For Lacey-koi. There! I updated! Happy now?
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If Only Air Weren't So Thick
Wufei didn't get up until noon that day - the only other person not up at nine was Duo. The other pilots swore to God that he was dead, that Heero had killed him when he was talking to him last night. The only other person, excluding Heero and Wufei, that originally knew about the two talking in Heero's room was Duo. So, naturally, everyone in the house knew. And the only reason the braided one (A/N: couldn't resist!) knew was because he had his ear to the door the *entire* time, which meant that everyone in the household also knew what their conversation was about ... excluding the last few sentences. He'd have known those, too, had he not had to run when he heard the door begin to open. There were two things of his he didn't want to loose - his neck and, most importantly, his braid.
Wufei slowly allowed his eyelids to lift, and sat up to stretch and begin his morning routine of meditation and, when he thought it fit, an hour or two of training. Seeing it was all ready light outside, he assumed it was only seven and that he'd only missed two hours of his meditation. He leaned over to where his clock was, to see when to ask Trowa to come get him from his meditation, when he almost screamed in fury. It was noon - he'd overslept by *seven* hours. Falling back on the bed, he let out a long sigh and whispered to himself-
"What is wrong with me? First that dream and now my alarm clock not going off? What the hell?" He was just about to fall back asleep when a loud scream rang through the air.
"KISAMA!" Foot steps pounded up the stairs.
"Guys, please, don't hurt him too much...!" The voice was soft and pleading.
"Right, just sew his mouth shut. But then he'd porbably learn to speak telepathicly or through his-" This voice was softer than the rest.
"Mochi ... I mean, *don't* -even- finish that sentence, Kamoku no Baka!" 'The first voice again...' Wufei sat up straight in his bed. The voices were right outside his door. He reached under his bed and pulled out his katana, aiming at the dead center of the door. After a moment or two, when he could still hear them whispering but could not make out what they were saying, he went to the door and held the katana over his head, ready to strike.
"One ... two ... three!" The door swung open and he found a gun at his head. He sighed, and lowered his katana, moving the gun out of his face.
"Heero," he sighed, "What the hell are you doing standing outside my room at twelve - o - five with a loaded gun, a clown armed with his sister's throwing knives, and a worried little Arabian boy with a pot in his hand?" It took most of his strength to keep himself from dieing of laughter. There was Heero, dressed as he always was. Trowa, on the other hand, had a cheap, rubber clown mask on and had three of his "sister" Cathrine's throwing knives. Poor little Quatre, who the look of a puppy who had just been kicked, had a collander on his head and a big soup pot in his right hand.
"We are on a hunt to kill the "mighty" Shinigami, who was running his mouth as always until we threatened to hurt him in ways unimaginable. He oh - so - 'gallantly' sprinted off when we began to describe how we were going to chop his braid off," an evil, not to mention unnatural, grin spread across the Japanese boy's face, "We decided to search this room first - as the gossip *was* about you."
"About me?" Wufei was completely puzzled. He held few secrets, and those he *did* hold, no one knew, and never would.
"About our little conversation last night." 'That explains the 'kisama' I heard a minute ago...' Sighing again, he opened the door all the way and ushered them in.
"What a pack of rouges..." He muttered rolling his eyes. They scanned the small room looking for hints that a God of Death was anywhere in the room.
"Hm ... where is he?" Heero asked himself, his sniper eyes whipping around the room. He got his answer quickly. From the closet, he heard a sneeze and a very soft "Shit!". Motioning to the closet, all four pilots, each with their own game-face on, tiptoed toward the doors of the closet.
"One ...... Two ........ Three ....!" Wufei mouthed, signaling for Quatre to open the right door. And there he was, curled up in the corner, a blanket pulled over his head.
"Well, well, well!" Trowa said, an evil glint in his eye. He began to raise a hand to aim a knife between Duo's eye, when the American boy jumped up and ran out.
"Try to find me again ... because I run, I hide, but I nev-" He had gotten too far away to hear the rest. Trowa and Heero made a move for the door, but found that they couldn't move. Upon turning around, they found that Wufei and Quatre had their shirts and didn't look like they'd give them up easily. Wufei let go of Heero's, and said very clearly-
"Go find him if you want, I don't care, just don't hurt him. You love him, that would be wrong." Quatre, in turn, let Trowa go. Except all he had to do was give him the abused puppy look (that's one level up from the 'sad puppy' look and he knew that the boy wouldn't try anything. Then he turned to Wufei.
"Are you ok? You defended *Duo* and slept so late today, and ... " Quatre stopped mid sentence and found himself edging far too close to Wufei's face. Blushing, he quickly pulled his head back before he did something rash and stepped back a few feet, "Um, I mean, um, I'll talk to you later." And he ran out. Wufei, who felt anything but good at the moment, bowed his head and dropped back onto his bed.
"Why didn't I just trust my instincts? Why?" He fell backwards and picked up the rose from it's place on the bed side table next to its bed. When he smelled it, his dream of Meiran came back to him. He allowed a few tears to fell before wiping his face and clutching the rose to his chest. Amazingly, it didn't prick him, despite the fact that it had thorns. "I'm trying Meiran ... I'm trying as hard as I can." At that, he stood up and wiped his face again. Closing the door behind him, he had only one thing on his mind. 'I must find a vase! That's all I need, a vase!'
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22 reviews! Yippee! I *never* thought I'd get this many! Thanks to:
Mara Jade, Chang-Meiling, and (who would have guessed) Lacey-koi! Thanks a billion or so, to those of you that have a 121,345th sense (heh!). Don't ask. Anyway, I'll try to update soon, but I'm *loaded* with shit from school. and I HATE IT!!!!! *takes deep breath* Calm ... like the ocean, 'Star, like the ocean! Anyway, until the next time I update, keep reading my stuff and reviewing it!
_____________________________________
If Only Air Weren't So Thick
Wufei didn't get up until noon that day - the only other person not up at nine was Duo. The other pilots swore to God that he was dead, that Heero had killed him when he was talking to him last night. The only other person, excluding Heero and Wufei, that originally knew about the two talking in Heero's room was Duo. So, naturally, everyone in the house knew. And the only reason the braided one (A/N: couldn't resist!) knew was because he had his ear to the door the *entire* time, which meant that everyone in the household also knew what their conversation was about ... excluding the last few sentences. He'd have known those, too, had he not had to run when he heard the door begin to open. There were two things of his he didn't want to loose - his neck and, most importantly, his braid.
Wufei slowly allowed his eyelids to lift, and sat up to stretch and begin his morning routine of meditation and, when he thought it fit, an hour or two of training. Seeing it was all ready light outside, he assumed it was only seven and that he'd only missed two hours of his meditation. He leaned over to where his clock was, to see when to ask Trowa to come get him from his meditation, when he almost screamed in fury. It was noon - he'd overslept by *seven* hours. Falling back on the bed, he let out a long sigh and whispered to himself-
"What is wrong with me? First that dream and now my alarm clock not going off? What the hell?" He was just about to fall back asleep when a loud scream rang through the air.
"KISAMA!" Foot steps pounded up the stairs.
"Guys, please, don't hurt him too much...!" The voice was soft and pleading.
"Right, just sew his mouth shut. But then he'd porbably learn to speak telepathicly or through his-" This voice was softer than the rest.
"Mochi ... I mean, *don't* -even- finish that sentence, Kamoku no Baka!" 'The first voice again...' Wufei sat up straight in his bed. The voices were right outside his door. He reached under his bed and pulled out his katana, aiming at the dead center of the door. After a moment or two, when he could still hear them whispering but could not make out what they were saying, he went to the door and held the katana over his head, ready to strike.
"One ... two ... three!" The door swung open and he found a gun at his head. He sighed, and lowered his katana, moving the gun out of his face.
"Heero," he sighed, "What the hell are you doing standing outside my room at twelve - o - five with a loaded gun, a clown armed with his sister's throwing knives, and a worried little Arabian boy with a pot in his hand?" It took most of his strength to keep himself from dieing of laughter. There was Heero, dressed as he always was. Trowa, on the other hand, had a cheap, rubber clown mask on and had three of his "sister" Cathrine's throwing knives. Poor little Quatre, who the look of a puppy who had just been kicked, had a collander on his head and a big soup pot in his right hand.
"We are on a hunt to kill the "mighty" Shinigami, who was running his mouth as always until we threatened to hurt him in ways unimaginable. He oh - so - 'gallantly' sprinted off when we began to describe how we were going to chop his braid off," an evil, not to mention unnatural, grin spread across the Japanese boy's face, "We decided to search this room first - as the gossip *was* about you."
"About me?" Wufei was completely puzzled. He held few secrets, and those he *did* hold, no one knew, and never would.
"About our little conversation last night." 'That explains the 'kisama' I heard a minute ago...' Sighing again, he opened the door all the way and ushered them in.
"What a pack of rouges..." He muttered rolling his eyes. They scanned the small room looking for hints that a God of Death was anywhere in the room.
"Hm ... where is he?" Heero asked himself, his sniper eyes whipping around the room. He got his answer quickly. From the closet, he heard a sneeze and a very soft "Shit!". Motioning to the closet, all four pilots, each with their own game-face on, tiptoed toward the doors of the closet.
"One ...... Two ........ Three ....!" Wufei mouthed, signaling for Quatre to open the right door. And there he was, curled up in the corner, a blanket pulled over his head.
"Well, well, well!" Trowa said, an evil glint in his eye. He began to raise a hand to aim a knife between Duo's eye, when the American boy jumped up and ran out.
"Try to find me again ... because I run, I hide, but I nev-" He had gotten too far away to hear the rest. Trowa and Heero made a move for the door, but found that they couldn't move. Upon turning around, they found that Wufei and Quatre had their shirts and didn't look like they'd give them up easily. Wufei let go of Heero's, and said very clearly-
"Go find him if you want, I don't care, just don't hurt him. You love him, that would be wrong." Quatre, in turn, let Trowa go. Except all he had to do was give him the abused puppy look (that's one level up from the 'sad puppy' look and he knew that the boy wouldn't try anything. Then he turned to Wufei.
"Are you ok? You defended *Duo* and slept so late today, and ... " Quatre stopped mid sentence and found himself edging far too close to Wufei's face. Blushing, he quickly pulled his head back before he did something rash and stepped back a few feet, "Um, I mean, um, I'll talk to you later." And he ran out. Wufei, who felt anything but good at the moment, bowed his head and dropped back onto his bed.
"Why didn't I just trust my instincts? Why?" He fell backwards and picked up the rose from it's place on the bed side table next to its bed. When he smelled it, his dream of Meiran came back to him. He allowed a few tears to fell before wiping his face and clutching the rose to his chest. Amazingly, it didn't prick him, despite the fact that it had thorns. "I'm trying Meiran ... I'm trying as hard as I can." At that, he stood up and wiped his face again. Closing the door behind him, he had only one thing on his mind. 'I must find a vase! That's all I need, a vase!'
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
22 reviews! Yippee! I *never* thought I'd get this many! Thanks to:
Mara Jade, Chang-Meiling, and (who would have guessed) Lacey-koi! Thanks a billion or so, to those of you that have a 121,345th sense (heh!). Don't ask. Anyway, I'll try to update soon, but I'm *loaded* with shit from school. and I HATE IT!!!!! *takes deep breath* Calm ... like the ocean, 'Star, like the ocean! Anyway, until the next time I update, keep reading my stuff and reviewing it!