One:
Dinnertime and Adolescents
Arriving home at six, the newest Li head was soothed at the sight of the green gates to their 'humble' abode (four car garage, animal topiaries galore). Li Mayumi sat back, fixing her hair after taking a nap. Being stuck in a traffic jam on their way back to Tomoeda, both father and daughter sighed happily; finally free from the busy Tokyo roads and now home. Jumping out of the car, Mayu skipped towards the foyer, knowing that her mother would be there to greet them. "Mommy!" she shouted, glomping on Sakura. Her elbow length hair shook back and forth, batting her father's face, who had just followed behind her.
"A-ya," Syaoran mumbled, Kids today don't have any respect or discipline, no wonder, men are corrupt, he thought to himself.
"Mayu, sweetie!" Kinomoto-Li Sakura hugged her daughter tightly, not being able to see her for two months. Both of them had the energetic and wholesome appeal that no one could ever resist a hug. Both mother and daughter had emerald eyes, twinkling happily. Sakura worked part time as a model, so much like her own mother Nadeshiko, which took most of her time out of the house. Still, not a day would pass without her keeping in touch, sending them photos and hugs on-line, every time her family needs her.
Welcoming her husband and daughter, she called for the whole family to meet downstairs. "Suichi, come down!" Sakura called from the stairs, caring and warm to the ears, "Daddy and Mayu are here!"
A sudden bump and thud could be heard from the second floor. Heavy footsteps could be heard going down the staircase, as well as soft ones, coming from a tiny entity. "We're gonna eat dinner! We're gonna eat dinner! Wee!" The sun guardian beast, Keroberos, in his false form, sung off key and skipped down along with an 11 year old boy. Tired of flying around Suichi's room while playing video games and cheering on him, he decided to walk. But this does not seem to work: much to the guardian's dismay, the little boy hurried down, running over his small stuffed-toy like body. "GGGAAAAAAHHHH! Watch it, kid!"
"Dad, why so early? Did sis harass you to do stuff again? You got me a new video game? Got me a (insert fave movie/superhero here) DVD? They have those already? Did she cause more trouble? Did she- mmph!-" poor little Suichi's mouth was covered by his older sister's hand, who sweat-dropped and flashed a false smile at her mother, looking perplexed. The 41-year-old Sakura bothered less… this scenario has been familiar to the Li household since they had two children.
"You know what, Sakura," Syaoran held his wife close, suggestively, "this is only the second time I came home early since-"
"Are you saying we should celebrate your sudden change of schedule?" Sakura beamed at him. The Li clansman shook his head vigorously, saying, "Let me finish. My schedule change made me think we should spend more 'time' together!" he pleaded with his eyes and teasing grin, although half the effect was gone due to his face's redness. Sakura's reply?
"Not tonight, hon."
"Why?"
She blinked as she scanned her thoughts for any important event for the day, and simply whispered it to his ear. Deceiving her husband was part of the idea, though the excuse might disappoint him. "Yuki and Touya's coming over, remember?"
Poor little Syaoran could not help but fall down and shrink (SD). Among all days of the year, why did he have to go on an afternoon off that day? Brother-in-laws… he sighed.
Almost forgetting dinner, also running out of excuses from her husband's attempts, she exclaimed, "oh my gosh! I'd better run to the kitchen!"
But before getting wrapped-up in cooking and preparing for the family, she stuck her head out from the arch, saying, "we're having steamed dumplings, cold tuna Soba and Udon tonight!" and with that, smiled and continued on with fussing over the food as a mother would always do.
Sakura finally learned to cook on her own… I'm so proud of my wife.
"Yay!" Mayumi, as gleeful as always, skipped towards her room to change, while Suichi carried the tiny guardian beast, dizzy and with a stepped-on flat tail, towards the kitchen to help his mom. Li lingered a while in the living room, slouching once again, trying to comfort his aching back on the couch.
On the other side of quiet Tomoeda, in a grand manor atop the cherry blossom adorned hill, another family was having dinner peacefully until…
"SUPPI!"
"Oh Suppi! Come out, come out wherever you are, you itsy-bitsy widdle kitty, you!"
A lady sang off-key about sweets and plushie-form magical beasts, walking back and forth as seen from the dining hall entrance. The household could not help but stare at the nuisance.
A blue-haired man, sitting at the far end of the table, adjusted his glasses. As the walls around him shook and floors creaked at the commotion, he sat still and looked to his sides; a little boy sat at the left, carefully stacking up his peas in a pyramid on his plate, and the right chair was empty. He guessed right: his son was late for dinner for the nth time. Dad… daddy… "Daddy!"
For a moment, Hiiragizawa Eriol thought he was mad, with all the voices in his head. He can still remember when Aki would ask him over and over about work, animals and anything under the sun, but he would always be busy burying his face in documents, libel and divorce suits and his eyes glued to his laptop screen, or worse, CNN. If only Akira Jirou knew how much he missed those days. Even his younger brother Hiroi barely spent time with him anymore. The little boy, ten years old yet still short, looked up at his father and asked, "Are you mad at AJ again?" He simply smiled at his son, and replied, "of course not, sport. He's just late for dinner."
And with heavy footsteps approaching the dining room arch, the father and son looked towards a young man, who was still wearing his big buckled boots and jacket. Eyeing the latecomer's every move; Eriol had a clue of what he was up to the whole day. "I'm guessing you didn't go to school today."
"I'm surprised you're asking," the grumpy reply barely escaped the 17-year-old's lips as he walked across the room and sat down. Eriol had to disagree with whatever his teenage son was plotting in his head, although born with almost the same keen sense, mannerisms, even features. Assuming AJ already healed from his bitterness, he told him in a soothing tone, "Well," he started to narrate about his day at work, "One Sen. Rennold filed against thelocal paperfor his pictures that they published along with a 'leftist' article-"
"So, all of a sudden, you are concerned about me?"
"Just tell me what you did today."
The red-head teenager breathed deeply, and kept silent for a few minutes. As for the 43-year-old parent, this was not a good sign. Either he did something stupid with his bad influences/friends, or wreaked havoc on the other side of town, and did something stupid with his bad influences; studying was not an option. Trying to divert his attention, and to clear his thoughts of negative ideas, he looked to his left: Masaki Hiroi was still playing with his food, but sensing the caring look and aura from his father, he showed him his youthful smirk.
Cheerful as always… Eriol thought.
Everything was simple for the 10-year-old; as if he only lived to play, even with his food.
Poor little Mizuki-Hiiragizawa Aki had to suffer being grounded for another month. No need to fuss though, he can get away with anything.
"Drove around, wrecked Mik's car… pretty much that the whole day, I guess…"
"Please," Eriol cleared his throat, "tell me what you did not do."
The youth had no other choice but to spit out every single, pointless activity he has done with his favorite companions. He hated being scolded 'for no (other) reason but living and breathing', but it's his house. He's never there for long… "Now what?"
"I asked you to tell me what you did not do today." He may be my son, but he isn't yet as clever as me.
With a loud
Clang!
Some Baroque period suits of armor and bronze urns fell. It must have been the two guardians' fault.
Aki put down the knife he was holding, thinking it not safe for him to actually do something significant in his life and kill the tyrant of the house on the spot. He would gladly spare his little brother's eyes from the bloodshed… tell him about Bram Stoker instead. His head ached, tired of unearthing a plausible excuse from his brain… what the fuck am I worried about? The old man's just asking – Lie. Finally, after collecting big words from stock knowledge, and from the many books he used to read, he blurted out the first thing that came into his mind. "(I) didn't help anyone." But his father raised a brow at him, not believing it. "I asked you about what you did not do."
"Well, I tried," he shrugged his shoulders, "(It was) nice talking to you… (a) s' if we were really (talking)." And with that, AJ left the table, leaving his little brother confused, and his father upset. "What does he mean by he were really, Dad? He were really what?" The blue-haired boy asked innocently, his big, dark purple eyes blinked affectionately upon looking at his now frustrated dad.
In time, along with the comeback of the moment spoiler/latecomer, their mother arrived from work. "Really? Oh, is she-?... That's great hon!" keeping herself motivated no matter how tired she is to still walk; she did not give in to stress, avoiding unwanted face lines. He was her son, too. And talking to him as an adolescent really refreshes her memory and spirit, by keeping enthusiastic. She held AJ close by his shoulders, listening to every barely-audible word that came out of his mouth.
What does Tomoyo know about kids that I don't?
"Mom!" Roi waved his free hand to welcome his mom. The ever-cheerful little boy stretched his arms up for his mom to hug him. "It's been a while, huh? You…"
You don't want to hear baby talk… yes you do.
Tomoyo looked at Aki with a caring smile, matching little Roi's. Definitely a Madonna and child moment, mother and son hugged so close as if the little boy did not want his mother to leave home again. "Come, come," she insisted, "we can talk over supper!" remembering what he was up to a while ago, the blue-haired little boy tugged on his 41-year-old mother's collar to put him down, then rushed to his seat and put finishing touches on his pea-pyramid.
But the teenager shook his head and headed back to the hallway, without looking back at the now complete family and replied dully, "Thanks. Not hungry…"
His mother called out after him, stuck her head out the arch and told him calmly, "we'll eat together later, okay?" and with that, gave him a reassuring smirk and wink.
"Oh, Suppi! I made dessert!" a lady, exuberant and loud, skipped towards the living hall. She was carrying a tray full of tiny fruit tarts, chocolates, cheese and fudge, almost tipping over when she leaned on the wall. The tiny guardian beast flew out of a room, and scowled at the former, "can you please stop screaming, you might break my large, precious, antique - - - NOOO!"
Crash!
The cat with translucent wings dove to the floor near the bits and pieces of a once large and precious antique vase from the Ming Dynasty. He sulked and looked towards the childish and ill-mannered entity, according to him, darkly. "Aww, Suppi lost his favorite thing… Have some fudge!"
"What's up with Jirou?" Tomoyo, falsely looking confused, cocked her head to the side, towards the hallway. "Miscommunication, I guess?" She sat down at Eriol's right side, looking at her husband with eagerness to know every detail.
But her question and guess was answered with silence, with him putting down the table napkin and water glass.
Trying to spark up interest in staying a while longer at the dining hall, Tomoyo started another of her spirited talks about work and her favorite models. "This month's photo session was great! Sakura – and her costume, of course! – made the scenery look so alive."
"That's good…"
She continued to talk, as their son Masaki pinched his nose to swallow every bit of vegetable on his dinner plate, while his mother's eyes were on him. "We are having a new line of summer dresses, finally, thanks to Heather; who filed my designs correctly, after the previous spring collection and mother's day specials, and - ", Tomoyo looked again towards the blue-haired little boy, who now tossed his peas as if they were mere marbles on his plate. If only she could take a picture right now: from that certain angle, the father and son looked very much alike, only the other older due to his hectic schedule and wrinkles forming on his forehead with several occasions of being too stressed. On his nose were lines made by his specs, still hanging on his face for almost 40 years now. Nonetheless, Eriol maintained his charm, which diverted Tomoyo's attention, "Roi, honey, don't play with your food."
"That's good, too…"
"And I'm sure you haven't asked Aki anything too confusing, have you?"
Eriol, all of a sudden, choked and coughed, "not-my-fault."
"And I thought you were supposed to say 'that's good' again, dad!" Hiroi, thank god, interrupted.
And in another room, the lady called Nakuru shoved fudge down the cat's throat, choking him to sugar high madness. "WHEE!" they both exclaimed.
Meanwhile, another family was about to have dinner when…
"Not my fault!"
"Not mine either!"
"Just shove that shit down your throat and admit it!"
"I don't care what shit you call it but I'm not goin' down!"
"Oh, you ARE goin' down!"
"Not without a fight!"
"AAAARRRGGHHH!" two, almost identical, twin brothers argued in the garage. One glomped on the other, causing brutal damage to his well-combed and gelled hair, the other pushing the former flat on his face on cold stone tiles. The sound of their mother's voice intervened, making them halt for a few minutes, "boys, your dad's gonna be home soon."
But the two boys, both with only dots and slits on their faces for eyes, resumed the little argument after hearing their mother. Frustrated, we could see a 42-year-old woman in the kitchen, undoing the knot on her apron, and shook her pigtails, as she walked towards the garage door. Hearing the sudden commotion, Mrs. Yamazaki turned the doorknob slowly, only to reveal her twin sons wrestling each other…
…Over new chrome wheel mags.
The 16-year-old twins stopped arguing the moment they felt Mihara-Yamazaki Chiharo's eyes on them, with an eyebrow arched up. "Let me guess," she animatedly chimed with a climactic pause, eyeing what seemed to be a barely noticeable but deep scratch on the wheel cover, "since I am your mother and I'm supposed to know everything-"
"Alright, alright!" The boys replied with a sob in unison, "We scratched the car."
"And?"
"We," Mikki coughed out, "skipped fifth period," Mikko then elbowed his twin, who had ruffled hair because of the rumpus earlier. Seeing their mother roll her eyes, Mikko debated, "It was only lab hour!"
"Besides," continued the latter, "those frogs needed to be released, back in their natural habitat-"
"Thus," the other pointed a matter-of-factly, "when we got them in the car, they croaked all about-"
"Mating season! But Florida Everglades is too far for little green dudes like them-"
And with another line, the cutesy twins finished each others' sentences…
"So we brought them to the park-"
"Just at the outskirts of town-"
"Almost near the dock-"
"They grew wings and scales!-"
"But they didn't thank us-"
"In fact-"
Their mother had a huge bead of sweat formed at the back of her head, as she tried to keep patient, listening to their now unbelievable excuse. The two, proud of their new version of an excuse, said together, "THEM GREEN HOPPING DUDES TRIED TO EAT US!"
"And what did I just hear from you a while ago?" Chiharo questioned her sons, them too, knowing too well what she has heard from their mouths.
Mikki shrugged his shoulders, falsely looking clueless, "That, um, the frogs grew wings and scales?"
"Hmm…?" Chiharo's brow twitched, with a big vein popping on her forehead.
"We just slipped… ya know, young adults like us-" Said he who claimed he was born first, or as he was called, Mikko.
"Miscommunication is common between siblings, peers, or in this case, parents and their offspring-"
"Just like the Salmon would swim against the current during mating season!"
At the same time, Mikki, the supposed first born, talked back, "-you're lucky we're not as depressed as Aje1!"
"Yeah," the other snorted, "though he has his new one, he destroyed our car-"
"CAUSE YOU LET HIM DRIVE FOR PUSS' SAKES!"
"WHY YOU-!" the brothers shoved their (heads) noses against each others'… and the quarrel continued.
Chiharo could not help but sigh. After devoting her 16 years to her little boys, she still could not tell them from their father. Three of them are socio-enthusiasts, sharing the same skills of leadership and tall tale telling, interested in other people's business. She was lucky there were only three little boys in her house; of course, that's including her husband. "Please," she breathed once again, "save that for your father."
The two dark haired boys shrugged their shoulders, stood straight and wiped dust off of their shirts. The real Yamazaki is not what he seems at home… thus explaining why his twins were quite afraid. Thank Kami-sama! Chiharo slapped her forehead; finally, her dear husband will arrive soon to stop them from having pointless arguments.
While on the road…
Traffic was running slow, making an already frustrated Kinomoto Touya angrier than a minute ago. He tapped on the steering wheel idly with his fingers, keeping himself from exploding. His two companions drove him to the brink of getting worse; they were having a spirited discussion about none other than the different kinds of dumplings and the perfect occasions to serve such.
"Cold dumplings are good with century egg-!"
"I don't mean to offend, but I think that's quite… unusual and… well, disgusting."
"Never you mind! Next time, I'll give you a sample of my cooking!"
And with those few lines, a faint, sarcastic chuckle could be heard in the background. "No way!" Touya snorted, "I know Sakura's cooking just got better, but please, spare Yuki-"
But the former simply dismissed Touya's opinion and hugged him from behind… oh so tight. "At least I know my snack tastes the same! Especially when he's in a sour mood! Teeheeheeheehee!"
Yukito kept his mouth shut, blinking his eyes in bemusement as his colleagues argued. Why did I ever bring that… creature with me! Touya thought. He may be mean, but that was the only way to put his misery in less than ten words.
A/N: aww, only 3000+ words… slaps forehead. Sorta split Ms. Akizuki in half. Really quirky combination, in fact, annoying if you keep her in one piece – literally. When I receive at least a handful of reviews, only then shall I tell you the reason why Nakuru split, or if ever I would still update this story. This is not a threat…
Kung baga, aabangan ko lang kayo sa isang madilim na eskinita na may dala-dalang matalim na… pustiso. Punta kayo ha. Teeheeheeheehee! (()) -->ay… kapisngihan!
1 - Pronounced as 'age'; a shorter nickname for Akira Jirou / AJ
