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Satisfaction

Chapter 6

By Miki

Atobe watched Yuuta with interest.

Jirou had said that the less pieces of cutlery on the table, the better, but Atobe suspected the way Yuuta was squirming and looking nervous had nothing to do with the number of utensils on the table.

Truth be told, he was looking a lot more like a mouse right now than Fuji ever had, and Atobe sighed as Yuuta thanked the waiter – again – as he refilled his glass of water. It was Yuuta's third in about ten minutes, and Atobe was sure he'd be running to the bathroom for the rest of the night if he kept it up.

"You can stop thanking him, you know," Atobe mentioned dryly, watching Yuuta fidget and look around.

"Ah… yes," came the quick answer, Yuuta's eyes snapping back to Atobe, who sighed in resignation and put down his menu.

He sat back in his chair and regarded Yuuta for a moment, wondering what on earth he'd been thinking when he'd imagined a nice, mutually agreeable meal.

"Would you like to change restaurant?"

Yuuta shook his head.

Atobe sighed again, closing his eyes and massaging his temple.

He wasn't a mind reader, but apparently he was going to try.

"What is it then? Is it the chair? You don't like this table? You want a different drink? You're famished and you can't hold a semi-decent conversation until you get some sustenance?" Atobe said somewhat snappishly.

"Actually," Yuuta began, and Atobe could see he was hesitating.

"Go on."

"Um… Well, I… can't read the menu."

"You can't read the menu," Atobe repeated, looking down at the offending menu.

There was nothing weird about it as far as he could see – aperitifs and entrees, mains and desserts. The wine list sat in the centre of the table, untouched.

"Do you need reading glasses?" he finally asked.

Yuuta's cheeks turned pink. "No… I… It's in French."

Atobe frowned and looked at the menu again.

"You can't read French?" he enquired, raising an eyebrow.

What sort of deprived education were the students given at St Rudolph, he wondered.

Yuuta gave a shake of his head, squirming as Atobe all but glared at him. It would have been fine anywhere else – the tennis courts even, because they'd be on a level playing field there. But they weren't on court; they were in a fancy French restaurant with fancy French menus he couldn't read and he was still wondering why Atobe had dragged him out because he'd never had anything to do with Atobe before and all of a sudden, he felt like he was being stalked and this was almost as embarrassing as eating out with Aniki, except that Atobe wasn't doing weird things with his hands where people couldn't see.

Yuuta's head was spinning.

"Well, there's nothing for it," Atobe finally replied and frowned a little. "Someone will just have to read it to you."

Yuuta opened his mouth to protest, but Atobe had already snapped his fingers and the waiter was walking over.

(S)

"Syuusuke?" Yumiko asked, concern in her voice.

Her brother had been sitting in the same spot for about ten minutes, not saying anything, not doing anything but frowning.

"Syuusuke? Are you okay?" she asked again, petting him on the head as she walked past to turn on the TV.

Fuji looked up, his expression serious.

"Yuuta didn't answer his phone."

Yumiko smiled, shaking her head. "He's probably eating dinner right now."

"Mizuki answered it."

"Oh? I hope you weren't too mean to him, Syuusuke," Yumiko teased.

Fuji sat back, looking tired, ignoring his sister's comment. "He said Yuuta was out."

"He was… out," Yumiko repeated, curious about the emphasis on the last word. "Perhaps he has… I don't know… extracurricular activities? An excursion perhaps?"

Fuji shook his head. "No, not that kind of out. I think he meant that Yuuta was out with someone."

"Oh Syuusuke," Yumiko laughed, sitting down next to him on the sofa. "Yuuta can look after himself. I'm sure if you ask him later, he'll tell you all about it."

Her brother's expression didn't change, and Yumiko shook her head, hiding her amusement.

"At least he's not out with Mizuki," she offered, trying to lighten up the mood.

Fuji opened his eyes and looked at her. "He could be out with someone worse."

Yumiko blinked. "Who are you thinking of?"

Fuji shrugged. "No one in particular… But there's been a lot of garbage floating around lately, hasn't there?"

Yumiko gave her brother an uneasy look.

She'd never considered before that there were people Syuusuke disliked more than Mizuki Hajime, and she couldn't help but worry a little as she got up and walked into the kitchen.

Syuusuke had reacted badly enough when he'd been confronted with Yuuta's adoration for his manager.

Maybe she should give Yuuta a little warning…

(S)

Atobe took a sip of his drink and looked across at Yuuta.

This was just becoming ridiculous.

"Look," he said, putting his glass down and staring across at the boy. "I didn't invite you here so that I could merely look at you."

"…"

"No matter what anyone else says, you're not exactly model material, are you?"

If he had wanted to look at someone aesthetically pleasing – good bone structure, perfectly balanced features and blemish-free skin – he could have stayed home and looked in the mirror.

Yuuta seemed confused at Atobe's answer, and eventually frowned, giving Atobe an odd sort of stare.

"So why am I here anyway?"

Atobe creased his brow in irritation. "I already told you that, didn't I? I wanted to eat dinner and I wanted a companion. Of course, under normal circumstances, the socially acceptable thing to do would be to have a half-decent conversation while we both pretend to be interested in whatever we're talking about while waiting for our dinner, and then of course once we'd eaten dinner, we'd keep up the act for a good half-hour longer before making excuses and escaping via the front door."

Yuuta took a moment to process Atobe's words, and then grinned.

Atobe Keigo. Oh. He was having dinner with Atobe Keigo at a freaking French restaurant which probably cost an arm and a leg and Atobe seriously looked like it was the worst thing on earth.

Maybe it was.

"You must have a lot of boring dinner companions."

"Indeed," Atobe said with a roll of his eyes and a flick of his hair. "Now hurry up and tell me something half-interesting before you become one of them."

That was… unexpected, he thought, watching Yuuta.

He realised snapping at people over the dinner table was hardly good manners, but he didn't have a perfect temper, and he'd half expected Yuuta to snap back as well.

Maybe it was just because he hadn't expected it, but it made Atobe feel awkward, so he tried to push aside the feeling. It wasn't as though he showed his feelings on his face though, so he had no worries that Yuuta would think he was anything but absolutely bored.

He'd practised a lot since it was a useful skill to have.

Yuuta blinked at the demand.

"Interesting? What's interesting to you?"

Atobe waved his hand. "Oh I don't know… Have you read Miller's 'Death of a Salesman' yet?"

Yuuta looked suddenly sheepish, and Atobe presumed the answer was a no.

"I did… I had to ask Mizuki for help and it took a whole two days," Yuuta said, feeling stupid.

He didn't actually know much about Atobe, but he guessed the other aced most of his subjects. He seemed really confident at any rate, though that could just be the ego talking.

If egos could talk, Atobe's would have a megaphone and a satellite system.

"You read it?"

Yuuta tilted his head slightly as he gave Atobe an inquisitive look. "Yeah, what else was I supposed to do with it?"

Atobe paused in replying. He supposed Yuuta had a point… of sorts… "I'm just surprised," he said, smiling a little. "You don't seem the studious type."

"I'm not," Yuuta returned blankly.

Atobe tilted his head, watching Yuuta still and waiting for him to elaborate.

"Mizuki found out my English grade and it was either reading the book or running a couple hundred laps as punishment." Yuuta continued blankly.

Atobe smirked, trying really hard to hide the twitch at the corner of his lips threatening to become a smile.

Luckily he didn't have to hold his expression for much longer because their entrées arrived a moment later.

"Soupe à l' oignon," the waiter announced, placing a bowl in front of Yuuta.

Yuuta eyed his bowl, picking up his spoon and immediately poking around in the thick liquid, half expecting something odd to jump out at him.

"What?" Atobe asked, rolling his eyes. "There's nothing in there but onion."

Yuuta felt his cheeks pinken a bit, embarrassed to be caught out. "I know, I just…"

He tried to ignore Atobe's stare, and concentrated on looking at Atobe's dish instead.

Casserole d'escargots, as the waiter had said.

That was French for 'those slimy things that crunch when you step on them, and belong on the bottom of your shoes not on the top of your tongue.'

Yuuta suppressed a shudder.

"If you really wanted a snail so badly, you ought to have ordered one," Atobe drawled, interpreting Yuuta's intense stare as one of severe hunger.

"Er, no thank you," Yuuta said hurriedly, stumbling over his words in his effort to make sure Atobe didn't do anything like…

Oh no.

He watched as Atobe rather disdainfully picked up one of the little, slimy-looking things and placed it at the edge of his bread plate.

Oh.

No.

"No, I really… I…" Yuuta trailed off, staring across at Atobe, his mouth partially open.

There was a snail on his plate.

A de-shelled, dead, cooked, buttered, covered in garlic snail.

Atobe smiled. Of course, Yuuta had probably never dined in a restaurant like this before. It was only natural he'd be curious about the foods of the elite.

Jirou had said Atobe should be kind, and certainly sharing his entrée with Yuuta counted as being nice, particularly when he was sure Yuuta would never appreciate the taste of a fine garden snail as much as he would.

Pallets needed to be trained for the finer things in life, after all.

(S)

"Do you have a curfew?"

Atobe's voice interrupted Yuuta's thoughts, and he answered automatically.

"Around nine-thirty."

Atobe nodded. "I'll have my driver take you back by then."

Yuuta muttered a small thanks and put a forkful of steak into his mouth. He felt obliged to say thanks, but it was pretty weird considering he'd been dragged out of the dorm by Atobe in the first place.

He still didn't know why either.

It was really bothering him, but Atobe wasn't going to answer him, so he'd given up asking.

The stupid thing was, he was almost having a good time, apart from the snail, that was. He'd pushed it into the bottom of his soup when Atobe wasn't looking, and the small bits of onion and garnish he hadn't eaten had provided camouflage for it when the waiter had taken the bowl away.

He figured if he ever really wanted to eat a snail, he could always find one in the garden.

Aniki would probably offer to help him look.

(S)

Yuuta watched the streets pass as the limousine approached St Rudolph and the familiar school walls and buildings came into sight.

Atobe was sitting opposite him. His eyes were closed, his head tilted back, and Yuuta almost thought he was asleep until he spoke.

"Am I to assume you have tennis practise every day of the week?"

"Except Sundays," Yuuta replied. "Why?"

"So you go home on the weekends?"

"Sometimes… Why?"

"Are you going to the library next week?"

Yuuta gave a bemused smile. "Er… Do you mind telling me why you're asking?"

Atobe frowned before opening his eyes and staring intently at Yuuta for another moment or so. "Must I have a reason?"

Yuuta stared back. "Er…"

"Well actually, I was just thinking that there's another restaurant I've been meaning to try out, so if you're free next week I can pick you up from the library and we can go out for dinner."

Yuuta blinked. "Me?"

Atobe gave a flick of his hair, pursing his lips. "Well, yes. I'm not talking to anyone else, am I?"

Yuuta rubbed at the back of his neck self-consciously. "Ah, yeah…"

Though that didn't stop him from looking around the limo, just to be sure.

"So?" Atobe prompted, impatiently.

Yuuta hesitated a little longer, only muttering an okay as they reached the dormitory and the limousine slowed to a complete stop.

Atobe seemed satisfied enough with that answer, because he tilted his head towards the door as it was opened by the driver.

"You can get out now."

Yuuta did so.

A card was tossed his way a moment later, and he caught it, flicking it over to read it.

"Don't lose it," Atobe instructed, waving his hand.

A moment later, the driver shut the door and Yuuta bowed his head, mumbling his "good night" to no one in particular.

Then he turned and walked back into the dormitory building, staring down at the card Atobe had given him. Looking around quickly to check no one was watching, he raised the card to his nose and took a sniff.

He was right; it was perfumed.

Aniki had once said that rich people came from another planet entirely.

Yuuta was starting to think he had a point.

(S)

Yuuta was starting to feel those ten glasses of water.

The if-I-don't-make-it-to-the-bathroom-in-tw o-seconds-something-bad-is-going-to-happ en type of feeling.

As he ran along the corridor to his room, he realised there was someone outside his bedroom door.

Mizuki.

"How was it, Yuuta? You're in such a hurry to see me! How nice of you, Yuu-"

Mizuki couldn't even finish off his sentence as Yuuta pushed him out of the way, ran into his room and into the bathroom and slammed the door with a bang.

Mizuki chuckled and curled a strand of hair around his finger.

"That bad, huh?"

.tbc.