good thing. Oh my no.
Anytime the green-eyed boy got that particular restless look, it meant trouble,
especially for him.
Burying
his face in Shinobu's pillow, Mitsuru briefly considered smothering himself
only to realize what a horribly ineffective a way that would be to kill himself.
Besides, that wouldn't solve my problem.
Groaning,
Mitsuru rubbed his still tingling lips with one hand as he contemplated his
options. I really should practice more often, my lips are out of shape.
"So.
Are you up to talking about it yet?"
Mitsuru's
eyes popped open in something very much akin to fear. Oh dear lord, someone
help me. He's got that tone of voice again.
Unable
to trust his voice, heaven only knew what would come flying out – Mitsuru
settled for an incoherent grumble. Ha! Let him try and make something out of
that!
*****************************
Shinobu's
eyes narrowed to slits. A challenge, is it? Very well, I accept, Mitsuru.
Reaching
into the top drawer of the desk, the silver-haired boy pulled out a
leather-bound book, slightly larger than his palm. Deliberately not
looking at the blonde, Shinobu moistened his index finger with his tongue and
calmly started to page through the document. Pausing at the latest entry he
allowed the faintest of smiles to cross his face.
"Dear
Diary," Shinobu began, his voice carefully modulated to carry clearly and
loudly through the room. "Today I –"
Shinobu
didn't so much as twitch when Mitsuru suddenly lunged toward him. Ripping the
battered tome from the other boy's hands, Mitsuru went into a somersault that
carried him across the room where he ended up in a crouch facing Shinobu.
Quite
impressive actually. It must be the martial arts training. Shinobu mused.
"Really
Mitsuru, you shouldn't leave that out where just anyone can find it."
Glaring
for all he was worth, Mitsuru opened his mouth to retort, and blinked. Wait a
minute…I don't have a diary…
Against
his will he glanced at Shinobu, violet eyes narrowing dangerously as he saw that
his roommate was grinning that little cat-grin of his. One of these days,
Shinobu you bastard, one of these days.
Resigned
to his fate, Mitsuru took a closer look at the book in his hand and groaned
inwardly. It was Shinobu's address book.
*****************************
"I
hope you realize that that was a dirty trick." Mitsuru grumbled, tossing the
small notebook at his roommate.
Catching
it effortlessly in one hand, Shinobu smirked, as though to say:
'You were expecting something else?'
Sighing,
Mitsuru decided that he really should have transferred to another school when
he'd had the chance. My life would have been so much simpler. He
thought wistfully.
"You
know," Mitsuru tensed at the reflective tone to his roommate's voice, "You
look uncannily like Hasukawa right now."
Sprawled
flat-out on his back in the middle of the room, the blonde boy did resemble a
certain red-haired underclassman with a penchant for moodiness.
Mitsuru's
eyes widened in righteous anger. How dare he? How dare Shinobu compare him to…
Oh what was the point? He did look like Hasukawa in one of his bleaker
moments.
*************************
Watching
his roommate closely, Shinobu was about to begin his questioning when a soft
knock sounded at the door. Mentally cursing the interruption, Shinobu schooled
his features to that of his usual bland arrogance.
A
quick look showed that Mitsuru had peeled himself off the floor and was now
seated in a more dignified position at the chabudai.
"Come
in."
The
door opened slowly, causing the two roommates a moment of mutual curiosity
before a red-faced Hasukawa blundered in, arms laden with a massive heap
of…pink.
For a
brief, horrified moment Shinobu thought that the younger boy had been caught in
some kind of baking accident. The sweet aroma of vanilla hung in the air, and
was that a hint of cinnamon tossed in as well? Giving himself a mental shake,
Shinobu dismissed the idea as totally absurd. Although with Kazuya's
luck…I wouldn't put it past him.
"Hasukawa?"
With
a disgruntled huff, the younger boy dropped the packages he had been carrying
just inside the doorway. Pinning Mitsuru in place with a narrow-eyed glare,
Hasukawa wordlessly stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him for
good effect.
Surprised
at the other boy's actions, Shinobu turned to his roommate, and froze. There
was a wide-eyed look of terror in Mitsuru's eyes that he had seen only a few
times before. My, my, is it already that time of the year? Where has
the time gone?
"I
think I understand now, Mitsuru. Don't you think you're overreacting just a
scad? It's just like any other day of the year…only more festive."
*****************************
Mitsuru
felt a bit like Damocles waiting for the sword to fall as the silence in the
room built up to an intolerable level. This is just like him…waiting for me
to crack…well I'll be damned if I give him the pleasure! He thought
defiantly.
His
resolution lasted all of a minute as he felt the weight of Shinobu's cool
green gaze on him. Ye gods, what am I thinking? Shinobu practically invented
the art of interrogation…I'll be lucky to come out of this alive.
The
quiet knock on the door was like a godsend for Mitsuru, who was beginning to
feel the first stages of panic set in.
Moving
with a speed that surpassed his earlier exertions the blonde-haired boy scurried
over to the chabudai, which had been moved to the side of the room. Taking up a
seemingly relaxed position facing the door, he pasted on one of his patented
smiles. It was the one that said 'I'm feeling fine, and you?'
He
had a varied array of such smiles, all of which were painstakingly labeled and
categorized for use in an emergency such as this.
The
smile slipped fractionally as the door inched open with no one in sight, and
then the devil himself walked in.
Or
so it seemed to a horror-stricken Mitsuru as an obviously seething Hasukawa
stumbled in, burdened by a horrendous mountain of pink-wrapped boxes. The scent
of sulfur and brimstone would have been far more welcome than what assaulted the
blonde boy's nostrils. Vanilla with the barest sprinkle of cinnamon.
Gods
no…it's already started!
The
forlorn little wail echoed in his mind, only to be brought to a screeching halt
as Hasukawa speared him with an angry look. Scrambling for something to say,
Mitsuru watched in shock as the redhead spun on his heel and stomped out.
Flinching as the door slammed shut, Mitsuru stared transfixed at the pile of
pink parcels, each lovingly hand-wrapped in differing shades of pink.
"I
think I understand now, Mitsuru. Don't you think you're overreacting just a
scad? It's just like any other day of the year…only more festive." Shinobu
drawled, amusement tingeing his voice.
More
festive? Had Shinobu finally gone mad from all of his plottings?
Didn't
he realize that in a matter of mere moments they would be inundated with
countless pink presents, enough to literally send the entire dorm into
sugar shock?
This
pitiful smattering of boxes that Hasukawa had lugged to their room was only the
beginning, the advance scout as it were, for a full-scale invasion.
*****************************
Shinobu
found it was amazingly hard to stifle his grin at the look of dumbfounded horror
on Mitsuru's face. While he received his fair amount of sugary tokens each
year, they in no way approached what Mitsuru was typically given. Most likely
do to his more open personality. He theorized, eyes crinkling at his
roommate's obvious discomfort.
"Are
those cookies I smell? I thought you usually received chocolates." Shinobu
nearly purred, intent on getting the most out of the moment.
This
might not have been the disaster he'd been hoping for, but it would have to do
until something better came along. And besides, this would be so much
more fun. Valentine's day came only once a year, which was a pity, really.
Mitsuru was too, too adorable when he got that 'deer in the headlights'
look.
For
his part, Mitsuru was slowly edging towards the window. It was closed at the
moment, and they were on the second floor, but he was certain if he rolled just
right he should be able to avoid injury. Already he could hear the other
dorm-dwellers approaching their room, arms full of similar gifts from his
adoring mob of fan girls.
Dears
gods, why am I the only one to suffer? Why?
Mitsuru's
heartfelt complaint went unheeded, or if any deity happened to have heard it,
well, they didn't particularly care at the moment.