American Fruitcake
Author's Note: I do not own Gravitation. What a revelation that is…This is written in response to silver magess' holiday drabble challenge, which Aja inspired me to take. If you've never had American fruitcake, let me inform you that it's something almost everyone can agree on hating. Tatsuha POV.
Red. Green. These are the traditional colors of a cheerful season. You'd think that anything green and red should automatically be labeled merry. I'm still holding the red bow from the package in my hands, curling the velvety ribbon around one of my fingers, as I examine the cake in front of me. It's some kind of American Christmas cake. The card from Ryuichi never specified, but he sent it from America. San Francisco, to be exact.
He's staring again. I can feel his eyes on me. It's strange, because he shouldn't be so interested. It's making me suspicious.
I took the unidentifiable Christmas cake with me to Eiri's so he could tell me what the hell it was. He still hasn't told me anything more than what I already knew. All I know is that it's a Christmas cake and it has visible blocks of red and green in it. Blocks. I'd like to know what the hell the blocks are before I decide to eat any of it.
As I look up, I catch Eiri smirking.
I've been here for a half hour, and I'm almost ready to throw the shit in the trash... Then, I'll get a call from Ryuichi asking me how I liked it, and how he baked it himself…for my birthday…
The supermarket plastic wrap is mocking me. I wonder if Ryuichi even remembers my birthday is next week…
"Are you going to eat it? …You said Ryuichi sent it," Eiri says, without looking at me. He's typing on his laptop, as he sits across from me. The cake is on the coffee table, between us.
"You haven't told me what it is yet."
"Ryuichi sent it. You like everything from Ryuichi," Eiri says, as he continues to type. Again, a subtle smirk appears on my older brother's face.
He's baiting me. He wants me to eat it. I won't eat it… Not this time.
"I'm not eating it."
Eiri removes his computer from his lap, and places it on the table.
"In America, this is called fruitcake. You don't eat it."
Eiri picks up the brick-like cake, pulls the red bow away from my fingers, and begins to re-wrap it.
"What do you do with it?"
I never got to see the look on Mr. K's face as he received my fruitcake from Shuichi. I never got to see the look of disgust pass over his face. The fake smile. The polite "Thank you", through gritted teeth.
I never got to see any of that… but as I look under the Christmas tree, on this fine morning, a familiar red bow catches my eye.
To: Tohma. From: Mr. K.
And that's what you do with fruitcake.