The Language of Love?!
A Here Is Greenwood ficlet
by r-chan
--------------------------------------------------------
The four boys were piled into Mitsuru's and
Shinobu's room, studying. Suka was buried beneath a
stack of history books on the Tokugawa Shogunate as tall
as he was, and Shun was nibbling on the end of his
eraser, pleading to the muses for inspiration on his
Modern Japanese essay. Mitsuru was glancing over the
rough patches in his English vocabulary, glaring
malevolently at Shinobu, who was perched coolly on his
bed, a French book cracked in his hand.
"Remind me WHY I'm studying English?" Mitsuru
sighed, throwing his book to the floor in disgust. "I'm
never gonna get that bizarre thing they do to their
'r's. How do you split that into two sounds, anyway?"
he puffed.
"Easily. You don't touch the back of your teeth
when you say 'r,' and you do for the 'l,' " Shinobu
concluded, flipping his book down to Mitsuru. "Try your
hand at this."
The blonde flipped through it quickly, aghast.
"It's got more 'l's than English! How can you study
this?"
"They say it's the language of love, " Shinobu
avoided a potential rant from his neighbors and lover
about 'keeping his brains to himself' by biting back a
comment on how easy it was.
"Oh, really?" Shun's interest was peaked, and
the pencil fell to the table, forgotten. Suka peered
over his tomes of history, for once interested in what
the sempai was going to say. "Say something!"
"Ah, ah, " Shinobu paused, racking his brain.
"What should I say?"
"Whatever you feel like saying!" Shun chirped.
"Parlez-vous pas Anglais, " he stated simply,
watching the others for their reactions.
"Wow! Shinobu-sempai, you're sooo smart!" Shun
giggled, picking up his pencil.
"I wanna know what he said, " Suka said
stubbornly. "He probably made it up."
"Actually, when you put the words he used
together, " Mitsuru interrupted, holding Shinobu's
book, "it means, 'You can't speak English, ' or 'You
don't speak English.'" He handed the book to the
spluttering youth.
"It does not!" Suka denied.
"Yes, it does, " Shinobu responded, lifting the
book from his hands, and kicked his feet almost
childishly at the boy.
"Ne, Mitsuru-sempai, I've always heard that one
of the best ways to get a feel for a language is to
listen to it spoken or sung naturally. Don't we have an
American station here in Tokyo?" Shun offered. "We
could turn it on and listen to it for a while."
"That's a good idea, " Shinobu offered,
stretching over to the radio and turning it on. A
spunky song came on the radio, and Shun's eyes lit up.
"I know this song! It came out with a movie; I
forget what it was called . . . about a burlesque. The
Mule in Rouge?" he guessed.
"A mule in red?" Shinobu's critical eyebrow
raised at the pink haired boy, who blushed and bent back
over his paper.
"At least, that's how I heard it, " Shun
blushed.
"Then again, Mitsuru, his English is better than
yours, because he actually came close to the real word,
and translated it, " Shinobu turned to his lover, who
only growled in response.
"I believe you mean 'The Moulin Rouge,'"
Shinobu corrected, and Shun grinned.
"That's it! It's about a burlesque house, ne?"
"Yes."
The song carried on in the background, naming
the place in question after a jumble of mish-mashed
English phrases. After it, another few lines of
nonsense echoed on the airwaves, followed by distict
French.
As soon as it had gone by, Suka turned an
expectant eye on Shinobu. "Well? What did that mean?"
he demanded.
Shinobu smirked at him. "You don't want to
know."
"I do too! Tell me!" Suka had pushed his books
away now, glaring at his sempai.
"Fine. I'll translate, " Shinobu suddenly
adopted the look of a cat that had just caught the
canary, and before Suka could mutter a 'why me?,' he
leveled the redhead with a Look. "You asked for it.
"'Voules-vouz coucher avec moi cet soir,' as the
song said, means 'I want you in bed with me tonight, '"
he grinned evilly at his neighbor, who shot blood across
the entire room. Shun looked on in worried interest,
and Mitsuru stood up, grabbing his tape measurer.
"Congratulations, Shinobu, you've just got the
best ranking on the boards. That's a lot of money, "
the blonde snickered. "And you're in the best for
winning it."
Shun turned on his sempai with an exasperated
look. "You guys were betting on how far you could make
blood shoot from Suka's nose? Is there anything you two
DON'T bet on?"
"Nope, " Mitsuru grinned, pocketing his tape
measurer.
"And he begged to be told what it meant, "
Shinobu reminded him.
"And it was your idea to listen to the radio!"
Mitsuru added. Shun sighed, hanging his head.
"At least help me get him back to our room, "
he sighed, grabbing Suka's wrists. "He's too innocent
to be living next to you two . . . "
--------------------------------------------------------
OWARI!
A Here Is Greenwood ficlet
by r-chan
--------------------------------------------------------
The four boys were piled into Mitsuru's and
Shinobu's room, studying. Suka was buried beneath a
stack of history books on the Tokugawa Shogunate as tall
as he was, and Shun was nibbling on the end of his
eraser, pleading to the muses for inspiration on his
Modern Japanese essay. Mitsuru was glancing over the
rough patches in his English vocabulary, glaring
malevolently at Shinobu, who was perched coolly on his
bed, a French book cracked in his hand.
"Remind me WHY I'm studying English?" Mitsuru
sighed, throwing his book to the floor in disgust. "I'm
never gonna get that bizarre thing they do to their
'r's. How do you split that into two sounds, anyway?"
he puffed.
"Easily. You don't touch the back of your teeth
when you say 'r,' and you do for the 'l,' " Shinobu
concluded, flipping his book down to Mitsuru. "Try your
hand at this."
The blonde flipped through it quickly, aghast.
"It's got more 'l's than English! How can you study
this?"
"They say it's the language of love, " Shinobu
avoided a potential rant from his neighbors and lover
about 'keeping his brains to himself' by biting back a
comment on how easy it was.
"Oh, really?" Shun's interest was peaked, and
the pencil fell to the table, forgotten. Suka peered
over his tomes of history, for once interested in what
the sempai was going to say. "Say something!"
"Ah, ah, " Shinobu paused, racking his brain.
"What should I say?"
"Whatever you feel like saying!" Shun chirped.
"Parlez-vous pas Anglais, " he stated simply,
watching the others for their reactions.
"Wow! Shinobu-sempai, you're sooo smart!" Shun
giggled, picking up his pencil.
"I wanna know what he said, " Suka said
stubbornly. "He probably made it up."
"Actually, when you put the words he used
together, " Mitsuru interrupted, holding Shinobu's
book, "it means, 'You can't speak English, ' or 'You
don't speak English.'" He handed the book to the
spluttering youth.
"It does not!" Suka denied.
"Yes, it does, " Shinobu responded, lifting the
book from his hands, and kicked his feet almost
childishly at the boy.
"Ne, Mitsuru-sempai, I've always heard that one
of the best ways to get a feel for a language is to
listen to it spoken or sung naturally. Don't we have an
American station here in Tokyo?" Shun offered. "We
could turn it on and listen to it for a while."
"That's a good idea, " Shinobu offered,
stretching over to the radio and turning it on. A
spunky song came on the radio, and Shun's eyes lit up.
"I know this song! It came out with a movie; I
forget what it was called . . . about a burlesque. The
Mule in Rouge?" he guessed.
"A mule in red?" Shinobu's critical eyebrow
raised at the pink haired boy, who blushed and bent back
over his paper.
"At least, that's how I heard it, " Shun
blushed.
"Then again, Mitsuru, his English is better than
yours, because he actually came close to the real word,
and translated it, " Shinobu turned to his lover, who
only growled in response.
"I believe you mean 'The Moulin Rouge,'"
Shinobu corrected, and Shun grinned.
"That's it! It's about a burlesque house, ne?"
"Yes."
The song carried on in the background, naming
the place in question after a jumble of mish-mashed
English phrases. After it, another few lines of
nonsense echoed on the airwaves, followed by distict
French.
As soon as it had gone by, Suka turned an
expectant eye on Shinobu. "Well? What did that mean?"
he demanded.
Shinobu smirked at him. "You don't want to
know."
"I do too! Tell me!" Suka had pushed his books
away now, glaring at his sempai.
"Fine. I'll translate, " Shinobu suddenly
adopted the look of a cat that had just caught the
canary, and before Suka could mutter a 'why me?,' he
leveled the redhead with a Look. "You asked for it.
"'Voules-vouz coucher avec moi cet soir,' as the
song said, means 'I want you in bed with me tonight, '"
he grinned evilly at his neighbor, who shot blood across
the entire room. Shun looked on in worried interest,
and Mitsuru stood up, grabbing his tape measurer.
"Congratulations, Shinobu, you've just got the
best ranking on the boards. That's a lot of money, "
the blonde snickered. "And you're in the best for
winning it."
Shun turned on his sempai with an exasperated
look. "You guys were betting on how far you could make
blood shoot from Suka's nose? Is there anything you two
DON'T bet on?"
"Nope, " Mitsuru grinned, pocketing his tape
measurer.
"And he begged to be told what it meant, "
Shinobu reminded him.
"And it was your idea to listen to the radio!"
Mitsuru added. Shun sighed, hanging his head.
"At least help me get him back to our room, "
he sighed, grabbing Suka's wrists. "He's too innocent
to be living next to you two . . . "
--------------------------------------------------------
OWARI!
