AN: Woo! The first chapter! XD!! I really like this fic in my mind, and since receiving fast encouragement (Three reviews in one night...
I think that's a new record for me.) I am continuing on it now. (My other fics are on standby, as once again inspiration has not yet bit
my ass yet. -_-;;) Anyhoo, the daily life of Watari! What pairing is this gonna be? I'm a big fan of Tsuzuki/Watari (No one really likes
that pairing! Why not? It's cute!) so it'll probably be that. Yeah, if you stop reading now, I don't blame you. *Gets trampled by the
Tsuzuki/Hisoka supporters* @_@ Ugha...I think I've broken something vital...anyhoo, so onto the real fic! It's pretty light-hearted until
the end, so yeah. I think this is the longest author notes I've ever written...-_-;; Warning: I wax long and poetic about Watari's morning
routine. Be warned. Oh yeah, I'm not sure if you see Watari's lab during any time, so I'm making up the description of it. It's my vision of
his lab.
Chapter One
Beep. Beep. Beep.
A grumble came from a mass of tangled sheets and golden hair. The monstrosity shifted, and soon after a head popped out, glaring impartially
at the world with golden-brown eyes.
Watari *really* didn't want to get out of bed. His freakish dream (Which by now he couldn't even remember)
had kept him up for an hour, and he had finally fallen back to sleep about an hour ago. He was normally a morning person, but now Watari just
flopped back down and contemplated the consequences of being late to the office. Tsuzuki was usually late, and Tatsumi usually let it go. But
then again, it was Tsuzuki, no one could truly stay angry at some one so happy, and Watari didn't think he had the gengkiness to pull that off
this time. So if he was late, the would be Dire Consequences.
Sighing, he hauled himself out of the warm covers and stumbled for the bathroom, grabbing some clothes that looked like they matched along the way.
He stripped himself of his nightclothes unceremoniously, and turned the shower on at full blast and nearly scalding. Ah, just the way he liked it.
He stepped into the heated spray and let the water wash over him. Showers were great. He stood enjoying it, wetting down his hair and reveling
in the feel.
After a few minutes of simply standing, he made a face and turned to the tricky task of washing his hair. He glopped out a generous
amount of his favorite shampoo (Apple and strawberry scented) and lathered it in. After making sure it was all lathered (a good ten minutes) he rinsed
it and picked up the bottle again. Shaking it, he frowned. He really must remember to buy more today, or tomorrow would be hell. He hated his hair
being unclean. It was a hassle, but he liked it. Dumping the reamining contains on his tresses, Watari finished with his daily hygiene ritual. He
gave his body a good brief scrub and stepped out of the shower, lamenting the loss of heat. Turning to his sink, he bushed his teeth and washed his face
a little better. Watari put on his clothes and finally walked out of the bathroom, a good hour after he started.[1]
"Ahh, now I feel awake!" Watari felt his smile and genkiness return, and hummed as he picked up his brush. Running it through the long tresses, Watari
carefully detangled the wet golden mass. He frowned as he came to a particularly bad snangle and had to pull hard to get it undone, losing a few hairs along
the way. It took a good twenty minutes to get the hair brushed, and by that time his brush looked like it had a run-in with a hay bale. Placing the brush
down, he grabbed his favorite hair ribbon (A nice long black one made of silk) and tied it in it's customary position around his hair at neck level. Feeling
much better and definately more genki, Watari summoned 003 to his shoulder and fairly skipped off to work.
when he got there, Tatsumi was starting in on some files that he had left the day before. The Secretary of Death (As Tsuzuki and Watari secretly called him)
gave the genki scientist a slight glare before returning to the rather intimidating pile of paper. Tatsumi's hair was frazzled, and the slight glaze in his
eyes told Watari that obviously Mr. Secretary hadn't had much sleep the night before. He shoved aside the pang of sympathy and waved to Tatsumi and skipped
down the hall towards his lab, ignoring the hot glare given to morning people by those who are not.
The lab, as always, gave one a feel of organized chaos. Papers and supplies littered the desktops in seemingly random patterns. Watari sweatdropped. He'd
forgotten to clean up his lab, again. That was the...fourth month in a row where the lab had gone unorganized. But Watari liked it this way. He may be a
doctor and scientist, but he wasn't exactly neat. It didn't matter. It was his lab, and he knew where everything was, so it was okay.
Shoving aside a pile of month-old notes, Watari reached across his desk and clicked on the computer. Imagine, computers in the afterlife. No scrolls, no
angels with trumpets announcing names, just computers and file cabinets. Watari chuckled as he shuffled through the remnants of last night's work. He winced
as a paper with a rather suspicious-looking green goo in a beaker on top fell off his, ahem, "workstation" (Tatsumi called it the "Disaster Area." At least it wasn't
as bad as Tsuzuki's room...) and landed on the floor.
"I'm going to have to clean that up..." Watari eyed the paper and substance with distaste. "Maybe I can get a Gushousin to do it..."
Carefully avoiding the puddle, Watari made his way to the door. Looking out, he watched for anybody.
"Damn...no flying clothed chickens in sight. I guess I have to do it.[2]" Wrinkling his nose, he headed back into his lab and headed for the broom closet.
Pulling out the mop, Watari prepared to mop up the mess. Just as he touched the goo with the mop, a sense of deja vu swept over him-
-"...Honestly, Watari, why can't you be more careful, you little demon"-
-and Watari suddenly couldn't breath. It was as if his lungs were full of dust. He collapsed to the floor, coughing and wheezing as he forced air into his lungs.
After it had subsided, he lay on the floor, shaken. he hadn't the strength to get up just yet, and if he did, he would fall right back down. He didn't think his
legs would support him. So he lay feebly stretched on the floor, breathing harshly. What had that been? It was as if it were a flash of memory, or a dream long
forgotten. But memory was impossible. Watari remembered nothing of before he died. This was an old mystery in the Enmachou. Nothing made Watari remember, not
even extensive memory therapy magic to the point of almost wiping him out. So it was impossible that simply mopping up a spill would make Watari remember. Right?
Watari shivered as breath seemed to run across his ear, almost like a lover's whisper.
"We all fall down..."
"Dear Watari-kun..."
~TBC~
AN: Ha! Cliffhanger! XP! Next part out soon! (I actually have motivation for this fic!) Reviews? Flames? Chocolate-covered bishie?
Notes:
[1]Yes, it takes that long. My friend has long thick hair too, and her showers are all 45minutes-1 hour long.
[2]Come on, he's not afraid to touch strange substances. He's already dead.
I think that's a new record for me.) I am continuing on it now. (My other fics are on standby, as once again inspiration has not yet bit
my ass yet. -_-;;) Anyhoo, the daily life of Watari! What pairing is this gonna be? I'm a big fan of Tsuzuki/Watari (No one really likes
that pairing! Why not? It's cute!) so it'll probably be that. Yeah, if you stop reading now, I don't blame you. *Gets trampled by the
Tsuzuki/Hisoka supporters* @_@ Ugha...I think I've broken something vital...anyhoo, so onto the real fic! It's pretty light-hearted until
the end, so yeah. I think this is the longest author notes I've ever written...-_-;; Warning: I wax long and poetic about Watari's morning
routine. Be warned. Oh yeah, I'm not sure if you see Watari's lab during any time, so I'm making up the description of it. It's my vision of
his lab.
Chapter One
Beep. Beep. Beep.
A grumble came from a mass of tangled sheets and golden hair. The monstrosity shifted, and soon after a head popped out, glaring impartially
at the world with golden-brown eyes.
Watari *really* didn't want to get out of bed. His freakish dream (Which by now he couldn't even remember)
had kept him up for an hour, and he had finally fallen back to sleep about an hour ago. He was normally a morning person, but now Watari just
flopped back down and contemplated the consequences of being late to the office. Tsuzuki was usually late, and Tatsumi usually let it go. But
then again, it was Tsuzuki, no one could truly stay angry at some one so happy, and Watari didn't think he had the gengkiness to pull that off
this time. So if he was late, the would be Dire Consequences.
Sighing, he hauled himself out of the warm covers and stumbled for the bathroom, grabbing some clothes that looked like they matched along the way.
He stripped himself of his nightclothes unceremoniously, and turned the shower on at full blast and nearly scalding. Ah, just the way he liked it.
He stepped into the heated spray and let the water wash over him. Showers were great. He stood enjoying it, wetting down his hair and reveling
in the feel.
After a few minutes of simply standing, he made a face and turned to the tricky task of washing his hair. He glopped out a generous
amount of his favorite shampoo (Apple and strawberry scented) and lathered it in. After making sure it was all lathered (a good ten minutes) he rinsed
it and picked up the bottle again. Shaking it, he frowned. He really must remember to buy more today, or tomorrow would be hell. He hated his hair
being unclean. It was a hassle, but he liked it. Dumping the reamining contains on his tresses, Watari finished with his daily hygiene ritual. He
gave his body a good brief scrub and stepped out of the shower, lamenting the loss of heat. Turning to his sink, he bushed his teeth and washed his face
a little better. Watari put on his clothes and finally walked out of the bathroom, a good hour after he started.[1]
"Ahh, now I feel awake!" Watari felt his smile and genkiness return, and hummed as he picked up his brush. Running it through the long tresses, Watari
carefully detangled the wet golden mass. He frowned as he came to a particularly bad snangle and had to pull hard to get it undone, losing a few hairs along
the way. It took a good twenty minutes to get the hair brushed, and by that time his brush looked like it had a run-in with a hay bale. Placing the brush
down, he grabbed his favorite hair ribbon (A nice long black one made of silk) and tied it in it's customary position around his hair at neck level. Feeling
much better and definately more genki, Watari summoned 003 to his shoulder and fairly skipped off to work.
when he got there, Tatsumi was starting in on some files that he had left the day before. The Secretary of Death (As Tsuzuki and Watari secretly called him)
gave the genki scientist a slight glare before returning to the rather intimidating pile of paper. Tatsumi's hair was frazzled, and the slight glaze in his
eyes told Watari that obviously Mr. Secretary hadn't had much sleep the night before. He shoved aside the pang of sympathy and waved to Tatsumi and skipped
down the hall towards his lab, ignoring the hot glare given to morning people by those who are not.
The lab, as always, gave one a feel of organized chaos. Papers and supplies littered the desktops in seemingly random patterns. Watari sweatdropped. He'd
forgotten to clean up his lab, again. That was the...fourth month in a row where the lab had gone unorganized. But Watari liked it this way. He may be a
doctor and scientist, but he wasn't exactly neat. It didn't matter. It was his lab, and he knew where everything was, so it was okay.
Shoving aside a pile of month-old notes, Watari reached across his desk and clicked on the computer. Imagine, computers in the afterlife. No scrolls, no
angels with trumpets announcing names, just computers and file cabinets. Watari chuckled as he shuffled through the remnants of last night's work. He winced
as a paper with a rather suspicious-looking green goo in a beaker on top fell off his, ahem, "workstation" (Tatsumi called it the "Disaster Area." At least it wasn't
as bad as Tsuzuki's room...) and landed on the floor.
"I'm going to have to clean that up..." Watari eyed the paper and substance with distaste. "Maybe I can get a Gushousin to do it..."
Carefully avoiding the puddle, Watari made his way to the door. Looking out, he watched for anybody.
"Damn...no flying clothed chickens in sight. I guess I have to do it.[2]" Wrinkling his nose, he headed back into his lab and headed for the broom closet.
Pulling out the mop, Watari prepared to mop up the mess. Just as he touched the goo with the mop, a sense of deja vu swept over him-
-"...Honestly, Watari, why can't you be more careful, you little demon"-
-and Watari suddenly couldn't breath. It was as if his lungs were full of dust. He collapsed to the floor, coughing and wheezing as he forced air into his lungs.
After it had subsided, he lay on the floor, shaken. he hadn't the strength to get up just yet, and if he did, he would fall right back down. He didn't think his
legs would support him. So he lay feebly stretched on the floor, breathing harshly. What had that been? It was as if it were a flash of memory, or a dream long
forgotten. But memory was impossible. Watari remembered nothing of before he died. This was an old mystery in the Enmachou. Nothing made Watari remember, not
even extensive memory therapy magic to the point of almost wiping him out. So it was impossible that simply mopping up a spill would make Watari remember. Right?
Watari shivered as breath seemed to run across his ear, almost like a lover's whisper.
"We all fall down..."
"Dear Watari-kun..."
~TBC~
AN: Ha! Cliffhanger! XP! Next part out soon! (I actually have motivation for this fic!) Reviews? Flames? Chocolate-covered bishie?
Notes:
[1]Yes, it takes that long. My friend has long thick hair too, and her showers are all 45minutes-1 hour long.
[2]Come on, he's not afraid to touch strange substances. He's already dead.
