Rura: Shut up, Mari! X_@ Noooo! My brain! Stop cursing my brain with IMAGES! *dies*
Rei: *pokes Rura* Nee-chan? *blinku*
Rura: *dead*
Rei: Oh well. ^^ I get to write the whole ficcy... yay... um...
Rura: *fine. not dead*
A/N
Rei: Anyhoo, so we're going to present
to you...angst...thats what it is. Angst...and...angst. And more angst.
Dont you just luuuuuuv the angst? Angst is good for the soul...or is it
bad? I dont know. Anyway, here is joyful misery for you to feast on! YAY!
Come see the glory! Bathe in it goddamn it!
This is going to have...multiple
chapters. All with ever-increasing sadness, death, sexual frustration,
and a serious lack of pineapples. WHEEE!!!
Okay, well might as well just get on with it. We've got to get something done, or we'll probably never start.
Rura: Don't listen to her. Listen to me. See? She does ANs wierd. Here's the PROPER way to do 'em X_@ the patented Rura way!
AN: Rei's yelling at me about how I shouldn't be writing this right now when this is the only thing that gets me into ficci mood... yep. *shh* Procrastination is the ultimate method. Use this knowledge well, young Padawan.
What? You wanna know how this fic got started? No you don't. Stop asking. If you must know a SMIDGEN (Dammit, Rei, why must you shut me up? Stop shaking that whip), it was our...idea-baby... after watching the end of Furuba. You know what? Rei's clicking lotion at me so I'm going to get going. Perhaps when I'm alone (what a surprise) I'll actually get some real yak in here. Don't worry, my inserted, cheap blog will come. *rolls eyes and wonders who actually reads them* Apparently Royce.
A Little Bitty Side Note: This story is only going to include characters from the anime! Which means no Rin or Surenu(o. not sure which it is.) Ryoei and Ikkoru will take their place as the horse and rooster Juunishi. So this is AU-ish. O.o; Live with it.
I'm Really Misunderstood
by Rei and Rura! We alternate. We
swear you won't notice.
Chapter 1~ Haru
"Haru."
I thought I heard someone
calling my name, but it could just be another old pervert trying to run
his hands down my thighs again, one of the regulars. If bars are usually
reserved for the young and the virtuous, then where are the young and the
virtuous? Just once, I'd like to see some fifteen-year-old, experimental
virgin sneak in here and order a Sex on the Beach.
"Haru!" the voice said again,
more insistently, breaking me out of my off-topic reverie. I turned abruptly,
ready to swat away callused and liver-spotted hands, but instead was met
with something much, much more pleasant: Momiji.
"Momiji-kun!" I chirrupped
happily. I was always glad when my blond friend visited me; somehow he
acted as a barrier between me and the old perverted farts in the corner,
as if signifying that I was in some sort of relationship, and somehow that
meant I was off-limits. Why doesn't this apply to females of the same job?
I mean--
I'm rambling again. Do I do
this often?
I put down my tray carrying
several Cruisers and a martini, and wrapped my arms around Momiji's narrow
shoulders. He'd grown in the past years since we'd met Tohru, into something
like the gorgeous schoolboy I'd conjured up for those schoolboard girls
that long while ago -- it seemed like eons. He'd shot up several inches,
though he was still shorter than I, and his curly golden locks had lengthened
some. Puberty had finally found him, I guess, after a long (and I suppose
tiring) quest.
He hugged back, tightly, and began
jumping around excitedly. Still the same Momiji, growth spurt or not. "Hi
Haru-Haru! How goes it?"
"It goes alright. Not exactly
having the best time at work...many freakish people lurk here...but, otherwise,
good."
"You look really nice in that
uniform, Haru!" he sqeauled. Ah yes. The bloody uniform. It basically consisted
of a black silk thong, and a ripped, black tank top with the bar logo on
it. Fake blood could be added if one were so inclined. If I were not currently
waiting tables, I would probably be wearing handcuffs or something.
"Um, thanks. Personally I
hate it, but...well whatever. So school's going okay or what? You've got
finals now, right?"
"Yeah!" Momiji said, still
somehow excited. "I failed my social studies final for sure, but that's
okay! Do you know anything about social studies? Maybe you can help me
when I retake the course."
"Well, Momiji, you know I
never really paid any attention when I was in school, and now that I'm
out, even if I had learned, I don't particurally care which American
president was stupid when."
"But we're not doing American history! That's stupid! We're studying World War II. Do you know
that the Americans blew up Hiroshima?" It seemed he really hadn't
known this. Considering we have a mutual grandparent who survived the bombings,
and was constantly rambling on about it, he should know. Then, it's not
like anyone paid attention to Grandpa Joji anyway.
"Yeah, I knew that. Anyway,
good luck with the class. Try not to fail again, okay?"
"Okeedokee, Haru-chaaaan!"
he giggled. You know what I think? Puberty does nothing to hyperactive
little kids except combine hyperacticity with a hormone overload, producing
severe perversion. Ohhh, geez. Mental picture of Momiji...umm... dear...
You know what, I'm tired of rambling. But... mental picture! It's that
pretty. It's sick (I shouldn't be picturing other boys, especially my BEST
FRIEND, whacking off no matter where I work!) but...okay, back to *twitch*
Momiji.
Momiji spun his bartstool
around, closing his eyes against the nausea. "You know, Haru-chan, we really
oughta visit Tohru... you know, considering where she works and all."
Ah yes. The martyr, Honda
Tohru. My eyes darkened seriously. "Yes. It's so terrible what she's been
reduced to..."
We chorused, "Working at McDonald's."
It was no laughing matter.
Tohru would get grease into her pores, which would result in horrible,
acidic, bubbling acne, which would result in a significant drop in her
ego, which would result in her marrying some jerk with an earring who would
turn out to be a drug dealer living in a trailer, which would result in
Tohru becoming a fat American hillbilly with 50 children...
It's not funny.
Really.
It's not.
Stop laughing!
"She's thinking of quitting,"
Momiji said. "But I don't think she will. You know Tohru-kun would never
desert her co-workers, as much as they deserve to burn in hell." Strong
words from Momiji.
"What?" I asked, raising my
eyebrow. "They're that bad? I mean I know the establishment is horrible, but surely the people can't be..."
"The last time I visited one
one of them almost shoved Tohru into a boiling vat of grease. If Uo hadn't
rescued her Tohru'd be dead by now."
"Oh dear God. Really? That
is bad."
"And they're always talking
about her behind her back. They call her rat-woman, and they're always
fawning over Yuki when he comes to visit. One of them is a member of his
old fan-club, see. Motoko something or another."
"Ah yes...that bitch. I remember
her. I beat the living shit out of her a while back. Not entirely sure
why now."
"She was bothering Yuki...remember?"
"Yes....yes. That was the
reason. Right." And I was sure it had been. After all, when word got around
to me that Yuki was being harrassed, I was usually right on it. But I have
to say, it did give me a certain amount of pleasure to hear her scream.
Whether it was sadistic or sexual I'm not sure. All I know is that I have
some very competing images in my brain, the latest of which is Yuki without
a speck of clothing on. Very pretty...but wrong. He's my cousin, and male.
But the Motoko thing was wrong too...
I am one very confused moo-cow.
"Anyways, so right, we should visit Tohru," I agreed. "It'll cheer her up to see you."
"And you too Haru-chan! She
likes you too, remember!"
"Yeah. But I'd just depress
her more. Even my job is better then hers."
"She doesn't know about your
job though. I didn't tell anyone, just like you asked."
"Thanks. Eh, Momiji, could
you hang on a sec? I really have to give these martinis to their rightful
owners, or I'll get fired. Be right back."
Very true; the party of middle-aged
businessmen were shouting indignantly about lack of service. I sighed,
rolled my eyes, and picked the tray up again. "Coming!" I called brightly,
and sidled my best sidle up to their table, where I was this close to sitting
in what seemed to be the leader of the group's lap. After all, I wanted
business to come back just as much as the owner; it was my job on the line.
I glanced at Momiji momentarily
as I passed out the drinks, rubbing my crotch subtlely against the main
guy's shoulder, and the little rabbit boy didn't look so very pleased.
If anything, he looked jealous! I didn't quite understand; did he want
to be me, standing in a black satin G-string and demoralizing himself?
I felt ashamed enough as it was.
After escaping groping hairy
hands with the promise that I'd come back and perform a special show for
them in the back room if they tipped extra well, I returned to the sulky-looking
Momiji.
"Momiji-kun, what's wrong?"
I asked, tipping his chin up delicately.
He frowned at me for a second,
then shook it off his features and grinned from ear to ear as usual. "Nothing,
Haru. I was just thinking about stuff."
"What stuff?" I asked, sitting
opposite him on a barstool with a cracked purple vinyl covering and leaning
in close. Some of the younger men hooted, though I wasn't sure at what.
Perhaps Kenjirou had finally returned from the bathroom, where he'd been
most likely applying mascara, the vain thing?
Momiji blushed. "Umm.. well..."
His eyes searched the air around my face. "Kagura. It's Kagura."
I sat back, blinking in surprise.
I hadn't heard from Kagura in a long time. "Oh. Is she alright?"
"Yeah, she's okay," Momiji
sighed. "But she's...well she's pregnant." He sighed. This was big news,
but for Momiji to worry so...was he the father or something?
"Well...wow. Kagura? Are you
sure? Is Kyou...?"
"No, Kyou's not the father,
or I think Kagura'd be a bit happier. I don't know who it is, but she said
it's someone in the family."
"Why wouldn't she tell you?"
"It's not really any of my
buisness, is it? I saw her walking around outside the Main House in tears,
so I asked her what was wrong. She said she's pregnant, and she's going
to go talk to the father. Of course I asked who it was, but all
she said was Souma, and then she went off somewhere,"
"Is she going to get an abortion
or something? Because I dont think Hatori knows how to do those. She'd
have to go to some other doctor."
"I don't know."
"Momiji...you're not the father,
are you? You can tell me."
Momiji's eyes widened, and
then he burst out laughing. "Me? You think I'm the father?
Haru-chaaaaan, you're so silly! Kagura's like my big sister, there's
nothing between us at all! Besides..."
"What?" He looked so nervous,
behind the laugh. I wanted to ask if he was okay, but I couldn't.
He was trying too hard to pretend he was.
"Nothing," Momiji said, starting
to yawn. He looked tired, he had bags under his eyes and things.
"Momiji...have you been sleeping
much lately? You look exhausted." This much, at least, I could ask.
"Oh...not much lately. It's
been pretty loud at night lately. Akito's up screaming all night, so it's
hard to fall asleep."
"Is he...disciplining anyone?"
"No...he just...screams a
lot...and cries. He's in a lot of pain."
"Oh...what's wrong with him?"
"Who knows? But Hatori keeps
going in with medicine, and Akito's just screaming and screaming."
"Maybe you ought to move to
another room. One farther away from Akito."
"Probably."
For a minute or so, there
was uncomfortable silence.
"Um... so, Momiji," I tried,
"have you got a girlfriend or anything? Tell me about you."
Momiji flushed bright red,
mumbled a quick, "No," and ran to the bathroom.
I sat alone and confused for
a moment, blinking cowishly as usual, until someone yelled, "'Ey! Thong-boy!
Over here, three Bloody Marys and a Virgin!"
Rei: Okay, so that was our introduction thingy. Not so much angst it that one, but a bit. ^^ Be prepared to DROWN in sorrow and misery! MWA HA HA!!! Anyway, please review, and we hope you'll be back for the next chapter! Byeee! ^_^