Title: Buckets of Fun
Characters: Kurogane, Fai, Syaoran, Sakura, Mokona, Mr. Bucket, clerk
Pairing: None
Rating: PG13 for language
Summary: Kurogane is his regular pissy self fighting against supernatural forces that know a lot more about what he's doing than he does. This, predictably enough, pisses Kurogane off more, but what else is new?
Disclaimer: I don't own Tsubasa or anything cool like that.
Warning: This fic has a lot of dialouge.
Note: This fic was written for Aki-san in response to her weekly song challenge. Um. The week's song, "Fighter" by Bird, is in the ficcu becasue...er...it inspired me to add the word fighter. I know, I'm lame. But hey, it got me through two more lines of dialouge that mcuh faster.

Full lyrics found here: http/ aki- omoi. livejournal. com/1 3485 6. html #cut id1

From afar the apartment looked lonesome and deserted, as though forever uncomfortable with the subject of it's age and awkwardly unaccustomed with the sort of humanity it had come to house. The blank eyes of it's window panes reflected the outside light blindly, remaining dull and distant and absorbing nothing. Nestled in a crossroad's collection of similar specimens, the building seemed to rest aside and apart within it's own realm of impenetrable gloom. As one drew nearer the place there was the peculiar phenomenon of his or her initial sense of foreboding getting a whole lot worse.

Even more so inside it was a building you had to feel sorry for. No human pain could evoked such soul-wrenching pity as that of the unfilled, gaping wounds of long sold-off gold adornments and fine wood panelling. Everywhere it did and didn't belong, there dwelled leprous patches of mould carrying with it a distinctive odour that dominated every room.

Tragically for those involved, Kurogane was able to pronounce the place both habitable and inexpensive. It was also packed and holding one room vacancy. Kurogane, however, had counted two.

"Well, yes, of course there are two, Mr. Kurogane. One room is left open for…you know…the President."

"I have a feeling the people here would burn the President at the stake before giving up a damn room."

"It's just a custom, sir."

"But, I'm positive you're lying. And even if you aren't, we have a princess. That's even better than your stinking president."

"How's your princess better than a president?"

"Because the fate of the entire country isn't in her hands. She's purely iconic."

"Some people would say the same about our president."

"Then I guess that makes your president and a twelve-year-old child just about equal, right? Congratulations."

The clerk was about to agree with this. Then, the most obvious question found him. "And how do I know she's really a princess?"

Kurogane only looked at him, looked hard and long. The clerk noted red eyes. He also became acutely aware of Mr. Kurogane's size. "Because," Kurogane said with an appropriate sneer, "you don't want me to have to convince you."

And thus the troupe earned the Presidential Suite.

"Yay! Kurogane is a diplomat!" Mokona cheered and bounced into Kurogane's shoulder. In response, the diplomat tried to smash the manjuu with items from a conveniently placed assortment of crockery.

In concern of sanitation, Syaoran had insisted Sakura wasn't using the Presidential Suite. The room had been vacated for several years and had accumulated so much life that it was likely near to developing a soul as well. The males, to preserve the machismo of their sex, had opted to take this room and leave the princess and the manjuu downstairs.

The Presidential Suite was on the uppermost floor of the hotel, which interested Fai who thought such a position was better served as an attic. It was fine old room anyway. Overlooking the spider webs and grey sheath of dust, it was almost cosy. Unfortunately, none of Mokona's fabulous abilities included housecleaning, so it was up to Fai, Kurogane, and Syaoran to make the room liveable. This effort took three long, undignified hours, seeing that none of these males had developed the knack for what was in each of their societies viewed as a feminine skill. Surprisingly, even Fai managed to fail at this and was reduced to sweeping dust and grim under the couch to keep from having to deal with it. Kurogane, who was the leading throb of testosterone, was charged with killing the room's wildlife. Only Syaoran seemed to take to cleaning well. This was, of course, not a result of him living alone with too much responsibility, but due to the fact that he was twelve and not yet a true man.

The room was satisfactory to Kurogane near midnight, and he grumbled something about sleeping previously in life inside a hole in the ground. Fai, who had never slept in a hole in the ground, asked for details and if the apartment was really that much cleaner after their effort to be more comfortable than Kurogane's hole in the ground. Kurogane reminded him drily that he had said nothing about the apartment being considerably better, but that he'd at least survive it.

Kurogane had come to know the apartment closely after roving through all it's nooks and crannies in pursuit of mice and arachnids. It was hard to find any of these in the dark. Fai had never gotten around to cleaning the windows, so the room was remained dim and miserable. There was nothing to reflect the light, and it stayed timidly in it's corner where the room's one archaic sconce had been lit. Kurogane decided that he would make Fai get back to work so as to save everyone's vision.

"Why didn't you clean the windows?"

"Forgot. There's not a whole lot to see outside, anyway, don't you think?" Fai asked carelessly because he was careless and his head was filled with nothing but sound and air.

"It's not a matter of what's outside to see; it's the light. You should also have cleaned the mirror."

"Are you asking me to clean the windows, Kuro-tan?"

"I'm sure you're capable."

"You only need to say 'please,' Kuro-puu. 'Pleeeease finish cleaning the windows, Fai-san; it will make me soooo happy!' "

Kurogane wasn't going to honour this with a worded response. Instead, he took up the empty soap bucket and plopped it sullenly onto Fai's head as a helmet. Fai turn to look at him, now with an upturned bucket substituting the area of his face. He waved his forefinger finger at Kurogane reproachfully.

"Daddy's behaving like a child. Think of how the kids are going to interpret this."

"They're going to think you look pretty dumb with a bucket on your head."

"You have to set an example, Kuro-tan."

Kurogane sighed and gave up. "Well, I think you putting off cleaning the damn windows is a pretty bad example."

There was a pause.

"…Of course not."

"What?"

Before Fai could explain his logic, the door opened and Syaoran entered with the laundry. He was nearly across the room before it occurred to him to have a second look. He stopped.

"Um, what's going on here?"

Fai was the first to respond. "Daddy's being mean."

"Kurogane-san?"

Kurogane frowned. "Don't ask me, kid. He's been ambling around with that bucket on his head for the past half hour."

Syaoran's eyes widened. "And you're not doing anything about it, Kurogane-san?"

"Why…?"

"Kuro-puu, you liar!" interrupted Fai. He turned to Syaoran, who had the unsettling sensation of talking to a overturned bucket. "I've had this bucket on my head for five minutes. It smells wet."

"Oh, shut-up, Bucket-san," Kurogane snapped. Fai peeked out at him from the rim and smiled.

"I like that name. Bucket-san." He removed the bucket and held it at eye level, imagining it was someone he didn't know and bowing politely. "Hello, I'm Mr. Bucket."

Kurogane swore. Fai ignored him.

"--Yes, my true name is very difficult to say, so you can call me Bucket-san; Mr. Bucket. Whichever."

"This is so stupid."

"Ah, you're an actual bucket, are you? Well, then you can have my name, too. Bucket-kun. You're Bucket-kun; I'm Bucket-san."

Syaoran and Kurogane shared a questioning glance. Reluctantly, Kurogane interrupted Fai's conversation.

"Since you and the soap bucket are friends, you two should clean the windows together."

"Pretty please clean the windows?"

"Now."

Fai shook his head and grabbed the window rag. "That's Kuro Daddy, Bucket-kun. He's got a bad temper, but deep down he's cute and fluffy, like Mokona."

"Did you just compare me to the meat bun?"

"Oh, look, Bucket-kun. There's hardly any water. Daddy will have to get us some."

Kurogane knew where this was going and stormed out. "Fine, I'll get your damn water." He slammed the door and began downstairs. There was a goodbye chorus from Fai and Bucket-kun following him down until he was out of hearing range.

Downstairs, the apartment lobby was deserted. The creaks and groans of the ever-settling building counted it's age and experience. (Two hundred years…five wars…decay…decay…decay….) Kurogane found this irritating. He opened the door outside and squeezed through, hearing what it had to say as well. (I don't like you, sir; you're an absolutely monstrous size.)

He made it to the well in the yard no less ticked off than when he'd left.

It didn't take long to fill the water basin he'd brought down with him. Still, Kurogane hesitated on hurrying back. As a ninja he had developed a tremendous appreciation for solitude and aloneness, and for the moment he had some. This was awarded as a short time to clear his mind and relax, but he was too furious with Fai to concentrate on that. Instead, he tired to appreciate the great Fai-lessness of his surroundings. It was a thought process that nearly worked, could have really worked, if he had chosen to look up and blow it all to pieces.

The apartment building was composed almost entirely in shades of cold blues and greens and greys except for the highest little window that glowed a rusty golden yellow. Silhouetted against this window was the unmistakable shape of Fai, who was cleaning, singing, and between every other pane, also failing at dancing. The happy Fai-lessness of the moment had come to it's demise.

Kurgane brought his water back to the lobby (Oh dear, not you again, sir.), and waited for what he deemed the appropriate amount of time for Fai to finished his production upstairs.

"Haven't you gotten any sleep?"

Kurogane turned around, surprised. Behind him was the clerk, and it bugged Kurogane that he hadn't sensed the man's approach. This was a creepy old man anyway. Kurogane didn't trust him. Kurogane didn't trust anyone, of course, but for this man he managed an extra effort.

"Do I have to answer you?"

The man smiled slowly, knowingly. He had very disconcerting teeth. "Ah, I didn't think that you would."

"What the Hell are you talking about, geezer?"

"You know what I'm talking about, I'm quite sure. Don't be so stubborn. I already know you're lying, so why keep at it?"

"What?"

"You're being very tiring."

"I don't know what the Hell you're talking about."

"But you saw him, didn't you?"

"Who?"

"The President, fool, the President!"

Kurogane looked at the old clerk blankly. "I still don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

"You have no idea, do you?"
"Thanks. I already said that."

"Oh, sorry."

And the man began to walk away.

Kurogane realised there was something very strange going on.

"Wait, geezer, I'm not done talking to you."

The man stopped and turned back around. "Yes?"

"Explain to me who the hell this president is. It's a ghost or something, right?"

"Oh, then you have seen him?"

"No, but I'm going to take that as a yes." Kurogane sighed. Apartment ghosts were never very interesting, especially if they were of some windbag old president. "So, what does your president ghost do?"

"He haunts the room where he was assassinated. Before then, this apartment building was the greatest in the city."

Kurogane brushed this sentiment for the past away with an indifferent sweep of his hand. "Forgive me for not exactly feeling remorseful over that. Does this ghost do anything particular in his haunting? Does he walk about, throw things, make loud noises. Or does he give bullshit speeches?"

The old man laughed. There was menace in it. "He alters reality. Enters people's dreams. Kills or harasses. It's never the same."

"Ah, not your typical stalk around and then leave sort of ghost?"

"Of course not," the man crooned. He was apparently very fond and proud of his resident spectre.

"And how did this president becomes such a powerful ghost?"

"He was a magician."

"That's great. Did he have a name?"

"Bucket. Charles Bucket."

Kurogane knew what had just happened. He felt like an idiot. "I don't have the fucking time for this, you old bastard."

"What are you…?" the clerk asked tentatively, his voice trailing as Kurogane grabbed his water basin and stormed towards the stairs. "Are you going back up there, Mr. Kurogane?"

"Of course I am. I don't have time for your fucking jokes."

"Good…bye…?"

Kurogane reached the Presidential Suite with half the water he'd collected. He was so convinced of the clerk's embarrassing him that it never occurred to him that the man was right.

At least not until he tried the door knob.

The door wasn't locked, but it wouldn't open. There was no lock on the other end, he knew that. He knew everything about that room. Still, this knowing in itself didn't open the door. So, he knocked. Fai would open the door. Hell, he'd open the door while singing about opening the door and keep Kurogane waiting outside for ten minutes suffering the whole thing. Then, there would be an encore.

But it only took Kurogane a few seconds to notice that there was clearly no song forthcoming. There was just Kurogane knocking on the door and manhandling the knob without saying anything. He didn't want to have to announce himself, it wasn't something Kurogane did. He reasoned against it with not wanting to wake up Sakura downstairs.

Then it came to him: the meat bun. It also occurred to him that on the prospect of Syaoran and Fai bieng gone forever, at least he still had Mokona. It was selfish, sure, but hey, he wasn't a nice guy.

Speaking of Mokona, there was suddenly a very familiar, small voice. "Heeeelp me Kuro! Waaaaah!"

"Oh god, that's fucking lame," Kurogane growled. Louder, he asked, "Where the hell are you, you damn meet bun?"

"Yay!" There was suddenly the warm, fuzzy weight of the manjuu on Kurogane's head, grabbing onto his hair to keep from tumbling off. "I'm here, Kuro, up here! Whee!"

"Do you know where Syaoran and Fai are?"

"Asleep?"

"I'm not sure."

"Ooooo, did Kuro-san lose them?"

"I wasn't watching them to begin with."

"Poor Fai-san. Poor Syaoran-kun. They're all alone."

"Do you even know what the hell is going on?"

"Waaaah!" Mokona plummeted, but not without taking half of Kurogane's scalp with him.

"If you can't hold on, don't sit there, you stupid manjuu."

Mokona rubbed his head sorely. "Mokona hurts. It was great hieght."

"For you three feet's a great height, so shut up about it."

"I'm getting Sakura."

"What?"

"She can tell us what's happening to Syaoran and Fai because you're irresponsible."

"I was getting the damn water."

"Water?"

Kurogane looked at the basin and saw that it was empty. This was wrong.

"Shit. It's the damn ghost. When the hell does a president become a ghost? What kind of sick world is this?"

"Mokona's not sure what Kuro's talking about. Mokona's getting Sakura, now."

Mokona bounced away and Kurogane sat on the stairs alone. "Fuck this," he said to the empty stairwell. He dropped the basin onto the steps below to him and there was a splash as water spilled down and the basin broke.

"What the hell?" He stood and reached for his sword. "Come out, Bucket," he challenged the door to the presidential suite, "so that I can re-kill you."

There was silence for a long moment. Nothing happened. Kurogane's eye twitched with suppressed fury.

"I'm scared that's not working, Kurogane-san. Where's Syaoran-kun and Fai-san?"

Kurogane looked down at Sakura holding Mokona and looking back at him terrified. "Hmph." He sat back down and motioned the dry stair next to him.

"Kurogane-san?"

Kurogane put off answering her. Spores of mould were no doubt celebrating the dousing, and he let her think about that. He was trying to strategise. President Bucket obviously had control beyond his room if he affected Kurogane's water basin. He probably had control of the entire apartments.

"Kurogane-san, Mokona told me you lost Syaoran-kun and Fai-san."

Kurogane's brow furrowed. He glanced hatefully at the manjuu who wasn't looking back.

"I didn't lose anyone."

"H'm?"

"You heard me."

Sakura was upset anyway. Clearly something bad was happening and Kurogane wouldn't tell her about it. His reasons for this were hard to grasp. He figured it had something to do with not wanting to upset her more than she already was. It sounded more touching that it was. If she knew about the president ghost, which was probably the stupidest thing Kurogane had heard in his entire life, she would have a small-scale breakdown.

"What the…?" Kurogane looked at Sakura who had decided to camp against his shoulder. "Oh fine. Whatever. Just keep in mind that you have a bedroom to sleep in."

"Kuro is heartless!" Mokona gasped. Kurogane rolled his eyes.

"Oh shut it up, will you?"

"Don't make Sakura upset."

"Can't you see I'm not trying to?"

"Hmph." Mokona mimicked the tone of an overly distressed Sakura, " 'Kuro-saaaan, you make me so unhappy. I will cry because you are so mean and don't care about anyone. I will never be happy again. It's so saaaaad!' "

Kurogane wanted to vomit. "You are one annoying little meat bun."

"Syaoran-kun and Fai-san are gone forever!"

"Well, you hardly seemed distressed."

There was a pause.

"Kuro-san doesn't play nice."

"Well, you're just going to have to forgive me for that, Mr. Bucket."

The Mokona that wasn't Mokona giggled in a very un-Mokona-ish way.

"That's the real Sakura, though, right?"

"Yes."

"Where's everyone else?"

The manjuu giggled again. The very thought of the others seemed to amuse him greatly.

"You yell too much, Kuro-san. You get angry too much and fight too much."

"What can I say, I'm a fighter, not a lover. I enjoy knowing I have the ability to kick the arses of sorry spirits like you."

"Ah, you are so much more confident when you know your enemy! Much more funny."

"That's nice, but I'm not a fan of saying witty things. I don't like talking. I just want to destroy you. That's it."

"Capeesh?"

"Capeesh."

The manjuu laughed again and Kurogane rolled his eyes. He stood and turned for the door, but remembered Sakura and picked her up. He decided nobly enough that he wasn't going to leave her with the manjuu.

"Where are you going, Kuro-san?"

"Your room."

"Do you think the others are still in there?"

"I'll tell you after I get the door opened."

"You're so strange."

"So are you."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment."

"Doesn't mean it was."

"Yes, but all of us have our fun little illusions."

Kurogane sneered at this and then turned once more to the door. Now, it wanted to open.

"Daddy's back, Bucket-kun. Oh dear, he hasn't got water. He's let us down."

Kurogane blinked dumbly at the room. It was the exact same. He was also startled to realise there was no Sakura in his arms, but instead there was the broken water basin.

"Wow, Kuro-tan, you look lost. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," added Syaoran who was replacing the sheets, "are you feeling all right?"

"Um, yes, I…" he looked down at the water basin, "…broke this?"

"Aw, you don't have to look so beat up about it, Kuro-puu." Fai rested a consoling hand on Kurogane's shoulder. "I'm here for you."

"Don't come near me, idiot. I don't need your help."

"Daddy's so sensitive and shy. It's all right."

Kurogane's eyes twitched. "Er. Quite."

"Kurogane, maybe grab the other end of this sheet and tuck it in," Syaoran suggested, struggling with the bedcovering. Kurogane was putting the basin down when Fai swooped in.

"Never worry, I am here for youuuu!"

Kurogane sweat dropped uneasily and Fai began busily helping Syaoran with the sheets. Kurogane went to the window and looked out. To his amazement, he could see. The glass had been cleaned flawlessly.

"How many windows did you clean?"

"Everything," Fai said, "the mirror, the windows, and the sconce. You better not complain about the lighting. I even went downstairs and got us another candleholder. Is it me, or is that clerk sort of creepy?"

"I'm sure it's you."

"This whole place is creepy, except for this room. Sakura and Mokona ought to come up here. Syaoran was going to get them once you came up, but seeing how torn up you are by breaking such a lovely water basin, we're making the beds for you."

"Don't," Kurogane said too quickly. The other two stared. "I mean, don't make Syaoran fix the beds. He can get Sakura now. It's not a problem."

"Are you suuuuuure you can handle this?"

"Why the hell are you questioning my competency in tucking in sheets, idiot?"

"Yay, Daddy is cured!"

"Just shut up and give me a corner. And leave the door opened, Syaoran."

"Huh?"

"To light the stairway, kid, the lamps aren't lit downstairs."

All three beds and a makeshift two were arranged in less than the time it took Syaoran to come back with Sakura. This met Kurogane was stuck waiting with Fai, who was currently hung up on the idea of a vulnerable Kurogane-daddy.

"How long was I getting water?"

"Huh? Oh. Twenty minutes. Did that clerk stop you?"

"Nope. Never saw him."

"Yes, he's probably scared of Kuro-wan. You're too grumpy."

"You don't understand the words justifiably frustrated, do you?"

"Of course I do. That better not be your excuse."

"Fine. It's not."

There was a pause as Fai suddenly became very distracted with something. Without warning, he lept onto Kurogane and pulled something from the back of his shirt collar.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Whee, got it!" Fai cheered and jumped down. "Hey, this sort of thing is Syaoran's job, Kuro-wan. Unfair!"

"What?" Kurogane looked at Fai and saw he was holding a feather.

"Where did you get this, Kuro-wan?"

"I'm not sure…."

"Aw, now you've spoiled the fun for Syaoran-kun."

"Oh shut the hell up. What do you want me to do, make him sit outside and hide it in here for him?"

"…That's not a bad idea….."

"Fai-san!" Syaoran shouted, entering the room carrying Sakura and seeing the feather. Before anyone could explain, Mokona woke up.

"MEEEEEERYUUUUUUU!"

Kurogane covered his ears. "Better late then never, meat bun."

Mokona cheered and jumped on him. "Well, Mokona didn't spend all night talking to funny ghosties."

Kurogane frowned. "Who the hell told you?"

"A meat bun."

"I'm going to rip your little ears out."

Mokona smiled impishly in the way Mokona smiled when he knew what other's didn't know and found it funny. Kurogane was suddenly convinced that the manjuu was very wicked at heart.

"What the hell are you laughing at? You freak, wanting to kill yourself or something?"

"Kuro is so violent. He's never thinking."

"I'm leaving this conversation. It's stupid."

The manjuu smiled again and then opened his mouth. A pretty, swirling vortex of interdimensional travel was born, and Fai cheered. Kurogane noticed the bucket Fai was holding and sighed. Without considering what was really so wrong about Fai owning a foreign bucket (because everything was wrong with it), and without worrying what Fai would think about him later (because frankly he didn't care), he reached to grab the bucket from Fai and throw it into a corner. At the very moment, however, there was the recognisable pull in his back of being sucked deep into the manjuu's sugar-reeking maw and another dimension.

Upon landing in the next world, "Ah, Bucket-kun didn't make it. Poor Bucket-kun."

"Huh?" Syaoran asked, too distracted with carrying Sakura, who had gone unconscious after receiving her feather.

"Bucket-kun didn't make it to this world."

"Oh. Er. I'm sorry."

"It's all right. He's happier where he is. Maybe there's a world of Buckets."

"Maybe you should go there," Kurogane added.

Fai looked at Kurogane and smiled.

"And Kuro-wan can join me. Buckets really seem to like you."

Kurogane growled. "What are you talking about, now, idiot?"

Fai smiled, and it reminded Kurogane of Mokona. Those two were just weird beyond comminatory reason. He was able to accept it for a time, because later that evening, it was Kurogane's turn to smile. The group needed firewood. The bucket in his cloak would do quite nicely. Thus was the end of all future topics concerning said bucket, who burned nicely and was very warm.

….And so was also the final demise of Charles Bucket, who upon cremation transcended into the heaven of the current dimension and once there, raised Hell.

The end.

Endnote: I've always wanted to incorporate "crockery" in a ficcu. Also, sadly, my knowledge of housecleaning only goes as far as Snow White. I know, I'm too good to clean house. Poor me.

It's occurred to me upon completion that I could've decide that instead of copping out, I could've put some KuroFai in here. But, that would've taken a lot more dialogue and emotional moments, and I'm really kind of lazy. Oh well. Maybe someday when all of my creativity has died, I will edit this and put KuroFai in it.

-blink- Yeah, you're right. That will never happen.