I can't decide which I hate to be woken up by more- the phone or the light pouring through Tsukishima's windows. Grumbling to myself, I roll over and bury my head into my pillow, trying to drown out the sight and the sound until I remember just who could be calling.
I'm sad to say that the could is enough incentive to drag me out from under my blanket and for me to call out, "I'll get it!" to Tsukishima, who I can hear tripping out of bed in his own room. I have no idea why he bothers to keep a home phone, since no one ever really calls him on it except for me when I need to. I pluck the device up and open my mouth to ask who's calling as casually as possible.
Before I can even get the first syllable out, a voice begins to talk in a tone that is painfully peppy for first thing in the morning.
"Hello, Tsuki-kun? It's Psyche, from yesterday! I heard your signing went really well, so congratulations!" A peal of laughter resonates through the receiver. "Well, now that that meany Roppi-chan isn't there, we can discuss your transfer! I have all the paperwork ready, so-"
My finger is pressing on the button to hang up before I even realize that it was probably one of the worst things I could do. Go me, proving Psyche's assessment right; I couldn't even stand to let Tsukishima talk to him.
"Who was it?" The writer is suddenly right behind me, yawning and rubbing sleepily at his eyes. He's still in his pajamas, and his hair is sticking off slightly to one side. I'm disgusted only because my first thought is that he looks cute and that just makes no sense at all.
"Wrong number," My lie is delivered stiffly, and I frown, knowing that I probably look vaguely pissed off and it won't get past Tsukishima. The fabrication will be disproven in a minute anyways, when Psyche calls back. I didn't even think about that when cutting him off. Frustration will do that to me- tear holes in my judgment.
The phone in my hand rings again, and I hand it over to Tsukishima and glance away. Staring at me in befuddlement, he bites his lip slightly and answers it.
"H...-Hello?" Suddenly, his mouth curls into a shy grin. "Oh, Tsugaru! How are you? Ah, sorry for missing it, I need to charge my cell phone." And just by that one name, relief washes over me. Tsugaru is one of Tsukishima's author friends. He's not a part of either company, and he's not as big as Tsukishima is, but he's a great writer and I've tried to recommend him to Izaya once or twice. Unlike others, he's perfectly fine with being little-known. "I can head out there this afternoon, if that's alright?" My gaze is drawn inexplicably to the dock of the phone as Tsukishima makes what I assume are plans for a visit.
The small, glowing green screen shows that while the blonde is chatting with Tsugaru, he's missing another call from Psyche.
I decide then and there that out of all authors, Tsugaru has to be my second favorite.
"I'm going to visit Tsugaru at around three," Tsukishima informs me after getting off the phone, and I nod my approval, mentally reviewing his schedule and finding nothing. Luckily for me he didn't notice the missed call, and Psyche seems to have given up for now. I only hope that it won't be today that he tries to get in touch with Tsukishima again. "Um, but Roppi-san, can I talk to you about the thing yesterday with-"
"Are you hungry?" It's childish of me to stick fast to the belief that if I don't give him a chance to speak, he won't be able to do anything, but I can't stop myself from jumping to change the subject. "It's probably around breakfast time."
"Well, yes, but..." Tsukishima drops the issue just as I hoped that he would, even though I feel a bit guilty at his troubled countenance. I list off our meal possibilities, all the while wondering; when did this business get so complicated?
:
Tsuki didn't get to visit with Tsugaru as much as he would have liked to. More often than not, their schedules were conflicting, due mostly to Tsuki's rising fame. It made the blonde feel a small bit at fault that he was the one who'd gained fans quickly, and not Tsugaru, who'd been writing for a good number of years longer than he had. The author's house was teeming with animals- Tsuki had never bothered to ask how many roamed the property that Tsugaru had inherited on the outskirts of the city, but he was fairly certain that once he'd counted out six dogs, four cats, five birds and a rabbit.
Once, a while ago, Tsuki had worked up to bravado to inquire as to why Tsugaru kept them all instead of giving them away. The older man had merely chuckled lightly and explained that he didn't exactly know. He just felt more comfortable being surrounded by animals, he said. Tsuki could understand that; he didn't think he'd be able to write without the sounds of Ikebukuro humming around him. One of Tsugaru's ginger felines was draped across his lap as he typed leisurely on a compact blue laptop. Tsuki could hear the animal purring from his position next to the writer, and he made an attempt to peer at the prose on the screen as inconspicuously as he could.
"What are you working on?" Tsuki's curiosity finally won out.
"I'll be done in a second, I promise," Tsugaru answered apologetically. In an absentminded motion he scratched the cat behind the ear, still typing with his other hand. The animal looked all the more blissful and arched its neck into its owner's fingers.
Tsuki shook his head. "No, it's okay, I don't mind." He liked the sound of typing. Maybe it was a little weird, but he found it to be calming, just like Roppi calmed him down all the time. Tsuki wondered what his manager was doing now, even though it was highly probable that he was sleeping, since he'd asked if he could stay at Tsuki's apartment while he was out. He really hoped that Roppi hadn't been considerate enough to use the couch again. After all, if Tsuki wasn't using his bed, then he had free reign of it, right?
He flushed at the thought. Tsugaru glanced at him with a smile, but said nothing about it.
"Alright. I'm finished." Instantly Tsuki perked up, startling the cat a bit, who stared coldly at him in a way that reminded him of Roppi in proven situations. "You seem like you have something you want to talk about," Tsugaru went on to observe, not unkindly.
Tsuki hesitated. Yes, he did have something he wanted to get his friend's advice on, but it wasn't often that he confided his worries to other people and he didn't know if Tsugaru would be bothered by him. "Um..."
"Did YS Publishing start trying to recruit you? It's about time they did."
Blinking, Tsuki mused to himself that Tsugaru could be scarily intuitive. "I'm sorry..."
"What? Don't apologize, you deserve it."
"Thank you, but...I don't really know what I'm going to do about it yet."
"Oh, I'm not saying you need to do anything about it," Tsugaru laughed, pushing his laptop away without disturbing the cat. "It just means you've gotten really good."
"Should I switch companies?" Tsuki frowned worriedly. He'd done his research, and the two firms seemed to be on about the same level of reliability for writers. The blonde sort of wanted to try something new, but...
"Work wherever you're comfortable," Tsugaru said, "I've heard good things about both Dollars and YS."
He thought on that, mumbling, "I'm...comfortable with Roppi-san, though."
"Maybe a little too comfortable?" Tsuki began immediately to protest until he saw that the light in Tsugaru's eyes was only teasing. "Have you talked to him about it?"
"It seems like he won't let me," confessed Tsuki, mentally wincing.
Tsugaru sighed and shook his head, although he wore a grin. "Then don't let him stop you."
:
It's been about three hours since Tsukishima left for Tsugaru's, and I am bored out of my mind. I've never been one for television, so I don't even strain myself to turn the device on. I resort to sitting and staring at a wall for about ten minutes, but am quickly disinterested in that, as all humans are inclined to be when not in action. Locating the blonde's copy of 'Romeo and Juliet' only serves to entertain me for a half an hour.
'A plague on both your houses', indeed. I snort. Stupid publishing firms and their rivalries. I carefully replace the book onto my author's bookshelf.
I won't deny that the reason that I asked Tsukishima if I could stay at his apartment while he was gone was so that I could be there when he got back. The only thing left to do while I waited would be to sleep, which, thinking of it now, might have been the best idea all along. I glance at the couch, and then over to Tsukishima's bedroom door. His bed is most likely much more cozy, and he would never know if I chose to take a nap there. I'm contemplating whether if I turn my head just so into his pillow if it will smell exactly like him or not- and as soon as my imagination arrives at that thought, I'm arranging covers and pillows that smell only like clean and detergent around myself.
Just because I am human and have human emotions doesn't mean that I have to give in to them, but I don't take consolation in the fact that I'm just being more human by being stubborn.
I'm at the point where I'm feeling drowsy that a series of knocks is thumped on Tsukishima's door. Thump-thud-a-dump-dump, thump-thump.
Taking advice from my experience of never having heard an adult knock on a door in a rhythm like that, I assume that it's some kid and don't even twitch from my comfortable cocoon of warmth. The beats come again, louder this time. Only when they announce themselves a third time do I growl and extricate my limbs from the pile. It can't be Tsukishima; his knocking is soft and timid, as if he's afraid of disturbing the person on the other side. I swing open the doorway and smooth down the bed head I've acquired.
Oh, hell.
"Roppi-chan?" chirps Psyche, peering at me curiously. "What are you doing here? Is Tsuki-kun there? I decided to come check on him, you know, after he picked up the phone and all I heard was someone breathing, and then poof, nothing! I even tried to call back o make sure he was okay," the dark-haired man babbles, and something about the calculating edge to his smile has me thinking that he knows exactlywho it was that hung up on him.
"He's not here right now," I say with forced calm.
Psyche's eyes widen in surprise. "Oh? He lets you stay here while he's out? That's awfully trusting, isn't it? I mean, I've never seen a manager and an author so close before! That's really great! I'm almost sorry he's going to transfer, Roppi-chan," he adds, gazing at me mournfully.
I offer a tight-lipped smile in response, placing a steady hand on the doorframe. "You don't know that yet."
"Maybe, but you don't know if he's going to stay, either," Psyche replies amiably, shifting from one foot to the other. "Say, Roppi-chan, you're pretty territorial, aren't you? Managers don't usually go this far," he muses, "but I guess if I had a great author like Tsuki-kun I wouldn't want to let others reap the benefits either."
Stiffening immediately, I'm certain that my stare is icy. "That's not why-" I cut myself off; it would be stupid of me to let slip my reasons for wanting to keep Tsukishima to an enemy. It's too late, though, because understanding is dawning in the other's expression.
"Well, that's interesting! Roppi-chan, now I'm really sorry I have to take him away. But don't worry; he probably won't miss you too much!"
And that statement delivered with such cheer is too much for me to stand, too much for me to let slide. "He was mine first,"I hiss, shoulders tensed, and it's so cliché that Psyche is the first person to hear this out loud that the one thing that could possibly make it worse would be for Tsukishima to turn the corner just in time to hear me say it.
Which, of course, he does.