Disclaimer- I do not, have not, and will not own Beyblade, only my ideas.
Summary- Yu's room is a complete mess and Tsubasa's had enough.
Spotless.
That was what Tsubasa had told him. So Yu sat crossed legged in one of the few bare patches of flooring, contemplating the word.
"He wants me to clean my room," Yu rocked back and forth. "But who's he to tell me what to do! If I don't want to clean it I shouldn't have to. Besides it's not like it's his room. It's mine! Mine, mine, mine, mine! And I like it this way!" Yu continued to pout, crossing his arms stubbornly.
Groaning he stood up and flopped onto his polka dot sheeted bed. But he did live with Tsubasa. It was his house.
"He wouldn't kick me out. Would he?" Yu questioned himself, remembering all the times he had caused an over abundance of mischief. Like the time Tsubasa left him alone and he ate all the ice cream but forgot that he had spilt some on the carpet. It still had a light stain on it. Or the time he wanted to try the guitar amplifier and snuck out of his room in the middle of the night and accidentally turned the volume all the way up, effectively waking up half the block. And he couldn't forget the time he tried washing the clothes and put the reds in with the whites... Tsubasa wasn't too happy about having to wear a pink shirt until he could find a new one. Yu had found it extremely hilarious, especially because he put his white clothes in a different load.
The young orange haired kid didn't have to continue his list. He got the point.
But spotless... How was he going to do what Tsubasa said without cleaning his room? He hummed in thought.
Spotless.
Spot. Less.
Without spots.
He glanced at his bed sheet... "A room without spots," he murmured.
Swinging himself upwards, a mischievous smirk crept across his face. That was the answer. The definition of spotless, or rather, Yu's definition of spotless, was exactly the solution he had been looking for. And he realized quite quickly there was another definition that he could use to his advantage.
"Boy will Tsubasa be surprised," Yu stifled a giggle behind a small hand.
Tsubasa blew on his steaming mug of tea. He should really check on Yu.
A nagging feeling had been bugging him for a while now and it was a familiar one. It was identical to the one he had had when he went to bed the night Yu had tried using the amplifier, only to leave the eagle blader half deaf for a week. Tsubasa shook his head. It still amazed him that Yu, who had been the closest to the amp, could still hear without any difficulties.
Taking a sip of his drink, he set it down on the coffee table. That was it. Yu had been way too quiet and hadn't made much of a fuss after he had told him to clean his room.
Spotless. That was the term he had used, and he sure hoped Yu had for once listened to him.
He strode into the hallway and paused before the first door. Knocking twice, he opened it.
What he saw made him freeze.
There was Yu, situated on top of a mound of stuffies, flipping through the pages of the comic. Sprawled out around the boy was every toy, book, and object the kid owned, leaving no spot of carpet visible.
Then his eyes drifted fearfully to the once polka dotted bed sheets. They were completely black, a sharpie lay open on Yu's pillow and dark smudge marks had discoloured the boy's fingers.
Seeing Tsubasa in the doorway, Yu waved a cheery hello. "Hey, Tsubasa! What's up? I did as you asked. Spot. Less," Yu grinned cheekily.
Tsubasa groaned. He was going to have to re-evaluate his word choice.
AN- This one shot was created when I contemplated all the times I had been told to clean my room. I realized the word "spotless" is a consistently used term to describe what parents want your room to look like. So I continued to ponder the word until I came up with the conclusion that Yu did. You can have room without spots, as in polka dot spots, or have no spots on which you can stand without stepping on something. I, personally, like that conclusion.