Pairing: Hatori Sohma/Ayame Sohma
Theme: # 7. Superstar/スーパースター
Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket or its characters.
Rating: PG For shounen-ai, I suppose. And Kyou's potty mouth. XD
Summary: Continuing 'The Silent Path', on a slightly happier note.
Warning: Nothing really. Unless you find the image of Akito in bikini disturbing. A sentiment I completely share with you, as does Hatori, most likely. To be continued is implied. XP
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"What the Hell!" Kyou was looking over Tohru's shoulder at the fashion magazine she was flipping through out of pure boredom- plus it annoyed the Nezumi when he leaned over too close.
"What is it, Cat… did you get too close?" Yuki spoke icily, having noticed Kyou closely bending over Tohru.
"No, you idiot! Look!" He pointed wildly at the magazine, wrinkling it in the process. Yuki snatched the magazine away from Kyou's molesting hands and tried to get the folds out before giving it back to Tohru.
Until he saw what had made Kyou so startled.
"W-what?" He stammered in shock, looking at the ad in the magazine that was still scratched by Kyou's ministrations.
"Do you finally see, ya damn Rat?" Kyou screeched angrily. "Your idiotic older brother has moved away so he wouldn't bother us anymore, and now he's still stalking us- IN MAGAZINES!" He threw his hands up in frustration and ran out of the room, as far away from the offensive magazine as possible.
Tohru blinked a few times as she saw Yuki turning eerily quiet with the magazine in hand before stepping into action and taking the magazine from Yuki's hands. "What is the matter, Yuki-kun? There is only models in this magazine, so I wouldn't worry about anything too mu- ehhh?" Tohru's calming talk was cut short by a surprised exclamation, as it was indeed Yuki's brother Ayame gracing the covers of the magazine.
"But… the magazine isn't French, is it?" was Tohru's only question as she remembered that Ayame had moved to France.
"Did someone mention 'French', as in, 'French schoolgirls'?" came Shigure's voice from his writing room. It was obvious that he was slacking off as usual, as he only really didn't listen to the conversations around his house when he had an imminent deadline that he couldn't talk himself out of.
"N-No, it's… Ayame-san!" Tohru stammered, and handed the novelist the glossy magazine as he entered the living room. Shigure blinked when he saw Ayame in the advert in the magazine, before he started laughing loudly. "Isn't it just typical? Oh, Aya, you always land on your feet, no matter where you are!" Shigure grinned, proud of his friend even though he disapproved of his decision to leave Japan in the spur of the moment. Ayame had informed Shigure in advance that he had gotten a job offering to work for a relatively famous and innovative design brand. "And Tohru-princess, don't forget please that mentioning Aya does not immediately cancel out it being a French schoolgirl, as Ayame has been many personalities for my special enjoyment…" He let the sentence hang ominously as he went to visit Hatori.
Tohru scooted closer to Yuki by an inch or two, very much spooked by the offhand comment. Yuki couldn't agree more with Miss Honda's sentiments and scooted a little closer to the schoolgirl next to him.
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Hatori had been feeling down lately by the sudden leave of one of his closest friends (without even informing him of it!), not to mention the massive headaches he'd been having lately, which had started the day he'd woken up alone in the hot springs. Obviously he had been hammered, as he could not remember a thing of what happened, not even starting drinking in the first place.
He was drinking now.
He knew he really shouldn't, as he had caught a cold sleeping in the hot springs, half of his unclothed body – why had he been naked anyhow? – had still been wet and drying in the freezing air.
His other hand brought the old cigarette to his lips. He made a face and put both his glass of wine and said cigarette down. The combination of the two was horrible.
Feeling now empty-handed without both mind-numbing drugs in hand, he grabbed the paper sitting on his desk. He knew he should be working anyhow, so it was just as well that he took hold of Akito's file. He'd sent Ayame's medical files to his new address in Paris, hoping the Hebi would know how to handle it and not pass it out to some random doctor in the hopes of the poor man understanding why the Hebi changed into a snake when cold or hugged by the opposite sex.
He folded open the file and his slightly buzzed mind did not quite understand why Akito would wear bikinis. He rubbed his eyes, and flipped over the paper to look at the front page. Oh, it's the magazine Shigure has left around. I wonder whether it was the bikinis that made him so insistent that I had to see it… Hatori refused to ponder the thought more, when he figured that he probably didn't want to know the answer. Shigure had funny ways of cheering him up.
The doctor flipped the pages in a bored manner, seeing both male and female undernourished models pass his eyes. Most of them he forgot about once the page was turned over, but when he had finished the magazine, he could recall one model quite clearly. His eyes had been so…
Wait. No. No. No. That couldn't be… could it? He must have been imagining things, missing the Hebi more than he wanted to admit.
Frantically, he tried to find the page again. When he saw Ayame's familiar naughtily sparkling eyes on the otherwise serious face models were forced to wear, he had to stop and catch his breath for a moment.
"Ayame, you're a superstar?" He mumbled to the otherwise empty room. He took in Ayame's undeniably male outfit and kept staring, like his mind could not quite grasp the concept. Confused, he threw the magazine back on the desk, before immediately picking it up again. He couldn't believe it. What would Akito say? Did Ayame even know what sort of danger he was putting the family into by exposing himself in such a huge way?
And why did he feel his headache increasing when he stared at those too-familiar eyes? His eyes narrowed as he felt there was something a little strange at the way Ayame glanced in the camera. He winced as his headache reached new heights, and he rubbed his forehead with a trembling hand.
He put the magazine down again. Maybe the reason of his headache would come to him. Maybe he just missed Ayame.
He stroke Ayame's picture on the glossy magazine, trailing fingertips over the photoshopped hair that Hatori knew needed no editing to be perfect.
And then kiss was left on the hair, then on the eyes that made his head ache as much as his chest, then on the lips, a little too shiny to be natural.
"I don't care what you do… just come back in the end."