Okonomiyaki for everyone! (Especially Zuu-kun)
Ukyo Kuonji slammed the phone down. She didn't understand what the American had said, not all of it at least, but she knew that it was during a long and important business discussion.
"Huh," she noted as she recalled Ryoga's arguments from the conversation. "Speaking so much American made his voice a lot higher."
The door chimed. She turned towards her customers. Shampoo and some strange red haired girl were holding a black t-shirt and staring as if it were the key to human existence. A short but incredibly attractive man was carrying another man, unconscious. The other man looked like an oddly handsome cross between European and Korean, but somehow he tended to avoid being either with the barest hints of something not so easily place. A third man, hair tied in a ponytail to his mid-back, eyes glaring. And the forth, a young man with shoulder-length hair who skipped into the restaurant holding a plate of ramen in one hand, chopsticks in the other and spinning midair to a seat in front of the grill.
"One of each kind of okonomiyaki you got, three cups of green tea, extra bonito shavings on the okonomiyaki and heavy on the sauce, and uh. Youse guys want anything?"
The others didn't notice. The short one propped the unconscious one into a stool, the long-haired one sat down as well, but laid his cheek into his palm and sighed. The two women stared at the shirt some more.
"Kay. Just me then. O-ko-no-mi-ya-kii! O-ko-no-mi-ya-kii! I love it, love it, love it, o-ko-no-mi-ya-kii!" he chanted, hitting his chopsticks softly on the table. Ukyo threw sake in the unconscious man's face, and he moaned.
"I'll make yours now," she said sweetly as she oiled the grill. The hyper boy smiled.
The phone rang. "Ma'am?" the hyper boy asked. She threw his noodles on the grill. "Ma'am?" he said as it rang again.
The women sat down, the phone rang, the boy asked for her again. After the forth ring, he got up and answered it himself.
"No, dis isn' Ucchan. Zûnni da. Zuu-Len. Zunni Kashi Shintoyoki. Zuu- kun de. No Da."
A pause. "I dunno man. I just answered the phone because the lady behind the grill wasn't picking up." Another pause. "Yes, I said lady. Well, she smells like one. No, I agree, she lookie like a man, which is weird because she looks like a really hot guy, No! I ain't gay, I can just admit when a guy looks half-way decent, ya? Dude. Dude, I ain't gay. No way. I don't fuck guys, man, that's my little brother's world. Hey, call me that again. Yeah. Whaddaya mean, 'What the hell can you do to me over the phone'? I got a pal here who just turned three dudes into children by blinking. Say that again, bastid? Yeah, ya heard me. Oh yeah? Oh yeah? Well, then, how much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood? Oh? Really? Answer the damn question, hot shot." A long pause.
"Really? I never though of that. Three and a half pounds daily, huh? Makes sense. 'Kay then. Bye-bye." And Zunni hung up.
"I am still the champion of completely confusing my way out of arguments," Zuu declared proudly.
"Looks t me li he beat ya, so ya gave up n hung up."
"You know full well how many more I had to play, Rho."
The phone rang again. "'Lo?" Zuu called in English. Another pause. "No, don't worry, this is in Japan," he answered in English. The guy continued. "Nope, sorry, man, I only speak Japanese." The phone guy yelled, and it was enough to tell it was English but not enough to tell what he was saying.
"Yeah, I know this is an important call but I can't connect you because I only speak Japanese." The phone guy yelled even louder, "Then listen to me NOW!!" in Japanese.
"Dude. That's not cool. That ain't Japanese. That's Italian. ¿Tú hablas Español?"
The other end was a fury of curses in both English and Japanese, and Zuu merely smiled. "Sorry, man, I'm dead serious about that Japanese thing. Call back later, I'm all alone right now and none of the others here speaks what you speak. Yeah. I'm all alone, and no one else in this room speaks that. As in no one here who speaks anything but Japanese. Well, you're not. No, that's not. Dude, just shut up, I'm from Okinawa, I know what Japanese sounds like. Yeah, Okinawa. Right. Okay then. Get the picture? Jesus fucking Christ. Yeah. Right. Later." And again Zuu hung up.
It rang again. "Ucchan's Okonomiyaki, how may I help you?" he sang onto the phone. "I'm sorry, but what do you mean my voice sounds a little familiar? Yes, this really is Ucchan's Okonomiyaki. Uh-huh. Ooh. Really? A partnership, ooh, flirting with the owner lady- I dunno, man, she looks pretty damn hot ta me! Yaiiii!" He clicked his tongue into the phone for emphasis. "Oh? Sexy lil' American now, huh? Mr. Big-shot, eh? Flirting with the owner lady, gettin' hot tonight! Mm, ye-ah, Baby! She doesn't wanna talk to you. No, she doesn't. I think I will. Because you asked me to. 'Ey, Ucchan? D'ya wanna talk to a 'Hibiki Ryoga-San'?"
"Give me the phone," she ordered, sliding his okonomiyaki onto a plate. Zunni did a neat little kick onto the counter, one leg one side of the grill and the other on the other, holding the phone to his ear with one hand and using the other to spear his pastry with his chopsticks.
"Nah, he says he don' wanna talk ta ya no more. No, sorry, Hibiki- san, she don' wanna talk ta ya. Damn your name's familiar."
Ukyo grabbed at the phone, but Zunni hopped up into the beams of the ceiling and wrapped his legs around one, hanging upside down. "No, sorry, Hibiki-kun, may I call you kun, no, sorry then, Hibiki-kun, she don't wanna talk ta ya. Get down girl, he says you're not his type anyway and he dialed a wrong number, no Hibiki-kun, she don't love ya."
"This isn't about love!" Ukyo screamed. "Funny, he said that at the exact same time, I think there's some really chemistry in this relationship." Toby smacked him.
"Oi!" Zuu held the spot, nursing it. Toby took the phone and handed it to Ukyo.
"Ryoga and I are considering a business partnership, that's all. And we're discussing the terms of dual-management agreement."
Zunni nodded, biting his lower lip. "I like pie," he added, taking a bite of his okonomiyaki. "But this is good. This is not pie."
"Sorry, Ryoga, some idiot customer kept tying up the phone- yeah, all three times. Yeah. I say more than that. Look, Ryoga-honey, you're not giving me enough for this to work out- Well, maybe if you give a little more, this could be a successful pairing. Fine, than don't donate more money into this, donate more work. Ryoga-honey, this is my baby we're talking about. Yeah. And you want to share this responsibility, take some responsibility. Don't just try to take my baby from me- It's not getting your name unless you work right. Well, you sure haven't been performing as well as you could be!"
Zuu whistled. "Sounds like a steamy relationship to me, should you be talking about your sexual problems around the customers?"
"Shut up," she ordered, shoving another hot okonomiyaki into his mouth, which he happily and stupidly gobbled up.
Ukyo Kuonji slammed the phone down. She didn't understand what the American had said, not all of it at least, but she knew that it was during a long and important business discussion.
"Huh," she noted as she recalled Ryoga's arguments from the conversation. "Speaking so much American made his voice a lot higher."
The door chimed. She turned towards her customers. Shampoo and some strange red haired girl were holding a black t-shirt and staring as if it were the key to human existence. A short but incredibly attractive man was carrying another man, unconscious. The other man looked like an oddly handsome cross between European and Korean, but somehow he tended to avoid being either with the barest hints of something not so easily place. A third man, hair tied in a ponytail to his mid-back, eyes glaring. And the forth, a young man with shoulder-length hair who skipped into the restaurant holding a plate of ramen in one hand, chopsticks in the other and spinning midair to a seat in front of the grill.
"One of each kind of okonomiyaki you got, three cups of green tea, extra bonito shavings on the okonomiyaki and heavy on the sauce, and uh. Youse guys want anything?"
The others didn't notice. The short one propped the unconscious one into a stool, the long-haired one sat down as well, but laid his cheek into his palm and sighed. The two women stared at the shirt some more.
"Kay. Just me then. O-ko-no-mi-ya-kii! O-ko-no-mi-ya-kii! I love it, love it, love it, o-ko-no-mi-ya-kii!" he chanted, hitting his chopsticks softly on the table. Ukyo threw sake in the unconscious man's face, and he moaned.
"I'll make yours now," she said sweetly as she oiled the grill. The hyper boy smiled.
The phone rang. "Ma'am?" the hyper boy asked. She threw his noodles on the grill. "Ma'am?" he said as it rang again.
The women sat down, the phone rang, the boy asked for her again. After the forth ring, he got up and answered it himself.
"No, dis isn' Ucchan. Zûnni da. Zuu-Len. Zunni Kashi Shintoyoki. Zuu- kun de. No Da."
A pause. "I dunno man. I just answered the phone because the lady behind the grill wasn't picking up." Another pause. "Yes, I said lady. Well, she smells like one. No, I agree, she lookie like a man, which is weird because she looks like a really hot guy, No! I ain't gay, I can just admit when a guy looks half-way decent, ya? Dude. Dude, I ain't gay. No way. I don't fuck guys, man, that's my little brother's world. Hey, call me that again. Yeah. Whaddaya mean, 'What the hell can you do to me over the phone'? I got a pal here who just turned three dudes into children by blinking. Say that again, bastid? Yeah, ya heard me. Oh yeah? Oh yeah? Well, then, how much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood? Oh? Really? Answer the damn question, hot shot." A long pause.
"Really? I never though of that. Three and a half pounds daily, huh? Makes sense. 'Kay then. Bye-bye." And Zunni hung up.
"I am still the champion of completely confusing my way out of arguments," Zuu declared proudly.
"Looks t me li he beat ya, so ya gave up n hung up."
"You know full well how many more I had to play, Rho."
The phone rang again. "'Lo?" Zuu called in English. Another pause. "No, don't worry, this is in Japan," he answered in English. The guy continued. "Nope, sorry, man, I only speak Japanese." The phone guy yelled, and it was enough to tell it was English but not enough to tell what he was saying.
"Yeah, I know this is an important call but I can't connect you because I only speak Japanese." The phone guy yelled even louder, "Then listen to me NOW!!" in Japanese.
"Dude. That's not cool. That ain't Japanese. That's Italian. ¿Tú hablas Español?"
The other end was a fury of curses in both English and Japanese, and Zuu merely smiled. "Sorry, man, I'm dead serious about that Japanese thing. Call back later, I'm all alone right now and none of the others here speaks what you speak. Yeah. I'm all alone, and no one else in this room speaks that. As in no one here who speaks anything but Japanese. Well, you're not. No, that's not. Dude, just shut up, I'm from Okinawa, I know what Japanese sounds like. Yeah, Okinawa. Right. Okay then. Get the picture? Jesus fucking Christ. Yeah. Right. Later." And again Zuu hung up.
It rang again. "Ucchan's Okonomiyaki, how may I help you?" he sang onto the phone. "I'm sorry, but what do you mean my voice sounds a little familiar? Yes, this really is Ucchan's Okonomiyaki. Uh-huh. Ooh. Really? A partnership, ooh, flirting with the owner lady- I dunno, man, she looks pretty damn hot ta me! Yaiiii!" He clicked his tongue into the phone for emphasis. "Oh? Sexy lil' American now, huh? Mr. Big-shot, eh? Flirting with the owner lady, gettin' hot tonight! Mm, ye-ah, Baby! She doesn't wanna talk to you. No, she doesn't. I think I will. Because you asked me to. 'Ey, Ucchan? D'ya wanna talk to a 'Hibiki Ryoga-San'?"
"Give me the phone," she ordered, sliding his okonomiyaki onto a plate. Zunni did a neat little kick onto the counter, one leg one side of the grill and the other on the other, holding the phone to his ear with one hand and using the other to spear his pastry with his chopsticks.
"Nah, he says he don' wanna talk ta ya no more. No, sorry, Hibiki- san, she don' wanna talk ta ya. Damn your name's familiar."
Ukyo grabbed at the phone, but Zunni hopped up into the beams of the ceiling and wrapped his legs around one, hanging upside down. "No, sorry, Hibiki-kun, may I call you kun, no, sorry then, Hibiki-kun, she don't wanna talk ta ya. Get down girl, he says you're not his type anyway and he dialed a wrong number, no Hibiki-kun, she don't love ya."
"This isn't about love!" Ukyo screamed. "Funny, he said that at the exact same time, I think there's some really chemistry in this relationship." Toby smacked him.
"Oi!" Zuu held the spot, nursing it. Toby took the phone and handed it to Ukyo.
"Ryoga and I are considering a business partnership, that's all. And we're discussing the terms of dual-management agreement."
Zunni nodded, biting his lower lip. "I like pie," he added, taking a bite of his okonomiyaki. "But this is good. This is not pie."
"Sorry, Ryoga, some idiot customer kept tying up the phone- yeah, all three times. Yeah. I say more than that. Look, Ryoga-honey, you're not giving me enough for this to work out- Well, maybe if you give a little more, this could be a successful pairing. Fine, than don't donate more money into this, donate more work. Ryoga-honey, this is my baby we're talking about. Yeah. And you want to share this responsibility, take some responsibility. Don't just try to take my baby from me- It's not getting your name unless you work right. Well, you sure haven't been performing as well as you could be!"
Zuu whistled. "Sounds like a steamy relationship to me, should you be talking about your sexual problems around the customers?"
"Shut up," she ordered, shoving another hot okonomiyaki into his mouth, which he happily and stupidly gobbled up.