(A/N: I should be updating my in progress Ransuya fic right now. But what did I do? Doramitsu was taking over my shipping mind once again and produced this fic in less than an hour. Inspired by that one panel in manga where Mitsuya is depress and voila an angsty, multi-chaptered Doramitsu fic is born from my end. I don't own anything from this franchise. Respective ownership belongs to Ken Wakui for this wonderful manga. Lastly, rating may change in the future so be prepared).
Chapter 1
By: Aztec999
"Luna! Mana! Didn't I tell you not to accept visitors for today! I'm busy with my work!" A man yelled in a scratchy voice from the inside of his room that made the twins flinched from his doorstep.
"But big brother—."
"I said no Luna! And that's final!" He cut her off harshly.
"O-okay… Got it…" She replied faintly and flicked her sad gaze towards Mana who just sighed in response and headed for the front door and faced the young blond who was standing awkwardly in front of their house.
"I'm sorry Takemichi-kun… Big bro is sort of busy and he doesn't want to be disturb right now… Maybe some other time…" Mana's eyes were serenely downcast as she said this.
"Ah, no no! That's fine! Sorry again for bothering you. If Mitsuya-kun is really busy we don't want to intrude. We will just drop by at some other time when he's not busy." He gave a quick nod of apology and left their doorstep with his companion in tow.
Mana then closed the door and faced Luna with sad smile on her face. "Let's prepare lunch. It's almost 12 noon."
Luna could only nod feebly and followed her twin in the kitchen but not before giving a one last look to the direction of Mitsuya's room in the hallway with a sad, longing expression on her face.
Their older brother seemed to overwork himself once again, but they can't do anything about it. It's one of those days that Mitsuya holed himself inside his room for a few days that turned into weeks with nothing but piles of papers, tons of wasted fabrics, and bottles of alcohol as his companion ever since…
…Luna shook her head.
No. She couldn't dwell on that. They had to be strong for their big brother.
For the remainder of his life, he always took care of them and assume the responsibility of being the eldest sibling and second parent to them even if he was pursuing his lifelong dream of being a well-known fashion designer around the world.
He always put other people first before his own needs and wants.
And now was the right time to be his right shoulder to lean on even each day proved to be difficult in taking care of their own brother when he was like this…
Luna took a deep breath and went inside the kitchen, helping Mana to prepare their lunch.
It was going to be a long day ahead.
"Let me introduce to you the Spring/Fall collection from one of our rising ingenue artists, Mitsuya Takashi." The male host announced before the lights went dim and the only spotlight remained was on the catwalk.
Soon the models started to strut professionally with Mitsuya's design that were dazzling and vibrant.
Mitsuya couldn't help as a proud smile inched across his lips.
Until…
…one of the models had a wardrobe malfunction and one of his dresses were torn apart that made his eyes wide as saucers.
Soon, some of the models began floundering and fell on the catwalk like pieces of dominoes.
He was about to get up and help them when he overheard a harsh set of whispers from the background that made him froze in an instant.
"Do you see this kind of atrocity in front of us? I mean he was a rising fashion designer, but dear heavens look at the clothes!"
"Indeed. I wouldn't be caught wearing something like that."
"Simply outdated and no originality."
"I can't believe that this kind of collection was included in this event."
"Disgusting I know."
Mitsuya's breath quickened, and he could feel his heart shattering into tiny, little pices with every mockery and disdain that he heard.
He wanted to move.
He wanted to speak.
He wanted to run away.
He wanted to—."
Mitsuya suddenly shot up from the bed, breathing raggedly as beads of sweat ran down from his face and body.
"Fuck. It's just a goddamn dream." He closed his eyes as a bitter smile inched across his lips.
Damn this to hell.
Why can't he have a one, peaceful moment of sleep where he could drown this fucked up reality temporarily?
Dis fate decided to play cruel tricks on him once again that even in his slumber he couldn't even get a goddamn rest?
He opened his eyes once again and went to his bedside table where he reached for the bottle of whiskey and opened it. He didn't bother to pour it on the glass as he went straight ahead and drank it like a dying man on a dessert.
For a moment, a fire went through his throat at the sizzling sensation of the alcohol traipsing inside his body.
Then…
…the numbness would soon envelope his entire being as if he was being suspended into a void of nothingness.
And for a while…
He welcomed the empty feeling that shrouded his heart.
This was easier to deal with rather than the blinding pain that would consume every fiber of his being when he's being sober anyway.
He placed the wrench inside his toolbox before he stood up and dusted himself off.
"You sure that no one's answering the given numbers?" Draken asked Inupi as he finally faced him.
"Nope. And his bike was sitting here for more than 2 weeks now. It's already been fixed. I would've called the tow if no one is claiming but this guy already paid at least 70% of the down payment as a deposit so at the very least we know that the owner still wants to get it." Inupi replied with a shrug.
"Okay. Gimme the address and I'll be the one who will visit his place and let him know about the status of his bike." Draken grabbed a small towel from the chair to wipe off the grease and dirt from his arms.
"You sure Draken? I mean I could do that—."
"Nah. That's fine. Go take your lunch and man the shop for a while. Won't take long for me to do so anyway." He gave him a reassuring smile and a quick thumbs up.
"Okay. Whatever you say boss. Here's the calling card he gave me the other week." He handed it to him before he left him.
Draken read the words with a curious and intrigued expression on his face.
"Mitsuya Takshi huh?" Draken muttered as his eyes glossed over the name that was embossed in black, golden texts with the position and other pertinent details indicated below including his home address.
"Assistant Fashion Designer…" A low whistle slipped past from his lips.
His usual, ordinary day might not so be ordinary today after all.
(A/N: Reviews are intriguing so let me hear them from you).
