Part II
On deck: As always Koji had shown up a few hours early, which he however used to get acquainted with the actresses. As Izumi eventually arrived the wayward rock-star was surrounded by half-naked females, dozens of visiting cards in his hands. Pouting the soccer player sat down in one of the deckchairs and wished for the umpteenths time that he had brought his soccer ball – or at least a frying pan – along. As Koji joined him a few minutes later – he had told the girls that he had a brother who looked exactly like him and who was waiting in his cabin – Izumi's listlessness had long since turned into fury.
"Get lost, idiot! I don't want to see your hentai drawings!"
"Hentai drawings? I am here to prove my love for you and maybe have a little fun."
"But weren't you supposed to show me some, well ... drawings?"
"I only have these."
Koji held up the paper clips with the phone numbers, which turned out to be a mistake as Izumi grabbed them and threw them into the sea.
"You're really a very talented artist, Mr. Nanjo. Now get off my deck, I need the space to train."
"Hey, wait a sec! We should at least say the rest of our text!"
Grumbling, Izumi agreed and in the next few minutes everything actually seemed to proceed according to the script.
"Blahblahblah, to spit like a man - that's ridiculous, my spitting is perfectly fine – blahblahblah, to chew tobacco like a man – and that after even one cigarette made me sick – blahblahblah, to ride like a man-"
"Sure! Here and now, if you want to!"
Mere seconds later a cursing Izumi went back into his suite. From under a physically impossible looking mount of deck chairs a weak moan emerged.
Later Koji plundered the buffet in the near empty dining room, telling himself that if he had to go and see his murderous beloved he might as well do so with a full stomach. After all there was no guarantee he's still be able to eat afterwards. The singers worries were unfounded as Izumi, whom somebody had forced into a corset and high-heels, could barely walk, let alone hurt somebody. He even had to accept Hirose's help to as much as get down the stairs. A sourly smile on his face, the soccer player finally sat down next to Koji and asked if he could at least get tea and a salad – his trainer had suggested a diet and he wasn't allowed anything else after noon. In the meanwhile Koji had discovered that Izumi's dress had zippers in the most convenient places and was now shamelessly exploiting this knowledge. Though some of the others were wondering why Izumi kept squirming in his chair and barely touched his specially prepared food, they let Koji and his endless monologues distract them.
To Izumi's relief the meal was at some point over and the other pulled his thoroughly battered hand out of his pants. As he realized Koji had slipped a piece of paper saying "make-out session in half an hour at my place" into his underwear the wayward rock-star was long gone. Too bad. He'd have loved to find out whether the table was as solid as it looked. Well, that guy was entitled for the tongue-lashing of his life! That 'make-out session' would be something to remember!! Remember just in time that the script said something about dancing, the boy went back upstairs to fetch his Nikes and make sure Koji hadn't changed his mind and was waiting for him in his own bed. He'd just dress that jerk down for all it was worth; then get into bed early to save his strength for the first match of the next soccer season.
As Izumi entered the great hall of the third class an unpleasant surprise was awaiting him. Nobody was there. Confused, the soccer player started to search the festivities he had been anticipating. Not even Koji was anywhere in sight and usually he couldn't even turn around without tripping over that idiot. Things were getting really creepy. Every moment expecting an attack, the frightened boy move up the deserted floor until he finally heard calls for help from several of the locked rooms. Apparently somebody had locked all the actors and the rest of the staff into empty props rooms. But who would do such a thing? And why? Finally he found a door that wasn't locked and Izumi, who as we all no isn't the cleverest person in such situations, immediately opened it.
"Izumi! Finally you are here! I was already thinking that you'd got lost on the way."
Within the split of a second a confused Izumi found himself on the king- sized bed, the only escape route – the door – blocked by Koji's heavy body. What in the name of God was going on?! This couldn't possibly be a Third Class cabin! As always unaware of the danger he was in, Izumi started to ask the questions that had been on his mind all along.
"What is going on? Did they change the script again? Where are the Irish folk songs? Where are the dancers? At least I hope now I won't have to do that ridiculous ballet thing..."
"Oh, don't be sad, love – I'll make you forget all about it."
Slowly even Izumi caught up with the situation however by now escape was next to impossible. Then Koji's warm lips were pressed onto his and his hands roamed the bronze-skinned youth's slender body. Things would have ended badly for our poor soccer player had not Hirose sent Kurauchi to obtain the recipe for the shrimp cocktail that he had had yesterday at an after show party at Izumi's place. And now Kurauchi was standing in front of the door through which he could hear the voice of the boy and though he felt uncomfortable about intruding into what wqas obviously private moment he didn't want to keep his beloved Hirose-sama waiting. He entered, the fact that the door had been locked, only a minor obstacle.
Izumi, who realized that now the escape route was free, shoved Koji away, the latter staring unbelieving at the intruder. Using one hand to hold his torn dress together, Izumi rushed past Kurauchi before he had a chance to voice his request. Once Koji got a grip on himself the room was deserted. Bereft of the chance to beat up the impertinent guy who had dared to interrupt his seducing of his Izumi – he knew he had seen him before but couldn't quite place him – the forlorn rock-star called after his beloved.
"Izumi, don't run away! This is a ship – you can't escape me anyway!"
After that he was quite busy escaping the angry mob Izumi had released from his prison.
On deck: As always Koji had shown up a few hours early, which he however used to get acquainted with the actresses. As Izumi eventually arrived the wayward rock-star was surrounded by half-naked females, dozens of visiting cards in his hands. Pouting the soccer player sat down in one of the deckchairs and wished for the umpteenths time that he had brought his soccer ball – or at least a frying pan – along. As Koji joined him a few minutes later – he had told the girls that he had a brother who looked exactly like him and who was waiting in his cabin – Izumi's listlessness had long since turned into fury.
"Get lost, idiot! I don't want to see your hentai drawings!"
"Hentai drawings? I am here to prove my love for you and maybe have a little fun."
"But weren't you supposed to show me some, well ... drawings?"
"I only have these."
Koji held up the paper clips with the phone numbers, which turned out to be a mistake as Izumi grabbed them and threw them into the sea.
"You're really a very talented artist, Mr. Nanjo. Now get off my deck, I need the space to train."
"Hey, wait a sec! We should at least say the rest of our text!"
Grumbling, Izumi agreed and in the next few minutes everything actually seemed to proceed according to the script.
"Blahblahblah, to spit like a man - that's ridiculous, my spitting is perfectly fine – blahblahblah, to chew tobacco like a man – and that after even one cigarette made me sick – blahblahblah, to ride like a man-"
"Sure! Here and now, if you want to!"
Mere seconds later a cursing Izumi went back into his suite. From under a physically impossible looking mount of deck chairs a weak moan emerged.
Later Koji plundered the buffet in the near empty dining room, telling himself that if he had to go and see his murderous beloved he might as well do so with a full stomach. After all there was no guarantee he's still be able to eat afterwards. The singers worries were unfounded as Izumi, whom somebody had forced into a corset and high-heels, could barely walk, let alone hurt somebody. He even had to accept Hirose's help to as much as get down the stairs. A sourly smile on his face, the soccer player finally sat down next to Koji and asked if he could at least get tea and a salad – his trainer had suggested a diet and he wasn't allowed anything else after noon. In the meanwhile Koji had discovered that Izumi's dress had zippers in the most convenient places and was now shamelessly exploiting this knowledge. Though some of the others were wondering why Izumi kept squirming in his chair and barely touched his specially prepared food, they let Koji and his endless monologues distract them.
To Izumi's relief the meal was at some point over and the other pulled his thoroughly battered hand out of his pants. As he realized Koji had slipped a piece of paper saying "make-out session in half an hour at my place" into his underwear the wayward rock-star was long gone. Too bad. He'd have loved to find out whether the table was as solid as it looked. Well, that guy was entitled for the tongue-lashing of his life! That 'make-out session' would be something to remember!! Remember just in time that the script said something about dancing, the boy went back upstairs to fetch his Nikes and make sure Koji hadn't changed his mind and was waiting for him in his own bed. He'd just dress that jerk down for all it was worth; then get into bed early to save his strength for the first match of the next soccer season.
As Izumi entered the great hall of the third class an unpleasant surprise was awaiting him. Nobody was there. Confused, the soccer player started to search the festivities he had been anticipating. Not even Koji was anywhere in sight and usually he couldn't even turn around without tripping over that idiot. Things were getting really creepy. Every moment expecting an attack, the frightened boy move up the deserted floor until he finally heard calls for help from several of the locked rooms. Apparently somebody had locked all the actors and the rest of the staff into empty props rooms. But who would do such a thing? And why? Finally he found a door that wasn't locked and Izumi, who as we all no isn't the cleverest person in such situations, immediately opened it.
"Izumi! Finally you are here! I was already thinking that you'd got lost on the way."
Within the split of a second a confused Izumi found himself on the king- sized bed, the only escape route – the door – blocked by Koji's heavy body. What in the name of God was going on?! This couldn't possibly be a Third Class cabin! As always unaware of the danger he was in, Izumi started to ask the questions that had been on his mind all along.
"What is going on? Did they change the script again? Where are the Irish folk songs? Where are the dancers? At least I hope now I won't have to do that ridiculous ballet thing..."
"Oh, don't be sad, love – I'll make you forget all about it."
Slowly even Izumi caught up with the situation however by now escape was next to impossible. Then Koji's warm lips were pressed onto his and his hands roamed the bronze-skinned youth's slender body. Things would have ended badly for our poor soccer player had not Hirose sent Kurauchi to obtain the recipe for the shrimp cocktail that he had had yesterday at an after show party at Izumi's place. And now Kurauchi was standing in front of the door through which he could hear the voice of the boy and though he felt uncomfortable about intruding into what wqas obviously private moment he didn't want to keep his beloved Hirose-sama waiting. He entered, the fact that the door had been locked, only a minor obstacle.
Izumi, who realized that now the escape route was free, shoved Koji away, the latter staring unbelieving at the intruder. Using one hand to hold his torn dress together, Izumi rushed past Kurauchi before he had a chance to voice his request. Once Koji got a grip on himself the room was deserted. Bereft of the chance to beat up the impertinent guy who had dared to interrupt his seducing of his Izumi – he knew he had seen him before but couldn't quite place him – the forlorn rock-star called after his beloved.
"Izumi, don't run away! This is a ship – you can't escape me anyway!"
After that he was quite busy escaping the angry mob Izumi had released from his prison.