La Vie En Rose
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By Ryuniyo
Disclaimer: I do not own the YGO characters, the beautiful song "La Vie En Rose", and various other people, songs, and etc.
A/N: I immensely enjoyed writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it. Please review, your comments inspire me and keep me writing more. "La Vie En Rose" literally translates to "Life As A Rose" but according to research it is, "an expression that means that life is beautiful…"Since doens't allowlinks, if you are interested inmysources just contact me. Enjoy!
-Ryuniyo
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What do I know about Katsuya Jonouchi?
Well first off, he prefers to be called just Joey. Despite he's actions and speech he's actually quite intelligent. He has a genuine affection for poetry: mostly the classics like Shakespeare (who according to Joey is "mad, raving mad"), Yeats, and Emily Dickinson (who I know is mad, raving mad). He also enjoys the contemporaries like Robert Frost, Margaret Atwood, and Fred Chappell.
Joey loves literature and hopes to write a book someday; most likely for children.
A common knowledge is that Joey likes to eat. What common knowledge doesn't know is that Joey likes to cook--and he's pretty good. Unsurprisingly, Joey is a specialist in desert: pies, cakes, delicate pastries, there's very little he hasn't tried his hand at. While his cooking skills are superb, his cleaning-after-himself skills aren't quite so keen. Usually I avoid the kitchen while it's in use, but I can still hear the house cook wail at the annihilation of his territory. Though it's poses no problem, Henry is usually placated by Joey's creation and an extra thousand in his monthly paycheck.
Joey likes all kinds of weather, but he loves rain. I usually find him curled up at the window seat in our room, or the library, during a storm staring thoughtfully out into the turbulent sky. Sometimes he just sits there, wrapped in a blanket, watching the endless race of raindrops on the window pane. The rain mesmerizes him, and usually the constant melody cradles him to sleep. Sometimes I leave him if I deem the conditions acceptable, sometimes I carefully transport him to the bed, and sometimes I simply join him.
Joey can sleep like the dead; the only effective method to get him out of bed is to bribe him. Usually the promise of piping hot pancakes with fresh strawberries and cream gets him out in a flash, but not always.
Joey prefers hot baths to hot showers. He likes to soak in the hot water for an hour with music softly filtering in from our adjacent bedroom. Usually he fills the tub with some sort of bubble bath, heaven only knows what. Despite having his own shampoo, which he handpicked after an hour of scrutiny, he uses my shampoo. Why couldn't he have just gotten my shampoo if he likes it so much?
After months of living with him, I have come to discover that Joey is hopelessly sentimental. Whenever I'm off on business trips, even just to Tokyo for a one night stay, he tears through my closet and picks out his favorite shirt, dons it on, and gets, according to Mokuba, "all depressed, like a kicked puppy." His exact words, not mine. Joey waits faithfully every night, precisely at 9 for my phone call. We talk for an hour, or sometimes he just talks while I listen. Sometimes when he's drifting between reality and dreams, he begins to hum "La Vie En Rose". He probably doesn't know it, but when he does that it always guarantees a perfect night of sleep for me.
I also recently found out that Joey had kept the little rag doll puppy I had given him when we were still "bitter nemesis". It's a dopey little mutt with big, gold eyes. He's a little worn from the excessive use and travel with Joey. They make an utterly cute picture when Joey, thinking no one was around, would place "Iam" (short for Iambic) on top of his disheveled hair and continue reading his newest Poetry Anthology. Sometimes he would read aloud to Iam. Joey doesn't know it, but in my wallet I keep a memento of the sweet moment in the form of a Polaroid.
Music is more of my passion than Joey's, but Joey still enjoys many of the classics I love so dearly with an intrigued, understanding delight. Sometimes he'll sneak in while I play the piano and stay until the last note finishes reverberating. Sometimes he'll come in with Mokuba, curl up on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate, and simply enjoy the show. And sometimes, when he feels driven, he'll ask for a lesson. I won't lie and say he's a prodigy, but he's a decent student who takes things up moderately fast. It takes a while for him to feel comfortable with me "hovering" (as he puts it) over him, but he goes through his drills and scales with growing confidence.
I want to teach him "Canon in D" by Johan Pachelbel, but I never want to teach him "La Vie En Rose"-- I want him to always remember that song as something from me to him. Silly pup probably doesn't even know the words…doesn't matter I'll tell him someday. Someday special, someday that is well planned out, someday that will one of the happiest days of my life.
So, what do I know about Katsuya Jonouchi a.k.a. "Joey"? More than you ever will. He's my friend, my soul mate, and my pup. My Katsuya, my Joey, my Beloved. He is the reason why my life is beautiful, why "La Vie En Rose"
Il est entre dans mon coeur
Une part de bonheur
Dont je connais la cause
C'est lui pour moi
Moi pour lui dans la vie
He has entered my heart,
A part of happiness
Whereof I understand the reason.
It's he for me and I for him, throughout life,
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English translation by Thomas Keyes. Can't find the exact website though.
Hope you enjoyed. Please review.