Author's Note- I got this idea when I drew a tear drop on my face, and a teacher told me what it meant. Believe me when I say the story is more interesting than I am.

Disclaimer- I don't own this. Feh.


Taking a long needed break from a new novel, Yuki sighed as he opened up a new browser window, directing it to his home page. There was his e-mail, one hundred fifty-four new messages. Deciding to put that aside for another week or two, Yuki scrolled down to his horoscope— You will find love this month. The author rolled his eyes and continued scrolling. There were apparently ten –new- ways to improve his health. After giving the mundane list a quick look over, Yuki saw sex as number three and decided it was his favorite.

And then, of course, the fact of the day came last.

Did you ever wonder why people draw tear drops under their eyes?

"No," Yuki muttered but read on.

While it might be the new trend…

"Trend? They look like retards."

Murderers used to draw teardrops on their eyes to commemorate the number of people they had killed. For instance, one teardrop meant that they had murdered one person. When this was still happening, some would use paint, or ink, but murderers today are more likely to use some form of make up. However, some choose to go to the extreme and have it permanently tattooed on.

'Whatever.' Yuki sighed as he stood up and made his way to the bathroom. His eyes were growing tired, and he splashed cool water on his face. After he wiped his face dry, Yuki noticed a stick of eyeliner lying on the sink. 'Probably the brat's,' he thought. Still, for kicks, he picked up the black stick and pulled the cap off.

"Chanel?" He said in a rather amused thought as he saw the label. Shuichi did such a bad job with the eyeliner, why did he have to buy the good ones?

Feeling slightly more homosexual than usual, Yuki leaned in to the mirror and drew a small tear drop under his left eye.

"Yep. I was right. This is retarded." He swiped the towel over his face to get the black stuff off, but failed. Wetting the towel and rubbing harder, the tear drop remained, and now his cheek was red to boot. Yuki cursed his stupid ideas, and looked at the eyeliner again, reading the small print on the stick.

Lasts twenty four hours, no smudge or wear.

"… Fuck."

Yuki let the eyeliner drop back down and went back to his novel. The brat would have to know how to get it off when he got home. Maybe this could be his new found mourning for Kitazawa, so that he wouldn't have to drag his ass to New York once a year. Though, he knew that he probably needed the trip to New York as more of a vacation than mourning. Yuki stared at the screen in front of him. He had already written a good twenty-something pages from morning to late afternoon. Maybe it was enough. The novelist stood up and closed his laptop, and decided to take a nap. The couch seemed rather comfortable, and so Yuki walked to the living room.

A few hours later, Yuki woke up, to a night sky in the window, and no sign of Shuichi. Yuki frowned; the brat was always home by seven, eight the latest. The clock over the TV blinked 8:59 and then an even 9:00. If he had cared, Yuki would have called. However, he didn't want to deal with cries of "Yuki was worried about me!" in the brat's annoying voice, so instead he called Tohma. At least the worst Tohma could do was be jealous.

Yuki only frowned more as he held down 1 on the speed dial Tohma had insisted when he bought him the phone. Tohma picked up before the first ring even finished, leaving Yuki to wonder how the president of NG had so much free time.

"Eiri!" he heard the older man shout into the phone, slightly irked.

"Where's the brat?" Yuki asked, too annoyed to waste time with Tohma's usual crap. He could almost hear the other's trademark pout through the phone.

"Shindou-san is recording late, now will you address me normally?" Tohma had the tiniest bit of hope in his voice.

"No." Yuki said coldly as he hung up the phone. Back in the NG building, Tohma pouted again. "Yuki used to be such a nice boy," he remarked as he went back to work.

Yuki's stomach grumbled and he decided it was about time to fix dinner, brat or no.


Yes, that's it for now. I already have the next chapter done. Does Yuki ever get it off? Does Shuichi even come home? Do I sound like an ass?

Review and it'll be continued.