Title: Luncheon
Author; Phoenix Wand
Rating: Still PG-13, only cause of the first chapter. This one's PG.
Author's Notes: ZO-MY-FREAKIN'-GOD! This took me forever to just sit down and type up. Damn you, lack of free time and creative ideas! Okie… enough yelling from me. Here's the second and final chapter in this totally random fic. Basically, I'm just like, "Finish up…start on Tatari fic…actually plot lines in that one…" Yeah, this is purely fluff, and just to see if I can write Yami no Matsuei. The last chapter was blah, 'cause it was starting out serious, but then I got fluffy, 'cause I realize it had no real plot, so it had two completely different tones. bangs head against keyboard Bad Phoenix-chan! Cutting short the rant (too late -.-;;) here's Chapter Two.
Disclaimer; Yeah, a fifteen year old owns the rights to a manga sold in God knows how many countries. Did I mention I have a bridge to sell ya?
------
He had always loved Kyushu. The town-- for it could not have been described as a city, lacking the professional, if not cold, hustle and bustle along its streets-- was a nice break from such places as Heiankyo, Tokyo. He could only be thankful that he hadn't been assigned to either of those cities. The suicide, murder, and "accidental" death tolls were through the roof. The Shinigami who worked the former of those cities rarely had time for socializing, and even with his seventy year term, Asato Tsuzuki barely knew them beyond cursory greetings.
But Kyushu…Kyushu was quiet, so long as Muraki chose not to begin his terrorizing serial murders. Such actions were not unknown for the man. Otherwise, though, there were only the few suicide deaths who had panicked and refused to move on, the rare murder. Mostly, it was paperwork. Lots of paperwork.
And while Tsuzuki hated paperwork, he hated field work, the complicated kind, much more. Today, though, had been a paperwork day, and better yet, one in which Watari had decided to "experiment" which left most of the workers around the younger man's lab an excuse to put off work, for fear of their lives. The Shinigami still wasn't sure if that was better or worse than the sex/body change potions.
This, though, was better than anything. Autumn days in Kyushu were beautiful, neither too warm nor too cold, with rich red and gold foliage coasting along the breezes. Often, rain inhabited this season, the forewarnings of winter to come, and it seemed by pure luck that the fall had been dry thus far in. Truthfully, though, this wasn't saying much, as the last waning days of summer had just past.
Unconsciously, his lips had formed a soft smile in the afternoon, and when he glanced at the smaller teen walking next to him, it slowly widened. Honestly, Tsuzuki knew this was half of the reason he was happy to be out of the office.
Hisoka Kurosaki was not like other males at his age (he looked sixteen, though, he was eighteen.) His face was young, his emerald eyes weathered and closed off. Or Tsuzuki had thought them closed at first, but he knew better now. There were the subtle shifts and times when Tsuzuki had surprised the boy completely. He would see flashes of this, or blushes and wide eyes, followed by the ever resounding, "Idiot!"
"Stop that."
He was also an empath. Tsuzuki sighed, resigned. He'd never been very good at hiding exactly what he was thinking, nor putting any restrictions on his emotions. He was, after all, gregarious by nature. So Hisoka would put up walls around his own powers to drown him out, but occasionally, he could still pick up the older man's thoughts. "Sorry, Hisoka."
"Idiot," the word was muttered under the boy's breath, as he stared down at his trainers tapping lightly against the cement. When he finally glanced up, his face was in the slightest form of a scowl. His expression was usually one of two, and, after a while, the man had simply accepted this. "Where is this place, anyway?"
In truth, he wasn't exactly sure. In was in the area, of course, but he had figured if they kept wandering along in this general direction, they'd run into it eventually. Ah, to be so stupidly optimistic. "Not far. I think it's just down this street." Tsuzuki mentally winced as soon as he said it. I think. It had slipped, and being the intelligent boy he was, Hisoka would not miss it.
Suddenly, Tsuzuki really wished he was facing the homicidal blender instead of the boy in next to him. He was sure the blender, teeth and all, was safer.
"You think?" Eyes flashing, scowl affixed, he looked a force to be reckoned with. "Didn't you check?" His arms had crossed over his chest, and, in his dark brown bomber jacket, he did look somewhat cute. Thinking that, however, proved to be a mistake because the younger boy's eyes narrowed, and he added, "No, you didn't." Apparently, he picked that up, too.
From a street in the lower parts of Kyushu, nearer to the rural area of suburbs, there could be heard loud yelling, apologies, and what sounded like puppy whimpering. To the few people who passed, very quickly, once they saw, they had to wonder how a boy that small managed to be that fiery.
------
The restaurant had turned out to be a small place. Quaint, almost, though not quite picturesque. The name had been painted across the front windows in soft, calligraphic handwriting, and a two signs in the windows proclaimed the place to be both OPEN and NOW HIRING.
It had taken a phone book and asking for directions to find the place, both tasks over seen by a glaring Hisoka, but they had found it. In Tsuzuki's opinion, the place looked just fine. His opinions of good restaurants did not coincide with the price or rating in newspapers, but rather the quality of their baked goods. It spoke of his understanding of Hisoka, though, that he had picked a place known to make the sort of good, home cooked-style meals that he knew the other to like.
Tsuzuki held open the door for his partner, and did not receive a thank you. He had not expected one, seeing as how the boy was still annoyed with him. That was fine with him; he was not, after all, still being hit. Hisoka was small, but Tsuzuki knew only too well that meant almost nothing.
The inside was largely informal. The tables had been spread around in what at first appeared to be erratic fashion. A closer look would reveal, though, that they had all be spaced equally apart, to allow for pleasant conversation that would not be too confining within the small-ish diner. It was not a place for candle lit dinners, but for equally good food and conversation.
A girl, around the same age as Hisoka looked, though too tall, stood behind a counter not too far off. She must've been a waitress, wearing a black apron that seemed to be the only required dress code, but she was not working. The simple reason being that no one was in the restaurant at the moment. Her hair was a reddish gold, pulled back haphazardly, eyes behind her glasses olive, and she was apparently immersed in a book. Upon closer inspection, Tsuzuki was fairly sure it was one of the main stream mangas that were covetously displayed in the front windows of many local book stores.
With apparent carelessness, she raised one hand, with a quick, "Be there in one second." However, no sooner had she looked at them over the rims of her glasses, then she stood up, dropped her book, and gasped. It took barely a moment for her to shout, "Mon dieu! Kitsune-sama, venir ici! Maintenant!"
It occurred to Tsuzuki, who like Hisoka was still standing just beyond the doorway, watching this odd girl yelling (in French, he thought?) that perhaps this hadn't been the best choice of restaurants. They might still be able to leave, though, sneak out very quietly before the girl noticed and started yelling in…whatever again.
"What?" A blonde girl, some what shorter, with darkened blue grey eyes poked her head out of what could only be assumed as the kitchen. Her tone seemed to suggest that the other girl, who was looking positively nuts at this moment, was prone to these outbursts. She seemed more at ease, balanced with herself, comparing to the other girl, who was more like a parakeet on Dexatrim. However, her eyes, too, widened when she saw them, and she shouted something that sounded like squee (whatever the hell that was,) and ran off, yelling to somebody named Cin… and Ace? Apparently, just as crazy as the other one.
Didn't surprise Tsuzuki one tiny bit.
"Ils sont si mignons!" The girl seemed to take a deep breath, before reacting more calmly. She turned to the two thoroughly off-center Shinigami, and began speaking more normally again. "I'm sorry. I got a little side tracked there." She smiled, now, apparently calmer. Could people really change moods that fast? "Do you have a seating preference?"
"Uh…" This was, of course, Tsuzuki who spoke, glancing down at Hisoka to see if the teen had any opinion to add of his own. However, they didn't get the chance to add more, as the girl grabbed two menus off the table.
"Great! The view's the best over here." The table she led them to was near the front window, and she slapped the menus cheerfully down before adding, "Call either me or Kitsune when you're all set. Thanks." And she was gone, tittering, slipping into the kitchen. Rapid French was heard behind the doors not long after they had closed.
Tsuzuki looked cautiously at his partner, unsure if Hisoka would be overly annoyed by the atmosphere. While one couldn't quite blame the older Shinigami for being ignorant of the rather eccentric help of the diner, Hisoka could be annoyed by his choice. However, under the man's watchful eyes, the other merely seemed to pause a moment, strengthening the barriers around his mind. The girls were too…excitable. "Is this all right?"
The boy opened one eye. "Whether it is or not, we don't have time to go somewhere else. We'll just eat quickly and leave." Without another word for the subject, he reached for his menu, and began scanning the contents.
A smile was suppressed at that; whatever the boy might say to the contrary, Tsuzuki had a good feeling he was accepting this place because the older Shinigami had expressed an interest in it. "Thanks."
The mumbled reply was wordless, and Hisoka did not bother to meet his partner's eyes. In a few minutes, though, they'd both picked out their meals, and when Tsuzuki called, it was hardly a moment before the blonde girl had appeared through the door.
"Yeah?" While the girl didn't appear to have the same annoying perchance for small talk as did her friend, she showed no less interest in the two Shinigami. She scrawled down their order, in some neon purple pen, and assured them it would only be "a few minutes," before heading back to the kitchen. For once, there seemed to be no outburst of French when she entered.
The rest of the meal passed without incident, simply the odd, comfortable conversation that passed between the pair, and, more often, the comfortable silences. The young empath had never been particularly talkative, so when they reached dessert (for Tsuzuki, Hisoka had simply taken a warm Kocha,) the restaurant had fallen into a comfortable quiet.
It surprised him, then, when Hisoka looked up from where his hands wrapped around the tea cup. "How is it?" His eyes were not quite flat, not as closed off as always, but far from the bright Tsuzuki had rarely seen them.
For a moment, the older man was confused. He highly doubted that Hisoka would care how exactly the apple pie tasted (though, all things admitted, it wasn't bad.) His brow furrowed, lips forming a soft frown, where a few crumbs still clung stubbornly to his mouth. However, whatever else might have been said about Tsuzuki, the man was not stupid. If he was not referring to the pie, then he was asking about the incident that had happened only a few weeks ago. Subtle, vague questions would be the closest Hisoka could ever put himself to asking if the older man was doing better. "Good. Thanks for your concern, Hisoka." He smiled, brightly, which only earned him rolled eyes and the lightest bit of pink across his fair cheeks.
Of course it would be hard for him. To have admitted something that made himself so vulnerable was unsettling for the boy who distanced himself from other out of self-defense. "I decided a long time ago that I belong right here…by your side." Still, Tsuzuki had appreciated it more than anything, but Hisoka had not mentioned it since. He knew better than to think the boy, speaking in the desperation of the moment, had forgotten exactly what he'd said. He remembered. It had meant too much for him not to have, and the boy did not use words lightly, speaking when and if he wanted to, and saying whatever was on his mind.
They stood when they finished, and a glance at his watch told Tsuzuki they had made time well enough. While they would not be early to arrive back at the Ministry, they would avoid his usual excessive lateness. The latter rarely happened when he went to lunch with Hisoka, though as they did not always dine together, he was still known for his "slacker" attitude.
Back at the counter, it seemed the smaller of the girls had completely taken over the shift, as the red haired girl was no where to be seen. When they approached, she looked up from a sketch pad, where tiny doodles lined across corners in brightly colored chaos. "All finished?" She tapped a few buttons into the register experimentally, and added, "That's 3,200.00¥, please."
Another advantage of eating out in pairs, the allotted 3,000¥ a day turned into 6,000¥, giving them a little more elbow room where dining was concerned. Also, Tatsumi rarely enforced the rule of yen limits with anyone who wasn't Tsuzuki, so Hisoka would tend to earn a bit more. The older man began to pay, but Hisoka shook his head.
Occasionally, the younger boy would pay, largely out of his hatred to be treated as a child or anything less than an equal. "I'll get it this time." There was hardly any stress on the last two words, but it fell into their tradition of switching off tabs every so often or splitting. Hisoka left 650¥ as a tip, and they headed out, Tsuzuki with a smile, thanks, and a wave. One which his partner did not bother to second, instead just zipping up his jacket the tiniest bit as they passed through.
"Come again," the blonde called after them, though whether they heard or not was anyone's guess. She sighed, glancing over her shoulder and heading into the kitchen where her friend sat, perched lackadaisically on a few of the stacked delivery crates. "They just left." She tilted her head towards the door, signifying who.
"Nice tip?" Her eyes were curious over the rim of her glasses. Taking in the mild shrug to mean somewhere in between (at least they hadn't been stiffed, which was common enough in this line of work,) she felt a small smile grow across her face. "They were cute, weren't they?"
Kitsune chuckled. "Yes!" Quickly, she added, "Though, I have to say, they were clueless. I mean, Phoenix-chan--" this was undoubtedly the other's name-- "I could even see it between them."
"Yeah, but I bet you that they get it eventually." The red haired girl slid off the crates, and stretched. "We won't know, though. Ten to one, we scared 'em bad enough, they're not coming back."
------
"Next time, I pick the place," Hisoka reprimanded, sternly as they walked along the pavement towards the alley. It was not a good idea to travel back to the Ministry in the open. One person saw you, and things got really complicated, really quickly. "The staff there…." He trailed off, unable to even think of a word to describe how odd the girls were. And this coming from an empathic Shinigami.
Tsuzuki pouted a moment, but sighed. "Okay, fine." The gentle scuffing of their feet against the pavement was the only sound. Nonetheless, the smile was soon on his face again, and he added, "But then we're going to dinner tonight, and you're not getting out of it." He winked, cheerfully, hoping to be rewarded by a light color of the boy's face (he wasn't disappointed.)
"…You're paying." They had reached the alley, and without another word, Hisoka disappeared, back to the world parallel, yet invisible, to the one he now stood in. It hadn't quite been the warm acceptance he would've liked, but it was the general agreement he had expected. Tsuzuki knew now the place Hisoka picked would probably be expensive, and since this wasn't on working hours, he'd be paying for it out of pocket.
The man followed his partner, and only a few moments after getting his bearings, he replied with, "Aw, 'Soka-chan, couldn't you sound a little more excited?" Half a moment later, nearly all of the Summons Department could hear "Don't call me that! You idiot!" They continued, with raised voices and pleading apologies and cajoling as they headed into the office once more.
Yes, Tsuzuki was probably going to spend a good part of his paycheck for wherever it was Hisoka chose to eat, and despite the boy's anger towards him at the moment, and abusiveness in general, he looked forward to it. After all, for Hisoka, a trip out on him was the least he could do, and he only wished the boy would've accepted more. Now, however, wasn't the best time to suggest more time together outside the work area.
Maybe later.
------
A/N: Owari! Sorry for those of you hoping for a kiss, I just never could write those fics where out of no where the love interests start kissing. Really, I think this is cuter anyway. It's abusive! And, yes, you have read a description on what yours truly, Phoenix-chan, and my best friend look like. We're a couple of weirdoes, though it did work to cheer Kistune up! Comment, please, or you'll break my little authoress heart, and I won't write any fics (actual ones, not just the fluffy one/two-shots.)
Ever yours,
Phoenix
