Look at the Fireworks

Disclaimer: I don't own SD boys, Inoue does. The events that follow are not included in the original plot but enjoy anyway.

Summary: That holiday was never his favorite; that holiday was always boisterous like a world war, in retrospect. But that holiday was something special for someone else. Shounen-ai; RuMit. One shot.

A/N: The romance in this fic is very subtle, if there is at all. I don't know where I got this but I hope you can find something worthwhile in it. Enjoy…

He wearily waited for this day to come only to find it a bore (again), and so he decided to seek shelter in his four cornered territory: this bleary dungeon he called a room. He stretched himself in his bed hoping to find something on the ceiling's surface which he knew was never there. Ceiling cracks; where the hell were the ceiling cracks anyway? If there were ceiling cracks he would have something else to impose under his pointless scrutiny, rather than focusing his eyes where they're bound to get sore. If there were ceiling cracks he would secure evidences of this day's pointlessness on account of utter boredom. He'd rather stare at those crooked lines than to join the celebration ensuing outside, and that says a lot. But there was nothing; all there was were faint shadows cast by whatever was solid outside. And whatever these objects were, they were sure to be Hisashi Mitsui's object of envy. Because they were deaf and therefore undisturbed by the oppression brought about by the stupid explosion; he hated those sounds, especially when they were followed by a ridiculous, conspiratorial cheer that went something like, 'sugoi!' What's so fabulous about firecrackers and New Years anyway? If your name was Hisashi Mitsui, there certainly was nothing besides and beyond the pesky package of noise.

'Hisashi, son? Won't you go down to meet your cousins?' He heard his mom knock her knuckles on his bedroom's door and in between, he caught her pleading tone too.

She hasn't learned the basics until now, has he? Mitsui thought irritably. I don't like going out of this damned room on new years; she should've figured that out after the permanence of seventeen annual self confinements, right?

'Mom, I'm tired. My ears are all dead I can't get anything going. I'm sorry (and I'm sorry for my cousins too).' Mitsui replied in a voice that implied sleepiness. As if there was any chance to get drowsy what with these insane explosions.

'Okay son, but be sure to greet them later, alright?'

'Fine, mom.' He said and muffled his voice with a pillow for effect.

He listened as her footsteps died down. His cousins had arrived and that meant simple enough; another noisy new year for Hisashi Mitsui. The preceding year was just as abysmal, to put it minimally; his cousins were so enthused by the idea of sending mini rockets through the clouds and were equally dismayed by Mitsui's refusal to join their little business. They quarreled about Mitsui's attitude, the obsessive killjoy, and his medically inexplicable firecrackerphobia, which was as always lamely justified by Mitsui's 'fuddy' request for silence. It wasn't the first time there was a complaint about it; in fact, it's a regular issue in the household as far as everyone's concerned. 'Honestly, you are like a no fun mom who comes in and kills the party by turning off the radio and makes the kids cry.' his young cousin had told him. They thought he was a bore and that there was no way getting him out of the rut, but that was really fine with Mitsui who sequestered himself in his bedroom wondering where peace and reason might be hiding that day. But later on that event, the pranksters practically got tapered of firecrackers and decided to pester Mitsui. It wasn't really their intention to annoy the grouchy cousin but somehow, the idea of prank calling the police station for pizza delivery at the break of New Year didn't sound much of a good idea for Mitsui. 'It was a stupid resort of someone who's so desperate for humor he'd think a popping bubble is funny.' Mitsui had argued as if he made the rules of which was funny and not. New Year was never fun.

Frustrating bastards. Mitsui felt a mute curse jerking inside his throat at the recollection of last year's personal disaster. Certainly he wouldn't want to repeat it and that's why he was planning on spending the New Year by himself, in this room (again), doing totally nothing, which wasn't splendid by the by. While his family was out there, too happy to remember their aberrant son, here he was behaving like all he needed was professinal help. Great, just great. He was too annoyed to preoccupy himself with reason or otherwise attempt to parry the bitter reality that Mitsui Hisashi is a bore and new years aren't. But what did it matter? There were many ways to forget it, like sleeping?

Or perhaps he could make several phone calls to some people he knew. It really wouldn't hurt to be nice at times, especially now that it was a holiday. Maybe it would sound sweet. Just maybe; but at least he was sure it wouldn't be mean to do so, nothing-to-lose situation that he's got.

He got up from the bed, made sure that his windows were locked and sound proof, and reached for the telephone. Of course this pathetic plan wouldn't work out without the help of his slightly used phone book which he secured inside his barely opened study table's drawer. He studied the pad for the names of his team mates.

First stop; Akagi.

'Hi. Mitsui here, is Takenori home?'

'Speaking.'

'Happy New Year, captain.' Yuck; calling him captain was so odd.

'Yeah, same to you. It sounds so quiet there, are you somewhere else?'

'No, Akagi. Just home.'

'Mmmmh. Well, thanks for calling. Happy New Year too.'

Then Miyagi.

'Hi, Miyagi. Having a nice New Year?'

'Uh, sorry. But who are you?'

'It's Mitsui, baka.'

'Oh. Happy New Year. Uhm, listen, I'm trying to get Ayako on the other line. I want to be the first person she will talk to when new year comes so, er, I hope you don't mind--'

'Yeah, it's fine, pal. Good luck, and happy New Year too.'

Then Rukawa.

'Hi?'

'Hello?'

'Is Kaede in?'

'Sorry, he's not. Who's calling?'

'It's Mitsui, his teammate from the basketball club.'

'Will you be leaving a message, sir?'

'Nope. Thank you.'

Then Sakuragi.

'HAPPY NEW YEAR!'

'Eew. Calm down, Sakuragi. I just called to greet yah; Happy New Year, dude. Bye.'

'Hey, wait. Mitchy, aight?'

'Yeah, it's me. Have a merry time, man.'

'You sound sulky. Holiday's pretty boring without me, neh?'

'Uh, I guess not. With or without you is a bore as a matter of fact.'

'Love the fireworks, lame ass; they're pretty. Once in a year isn't often, y'know.'

'I hate them. Bye, Sakuragi.'

Then Kogure.

Ring fourteen times. Argh. Kogure was on a holiday vacation in Shanghai. There was no way of communicating with him.

Then Yasuda.

'Happy Holidays, who's calling?'

'Hisashi Mitsui.'

'Wow, sempai! Happy New year!'

'Yeah, I was calling to say that. Happy New Year too,'

'What's your NY resolution, Mitsui-sempai?'

'Resolution? Hell, I don't know.'

'You're not changing anything?'

'What should I be changing, Yasuda?'

'Uhmmm, what about…let me have your place in the line up, is that okay?'

'Uhmm, maybe when your name ends up on the first page of my phone book. Sorry,'

'Hahaha. Happy New Year again, sempai.'

'Yeah, you too. Thanks.'

Over. No one left worth getting friendly over the wires. The clock hit the digits where nothing else was to be done except to be blustered by the barbaric huggamugga outside. Boredom and lethargy were all over the place that he couldn't help but to hug them. And he wasn't even sleepy.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

'Who is it?'

'It's me again, son.'

'Mom? What do you need?'

'Someone came over to see you.'

'Me? Who? My cousins?'

'No. Someone else from your school. He said his name's Rukawa.'

'Coming.'

Mitsui scampered out of his room, not knowing if he was wearing a smile or something. But Rukawa's visit was a relief and he didn't even know why. He passed the living room, put on a fake smile for his dear cousins, and slammed the entrance door behind him where Rukawa was reportedly waiting. It didn't even transpire to him that he had to greet his relatives a happy new year, but they didn't take the first step either; not exactly Hisashi Mitsui's loss at that, right?

'Hi! Rukawa! Thank god. I thought I was gonna die in that hell. You know, we should stow away from here, stupidity is contagious in this place.' Mitsui beamed upon seeing the freshman. He grabbed Rukawa's arm and moved hastily away from his home.

'Where are we going, sempai?' Rukawa asked in a perplexed but dulcet tone. Mitsui was dragging him somewhere which was rather…odd.

'Well, somewhere quiet, I guess.'

'Why?'

'Because people are being moronic and noisy and violent and primitive; dammit, it's not even full moon.'

They walked and jogged and strolled through the park, through empty high ways, through windy fields, and almost through all the uncharted, umbrageous geography of bloody Kanagawa. It was too hard to find some place where incinerated powder wasn't stinking, and Mitsui's impatience was thumping the lights out of him. They stopped, and felt that the wind was flat except for some few occasional swirls.

Mitsui noticed that he was still clutching Rukawa's arm.

'Ooops, sorry.' He let go.

'Fireworks are no longer heard here.' Rukawa said.

Mitsui listened and adjusted his auditory systems for more accuracy. Yeah, there were no more fireworks; it was silent enough to hear a whirring fly.

'Success!' Mitsui said out loud. 'Anyway, where are we?'

'Three miles away from Kurosawa Street (your place).'

'What?' Mitsui perused the place and found nothing he was familiar of. There were in some remote roadside by the bay and no cars drove by. 'Rukawa, we're lost; we must find our trail back—'

'It's fine; I know where we are.'

'Uh, okay.' Mitsui said, all of a sudden ashamed of his misplaced panic. 'Hey, I called you earlier; your maid said you weren't home.'

'I wasn't, sempai.'

'You were out on a New Year? You could get a bloody accident from firecracker sparks, you know that? I hate New Years, this is the worst time of the year; dumb people are turning into dumber lunatics and the air always gets filthy and the silence is polluted and the night is forgotten and the animals are abused and the sky is desecrated and every crappy thing is happening.' Mitsui said all this in a long, unpunctuated rant. 'Anyway, where were you then?'

'Along Kurosawa Street.'

'My street? Oh, so you were on your way to visit me? How nice of you to be my salvation.'

Mitsui's gaze was shooting upward with no particular expression in it, or perhaps it was too dark to make anything out of it.

'Hey, Rukawa. Why did you come to visit me?'

'Talk.'

'Talk? What do you wanna talk about? You're a funny guy, you know that? I mean, it's not like you to want to talk…do you?'

'Okay, I'm sorry.' Mitsui muttered apologetically but still grinning. 'So, you really want to talk? I'll start then…uhm, I don't know what to say, er, let me think, 'uhm...'

'It's okay, sempai.'

'Alright. So you'll go first? What do you want to say to me, Rukawa?'

'Nothing.'

'Nothing? But you said you want to talk? Er, are you sure you dropped by to talk? Let me get this straight; you want me to talk to you? Is that it?'

'...'

'Rukawa, all you have to do is ask. What do you want me to do?'

'Greet me, sempai.'

'Ahahahaha. Well, that's easy. Why didn't you say so? I was phoning you a while ago precisely for that in fact. Alright…Happy New Year, Rukawa.'

'No; not that.'

'Huh?'

'It's my birthday, sempai.'

'Really? Now?'

'11, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…now.' Rukawa muttered while checking out his digital Nike watch.

And far off the distance, multi colored shafts of light fired through the air, through the dark skies, and broke into thousands of fountains. In which the same instance, loud explosions were suddenly audible and they penetrated the virgin ears of Hisashi Mitsui who shook in epileptic vehemence. Mitsui plugged his ears, shut both his eyes to alienate himself from this 'firecracking' madness, and screamed in maximum volume.

'DARN, STUPID PEOPLE! I freakin' hate new years, die idiots, rot in—'

'Sempai,' Rukawa cut him short with a stern voice.

'Huh?'

'Look at the fireworks, Mitsui-sempai.'

Mitsui uncovered his eyes to be exposed in such magnificence. The sphere above him was practically glowing with too many colors and hues; hard to admit it, but it was beautiful. The fireworks show lasted a few minutes as Mitsui wondered how much money went down the pipes just to launch them. They continued to reign supreme in the skies, making everything bright and visible. Until at last, only a few, weak ones were left exploring the would-be serene heavens.

'It was beautiful. I liked it, Rukawa.' Mitsui said; even he wasn't sure of his last sentence.

'I told you.'

'Yeah.' Mitsui took in a labored breath. 'Hey, I-I'm sorry.' He finished, breaking the syllables into a multiple.

'What for, Mitsui-sempai?'

'I said I don't like New Years.'

'You said you hated them.' Rukawa corrected him.

'Yeah. I'm sorry I said it sucks and it's crappy and it's a good-for-nothing-get-yourself-killed holiday and that it's exclusive for stupid people, which in many ways it has been, now that I think about it... I'm really sorry, Kaede.'

'It's okay.'

'And happy birthday too.'

'Thank you, sempai.' And Rukawa revealed a close-mouthed smile for the first time; unmistakably, it was a smile because his lips arched and his usually dead eyes glimmered; though all these hints were slight. 'Let's go now.'

And they traced back their path to Kurosowa Street in a few slow but treasured minutes. They reached Mitsui's home, not realizing how romantic their meeting was and to Mitsui, how it changed him. From then on, he aimed to have active new years rather than to stagnate in their sourness and feel their joy flow past him. All because Rukawa pulled him out and walked him home.

'Goodnight, Mitsui-sempai.' Rukawa said as they halted at Mitsui abode's front gate.

'Thank you, Kaede. You made me love this holiday, your birthday. And before I forget; please stop calling me Mitsui. It's Hisashi now.' Mitsui smiled and reached out his hand. Rukawa took it before saying goodbye and moved away from the house.

Once alone in the pavements of Kurosawa Street, Rukawa heaved out a melancholy sigh. A sigh of plaintive and regret. He let slip his first chance to tell Mitsui how much he liked him and how much he'd been suffering from this enormous, immeasurable, incomprehensible, imperishable crush on him. Today was perfect and it had gone by only seconds before. Now the moment was lost, the first one. But first ones aren't always the last ones. He could try on the next holiday. Valentines day? Nah, too mawkish. But yeah; someday, somehow, he will.

END

A/N: What do you call this? Oh, cheesebag. Gracious goodness. Uhm, in my opinion, Rukawa's actions weren't a dent or a flop because…because he made considerable progress towards winning Mitsui's affections which is a good sign. Rrrriiiight? Oh what the hell am I doing justifying myself? It's all up to you readers anyway.

Er, one line in the first paragraph is borrowed from Charles Dickens (Hard Times), and another one in the 3rd to the last paragraph is from Leo Tolstoy (Family Happiness). I got the name Kurosawa (street of Mitchy's house) from a Japanese director.

Any kind of comments would be welcome. Thanks for reading. Ciao!