If life had been fair, it would have been more bearable. If life had
been fair, it would have been more kind. If life had been fair, it
wouldn't have put Tim up to dealing with these particularly…odd…customers.
In short, life wasn't fair.
Tim watched with long since adopted resignation as the seven men (or was it six men and one woman?) moved about in the apartment, settling in. He recalled how they'd fallen out of a giant Ford Excursion and surged into his office, barely squeezing into the small space. Tim had waited, wide- eyed with shock, for an uncomfortable two minutes before the flame-haired stranger at the front of the pack leaned forward and, with a fang-toothed grin, asked the question Tim had long been dreading since they rolled onto his front lawn.
"Can we rent an apartment?"
Now the disheartened landlord stood helplessly to the side while all seven crazies dumped their junk on the white carpet of his largest apartment. He knew the color wouldn't last even a week.
"If you would make six copies of this key…" Tim jolted at the sound of a quiet voice in his ear. He turned to face one of the clients in all his long-haired beauty.* Must be an actor, Tim thought derisively.** Expects me to treat him like he's a king or something. Slapping on a fake smile, he replied, "Yes, it'll only take a moment." He took the key from the man's delicate fingers and escaped down the stairs.
"Smooth move, no da," commented the client's blue-haired friend, Chichiri. Toying with his necklace, the priest continued, ignoring the look of confusion on the regal one's face. "He looked as though he were going to go berserk, na no da."
"Oh. I was just getting us more keys," Hotohori replied with a shrug that made his hair glisten in the practically non-existent light.
Nearby, Tamahome gazed at a photograph that he clutched tightly in his hands. "Miaka…" he murmured. "Miaka…Miaka…Miaka…"
"Hey lover boy! We're sorry she's not here to repeat your name in return, but would you please put away the picture and give us a lil' help over here?" yelled Tasuki from the stairs. He and a gasping Chiriko were doubled over beneath a large, plush couch on the stairwell. It was a miracle they'd made it thus far. Before Tamahome could part with his beloved photo, Tasuki and Chiriko had the looks of toppled cows as they felt the weight being lifted from their backs. They turned to see Nuriko grinning and hefting the couch on one hand.
"Run along, children," he said in a matronly tone. "I'll be right behind you."
Tasuki and Chiriko sweatdropped. "Should we take the desk for you?" Tasuki attempted.
Nuriko blinked and glanced over his shoulder at the desk balancing on his other hand. He giggled, blushing. "I forgot it was there!" he exclaimed. "You know how it is sometimes, when you're carrying a big piece of furniture up the stairs and you get distracted and forget…"
"Hn," came a disgruntled grunt from behind. Tasuki, Nuriko, and Chiriko peered down the stairs to see Mitsukake straining under the weight of two cardboard boxes. Nuriko giggled inanely and blushed again. "Better get these things upstairs," he commented cheerily. Tasuki and Chiriko ran, and within no time at all the couch was set up in front of the TV and the desk in Hoto and Chiriko's room.+
Finally, all the furniture was in place and the last boxes upstairs. The seven seishi crowded around the monstrous pile of taped cardboard and gazed at it lovingly, imagining the items inside. "All right, guys…" Tamahome whispered. "One…two…"
"Three! Threethreethree!" yelled Tasuki, attacking the boxes. The rest followed suit. Packaging peanuts, shreds of newspaper, and bubble wrap flew into the air as they tore at the boxes with mad abandon. Tasuki caught a page of the Sunday paper and glanced at it. His eyes grew wide and starry. "Hey, the comics!" he cried, detaching a fang from the packing tape. He huddled to the side, voraciously reading the colored squares.
Hotohori was next to desert the task. Pausing for a moment, he noticed the black ink smudges the newspaper left behind on his skin. "My hands!" he cried, and ran desperately to the bathroom.
Nuriko sighed and sat back on his heels. A sharp series of pops emitted from his bum. He cried out in alarm.
Chichiri peered over. "What is this wonder, no da?" he breathed, picking up the bubble wrap. "It's amazing!" With that he wandered off to his room, popping the bubbles in a most annoying fashion.
"Miaka sure did a good job of packing our things," Chiriko commented wearily to Mitsukake. But the healer's attention was elsewhere.
"Tama!" he bellowed, chasing after the cat. Tama bounded away, tightey whiteys gripped in his teeth. Tamahome, seeing this, turned nearly as white as they and joined in the chase.
Just then, Nuriko found the liquor and wandered off to the kitchen to have a Nuriko Special, leaving Chiriko alone to finish unpacking. Chiriko sighed and began to wrestle open another box when there was a timid knock upon the door. "Visitors already?" he wondered to himself, and opened the door to reveal a very faint-hearted landlord.
"Are…are they gone?" Tim squeaked.
Chiriko nodded. "More or less."
The man regained some composure. "Well…here…here are your keys, boy." They jingled in his trembling hand. Chiriko took them and bowed before shutting the door in Tim's face.
"What an odd man…" he mused.
*At this point, the author smacks herself and chides, "Landlord not yaoi! Bad llama!"
**Yes, yes, we know. Tim is a bad man.
+It's an apartment! They have to share! Rooms, that is, not beds. Though you never know…^^;;
Tim watched with long since adopted resignation as the seven men (or was it six men and one woman?) moved about in the apartment, settling in. He recalled how they'd fallen out of a giant Ford Excursion and surged into his office, barely squeezing into the small space. Tim had waited, wide- eyed with shock, for an uncomfortable two minutes before the flame-haired stranger at the front of the pack leaned forward and, with a fang-toothed grin, asked the question Tim had long been dreading since they rolled onto his front lawn.
"Can we rent an apartment?"
Now the disheartened landlord stood helplessly to the side while all seven crazies dumped their junk on the white carpet of his largest apartment. He knew the color wouldn't last even a week.
"If you would make six copies of this key…" Tim jolted at the sound of a quiet voice in his ear. He turned to face one of the clients in all his long-haired beauty.* Must be an actor, Tim thought derisively.** Expects me to treat him like he's a king or something. Slapping on a fake smile, he replied, "Yes, it'll only take a moment." He took the key from the man's delicate fingers and escaped down the stairs.
"Smooth move, no da," commented the client's blue-haired friend, Chichiri. Toying with his necklace, the priest continued, ignoring the look of confusion on the regal one's face. "He looked as though he were going to go berserk, na no da."
"Oh. I was just getting us more keys," Hotohori replied with a shrug that made his hair glisten in the practically non-existent light.
Nearby, Tamahome gazed at a photograph that he clutched tightly in his hands. "Miaka…" he murmured. "Miaka…Miaka…Miaka…"
"Hey lover boy! We're sorry she's not here to repeat your name in return, but would you please put away the picture and give us a lil' help over here?" yelled Tasuki from the stairs. He and a gasping Chiriko were doubled over beneath a large, plush couch on the stairwell. It was a miracle they'd made it thus far. Before Tamahome could part with his beloved photo, Tasuki and Chiriko had the looks of toppled cows as they felt the weight being lifted from their backs. They turned to see Nuriko grinning and hefting the couch on one hand.
"Run along, children," he said in a matronly tone. "I'll be right behind you."
Tasuki and Chiriko sweatdropped. "Should we take the desk for you?" Tasuki attempted.
Nuriko blinked and glanced over his shoulder at the desk balancing on his other hand. He giggled, blushing. "I forgot it was there!" he exclaimed. "You know how it is sometimes, when you're carrying a big piece of furniture up the stairs and you get distracted and forget…"
"Hn," came a disgruntled grunt from behind. Tasuki, Nuriko, and Chiriko peered down the stairs to see Mitsukake straining under the weight of two cardboard boxes. Nuriko giggled inanely and blushed again. "Better get these things upstairs," he commented cheerily. Tasuki and Chiriko ran, and within no time at all the couch was set up in front of the TV and the desk in Hoto and Chiriko's room.+
Finally, all the furniture was in place and the last boxes upstairs. The seven seishi crowded around the monstrous pile of taped cardboard and gazed at it lovingly, imagining the items inside. "All right, guys…" Tamahome whispered. "One…two…"
"Three! Threethreethree!" yelled Tasuki, attacking the boxes. The rest followed suit. Packaging peanuts, shreds of newspaper, and bubble wrap flew into the air as they tore at the boxes with mad abandon. Tasuki caught a page of the Sunday paper and glanced at it. His eyes grew wide and starry. "Hey, the comics!" he cried, detaching a fang from the packing tape. He huddled to the side, voraciously reading the colored squares.
Hotohori was next to desert the task. Pausing for a moment, he noticed the black ink smudges the newspaper left behind on his skin. "My hands!" he cried, and ran desperately to the bathroom.
Nuriko sighed and sat back on his heels. A sharp series of pops emitted from his bum. He cried out in alarm.
Chichiri peered over. "What is this wonder, no da?" he breathed, picking up the bubble wrap. "It's amazing!" With that he wandered off to his room, popping the bubbles in a most annoying fashion.
"Miaka sure did a good job of packing our things," Chiriko commented wearily to Mitsukake. But the healer's attention was elsewhere.
"Tama!" he bellowed, chasing after the cat. Tama bounded away, tightey whiteys gripped in his teeth. Tamahome, seeing this, turned nearly as white as they and joined in the chase.
Just then, Nuriko found the liquor and wandered off to the kitchen to have a Nuriko Special, leaving Chiriko alone to finish unpacking. Chiriko sighed and began to wrestle open another box when there was a timid knock upon the door. "Visitors already?" he wondered to himself, and opened the door to reveal a very faint-hearted landlord.
"Are…are they gone?" Tim squeaked.
Chiriko nodded. "More or less."
The man regained some composure. "Well…here…here are your keys, boy." They jingled in his trembling hand. Chiriko took them and bowed before shutting the door in Tim's face.
"What an odd man…" he mused.
*At this point, the author smacks herself and chides, "Landlord not yaoi! Bad llama!"
**Yes, yes, we know. Tim is a bad man.
+It's an apartment! They have to share! Rooms, that is, not beds. Though you never know…^^;;