Title: Normally Yuki
Chapter 3: Kanna Mizuki's Proposition
Fandom: Gravitation
Disclaimer: I don't own Gravitation or anything else mentioned in this story.
"Good afternoon Ms. Mizuki!" Eiri greeted his long time editor with a bright smile and a friendly handshake. Her eyes filled with pity and her expression was carved deep with sympathy, the expression irked Eiri in ways he didn't want to think about. He wouldn't let it get to him, dammit! She loosely returned his handshake with a small smile and a quiet word of greeting before they took their seats.
The Bari coffeehouse was the regular meeting place of both author and editor. It was a quaint little place, with an outdoor patio and a well varied selection of world javas all located in the heart of a busy ward drowning in a sea of humans. The coffeehouse was the perfect place to meet, with all the hustle and bustle nobody stopped long enough to notice that the Eiri Yuki was sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee.
One time the two had attempted a meeting at a place a bit less noisy and a bit less crowded, and much to their dismay it hadn't worked. The media spotted him immediately and he was forced to flee like a little piggy all the way home. Mizuki, the evil wench, laughed her head off whenever the incident was recalled, but Eiri had leveled his best Glare of Death at her and she kept quiet. Though, the wench still couldn't help but chuckle every now and then, neglecting to notice the glares he gave her.
Eiri didn't bother to look at the menu; he would order his usual coffee, Sumatran black and no sugar. Perhaps, if he was feeling sociable he would call over a waitress and flutter his lashes placing an order for some strawberry cheesecake before the poor girl turned into a puddle of goo and had to be moped off the floor. The image was rather funny and he chuckled under his breath, eying the waitresses under a veiled gaze, picking his hapless victim with calculation. Being evil was frickin' fun.
"So how are you doing Mr. Yuki?" Mizuki smiled politely and placed an order for her usual mango milkshake. He knew this game. Smiling rather inanely he responded with the required, "Just fine and you?"
She would go through the normal pleasantries and he would respond in kind and then they would commence with business and usual. Well, to be frank he use to just grunt in response to her questions, she was quite startled when the first time he was actually polite to her. If he remembered, which he didn't because it never mattered to him in the first place, he started being polite to her the day after Shuichi left. Not that he remembered.
"Oh doing well. Work has been picking up so there's never a moment of rest." They laughed together as if sharing a private joke, but the laughter quickly died down and Eiri looked up to see a hurried waitress set his coffee down and hightail to her next task.
"Ah yes. I certainly know the feeling." Another waitress came by and dropped off the milkshake nearly spilling the damn thing in her haste before toddling off as well. The little black and white colored waitresses all reminded him of penguins on crack. Ah, that was funny! Crack hyper penguins marching around in their little tuxedos like the white rabbit from Alice in Wonderland. Biting back a giggle, a very manly giggle at that, he filed the thought away for later so that he could laugh hysterically at the wall... or something.
Damn, being lonely made you crazy!
After the regular conversation, they fell into silence. An unwarranted tension seeped into the air and Eiri cleared his throat uncomfortably, shifting in his seat. Taking a sip of luke warm coffee, he watched as brooding clouds rolled off of Mizuki's aura as she stared intently at the table, thinking very hard about something.
"So ," he raised a brow as her less than confident words were spoken, "have you thought about S-Sh-Sh, um..." Sh? Ah, he knew where this question was heading, but he didn't want to hear it.
Had he been thinking about Mr. Shindou lately? As in the hottest pop star since Nittle Grasper came around? Not that he would admit to. Especially not to Kanna Mizuki, the chit was not his therapist. And most certainly not when she was going to start a conversation about his thinking about his ex-boyfriend who walked out on him one year two months and three- ah wait, seven days ago.
Something akin to annoyance began to bubble up from deep within and he pointedly glared at a random spot beyond her shoulder. Pursing his lips, he slowly counted backwards from ten, something he was informed would lower his stress and temper levels. Ten, nine, eight, seven...
Twiddling her fingers, she glanced around nervously, obviously something that she didn't want to happen was about to happen. His heart dropped into his stomach and he could feel the beating organ against his lower intestines. It was not a good feeling. Something bad was going to happen. Something really bad. He gave up counting and looked down to his drink, thinking, "Damn, how did I fuck up this time?"
The tension became so thick he was almost worried it would ooze into his coffee. That's when Mizuki jostled about reaching down to her bag and pulled out a manila envelope, treating it like it held a plastic explosive. She was careful to make sure that even the condensation from her milkshake didn't touch the package, even a smidgen. Usually she wouldn't care if a package got a tiny bit wet, but this was different.
The alarm bells were ringing and he was positive that the world just might come to an end. He watched Mizuki as she carefully pushed down the metal tabs of a manila envelope, making sure the contents were secure. She gazed at it wistfully, then peered up at him through her bangs, her eyes wishing she didn't have to do the task at hand. Eiri frantically searched his mind for a reason to why Mizuki should be worried before he gave himself another ulcer.
Did he upset the publishing house? No, his last two books had sold like hot cakes and the book of poetry and the erotic novel, though under a different pen name, sold equally well. Did he upset the publishing house in terms of public performance? No, he had been polite and courteous with all those who interviewed him, even if his fist was itching to pound each head into the wall, especially when they asked him with compassionate concern if the break up had been difficult for him. Eiri decided that hell had frozen over the day the media began to care about his change in attitude.
Had the paparazzi caught wind of something inappropriate? No, he had stayed away from drinking, gambling, ladies, and the gents. His mind came up blank to the reasons why Mizuki would be a bundle of twitches right now. Or maybe it was personal issue for her. Maybe, but he didn't think so. Hesitantly she handed him the package, her fingers quivering ever so slightly. Eiri was sure if he wasn't a writer, i.e. trained to pick up on details, then he wouldn't have noticed her nervousness.
He accepted the package, lightweight though it was, and wondered what on earth could make his fearless editor cower in fright. An undetectable smile graced his lips as he recalled the time she had broken the lock of his house and nearly choked him out when he was a week late with a manuscript. Mizuki, amazing woman that she was, wasn't the slightest bit afraid of him. So what was causing her nervousness now? Carefully lifting the metal tabs he opened up the envelope to examine its contents. Eiri noticed a thin stack of papers, no more than twenty pages, was stapled together, a cover page on top, with professional bearing he removed the papers from the envelope.
The cover page was in fact a title page, a large title smack dab in the middle reading: Kissies After Dark. Kissie wha-? Eiri faltered as his eyes skimmed over the page trying to find who in their right mind would write such an offensive title and ah-hah! There it was! It was right below the obnoxious title. A name, a beautiful, symphonic name printed in twelve font burned each character into his mind and his breath caught in his chest as his sinuses began to feel tight with the tell tale beginning of tears: Shuichi Shindou.
Damn, the world really was coming to an end.
Thank you for reading!
Preview: Chapter 4 Schemes of the Rich and Famous