AN:
There are no suitable excuses.
I have tons, don't get me wrong.
However, none are worthy, and I apologize.
(It wouldn't have felt right writing Ayame without cross-dressing involved. I'm sorry T^T)
"I'm home!"
A loud crash like metal falling on tile sounded from the kitchen, followed by Shigure's "Ah, Yuki! A little help here...?" Yuki set his bag down by the front door and toed off his shoes, nodding for Kyo to do the same. The boy scowled but did so anyway, revealing bare feet beneath the standard school shoes. Somehow, Yuki wasn't surprised.
He was, however, surprised to find Shigure desperately trying to hold back the rest of the pots and pans from joining their fallen brothers on the kitchen floor. That drawer had always given him difficulties, and only Tohru seemed to be able to access it without creating a huge mess.
We should probably organize it some time...
Yuki opened up the fridge, largely ignoring Shigure's plight. "What are you doing, Shigure? You and I both know that you can't cook." Kyo reached in past his arm for the milk, hopping up on the counter to take a chug straight from the carton. Yuki ignored him – he didn't care for milk much himself (and the expiration date had passed a few days ago, besides).
"What a cruel nephew I have, not even helping his poor old uncle... We're family, Yuki!" The man's leg twitched from all the weight he was putting on it – the pots were held in a high up drawer, and holding them in he needed to stand on one leg to reach – and he looked about ready to cry. Granted, Shigure always looked about ready to cry, so this was nothing new. Then, in a last-ditch plea, "Help an old man, Kyo?"
Kyo scowled back at him, before sniffing the contents of the milk jug. "This milk's old. Keep your food fresh, stupid."
"Our sweet flower should be on her way home right about now. I suppose I could call her and tell her that mean-old Kyo wants her to turn around go buy a heavy jug of milk to take home—"
"Never mind! Jesus, I'll go get some myself, okay?" The redhead slammed the carton down, and Shigure ducked as drops of creamy liquid sailed through the air.
Yuki sighed as the front door slammed loudly. "Why is he living with us, again?" And for that matter, what happened to the courteous and helpful Kyo that had coerced Shigure's sympathy two days prior? Surely the boy didn't think that he could act like this and still retain a welcome invitation. He took the kitchen towel off its hook and swiped it over the counter, wiping up all the remnants of semi-chunky milk. Yuki gagged. How had he drunk any of that?
Shigure watched his pseudo-nephew clean and leaned back against the island, giving up on the pans and allowing the rest of them to fall to the floor. "He has nowhere else to go. I think... he's probably thankful that wewere the ones to find him. There are a lot of sick and twisted people in this world." And then, whining, "Just to imagine our poor Tohru-dear taken in by some old pervert – it breaks my heart!"
"You arean old pervert. Besides, there are places for homeless kids. Send him there."
"But he's not homeless now, he has us!"
"He's not your responsibility, Shigure."
His uncle let the purposefully cheerful smile fade, and glanced down at the smooth whirls in the granite below large hands. A small folded piece of paper sat innocently by Shigure's thumb, and Yuki recognized it as the origami cat Kyo had made. "It was many years ago when I was first allowed to leave the Sohma main house. Not many Sohmas ever do, you know. I had only just started to feel comfortable with this extended freedom when I heard that your mother had died and that if no one stepped forward, you would be placed in an orphanage. Kana was a great woman, and your father... I had to do it, for those who loved you more than anything but couldn't be there for you. In taking you in, I placed many more restrictions on myself. You weren't my responsibility either, Yuki, but I've never once regretted that decision."
Yuki fought to breathe past the sudden lump of shame in his throat, but before he could apologize, Shigure ruffled his hair gently. "And even though I know that you and Kyo get along about as well as cat and mouse, I can't just abandon him either. I think I might have seen him once before I was allowed to go out on my own, but I didn't like how the head of the family looked at him. I like keeping Kyo here, where I know he isn't getting into any sort of trouble. Anyway," he yawned widely, bearing gleaming teeth in the exaggerated gesture, "Aya should be here any minute for you and Kyo; I wonder what could be taking him?"
"What's that pervert want with us—?"
"Oh, Shigure~!" The bane of Yuki's existence rounded the kitchen corner mid-frolic, irate-looking Kyo practically hissing under his arm. "Look who I found on the way here – that amazing red hair and eyes, this is Yuki's Kyon-kyon, right?" Yuki and Kyo loudly vocalized their objections, Kyo going so far as to bite the arm that held his head against the taller male's side. Ayame gasped and released him, a new sort of gleam alighting in his hazel eyes. "And he's a biter! You better watch yourself in bed with this one, little brother. Oh just look at them, Gure, they're all flustered!"
The cleaning rag dropped to the ground as Yuki gaped, cheeks burning at the implications. "Watch what you say, you damn fool! Someone might actually believe—" Ayame swept him up in a suffocating hug, arms coiling around his neck like a python. He groaned, and allowed his 'older brother' one short brotherly love moment before kicking his ass. It had been months since he had seen him last. To be honest, he was glad a hug was all the man wanted.
"Kyo, I thought you were going out for milk. Did our cute little kitty drink it all on the way home?"
Yuki peered over Ayame's shoulder at Kyo, who was leaning awkwardly against the arched kitchen doorway. Slim fingers were picking at something dark like dirt under his fingernails. The boy gave up any pretense of politeness, and brought a finger up to his mouth to gnaw on. "I didn't make it half a block before Clingy here swooped me up. Thought I was being kidnapped or something..."
Oh, you have no idea...
"Kidnapping? Of course not! My adorable little brother will accompany me of his ownvolition, isn't that right, Yuki-dear?"
"Jump off a cliff."
"You'll go bungee jumping with me, then? The heights are scary but I will do it for love!"
"I'll cut your cord."
"A dual suicide! How romantic, like in Romeo and Juliet! Oh, I love you, Yuki, but I couldn't possibly participate in Sohma-cest. It seems we'll have to find some other way to profess our brotherly love."
"Sohma...?" gagged Yuki.
Shigure sat the last of the wayward pans atop the others in a precarious stack, a leaning tower of cookware, and grinned at his longtime friend. "You mentioned some new outfits...?"
Traitor. See if you get anything for Christmas this year, evil geezer. "That's not necessary. Besides, Kyo and I have homework we need to get to-"
A snort, and Kyo looked back towards Yuki's lone backpack by the front door; he hadn't brought anything with him to school but the clothes on his back and a less than civil attitude. From what Yuki'd gathered, most of the teachers had been intimidated enough not to say anything. He wasn't sure if that lenience would stretch to missing homework assignments, which Kyo was apparently intent on ignoring. "I didn't get any. And don't speak for others."
"That settles it," Ayama cheered, clapping his hands together. "Off we go, little brother!"
Yuki couldn't do much more than grab his shoes up in one hand while Ayame goose-stepped him out the front door and towards the gleaming red sports car, Kyo trailing behind with a vaguely amused look that suggested he'd never been the older man's victim before. Obviously. Most people took off running at the first glance of long silver hair. (There was an unfortunate incident at Yuki's tenth birthday party... He hadn't invited anyone else to the house since.)
He put up a good resistance at the car door - the shop wasn't all that far, no reason to waste gas - Ayame hadn't fallen for it. He grasped both sides of the open door with outstretched arms, kicking when Ayame tried to force him inside - a few good jabs under the ribs had him buckling, and Kyo was shoved inside before Yuki could spring back out. Fortunately for the older Sohma, Yuki didn't want to deal with blood in his teeth and stopped trying to bite him after the childproof locks firmly clicked down.
Kyo turned and stared. "Where the hell did that come from?"
Figures that he would choose now to act like a normal human being. "Ayame's insane, and I really didn't want to have to deal with this right now. It's been a crazy enough day. Give me a little leeway to freak-out at the Devil incarnate."
In the front seat, Ayame made no indication that he had heard them and started the car, peeling away from the driveway at speeds that would put a racecar driver to shame. The occupants in the backseat teetered sideways, before settling in, each looking out their prospective windows. Winter was just around the corner. Already shop windows were beginning to put up advertisements for the holiday season, and the pedestrians outside were swathed in heavier coats and scarves.
Yuki gazed out the window as the building lights flowed past. The cold transparent frame reflected everything back in frosty glowing two-fold, and he allowed himself the moment of relative solitude. Eventually though, he grew weary of the familiar scenery and turned his gaze to the body curled up on the seat next to his. Kyo's feet were tucked up under himself, knees tucked up close to his chest in a way that Yuki knew should be uncomfortable. The boy's face, however, was unusually relaxed, unique crimson eyes gazing sightlessly into the world outside. Fingers tapped out a melody against his thighs.
They arrived at the quaint boutique in hardly any time after shop was situated between a small salon and another clothing shop (this one significantly less disturbing by its distinct lack of Ayame). He had been here many times before and somehow, despite his decrees that he would "never come back again," he managed to get dragged here once every couple months.
Leaves crunched under their feet as they followed the flamboyant man through the unassuming front entrance and into the chaos within.
"Oh good, you're back!"
A dark-haired young woman in a maid costume bowed them inside, before gesturing for them to follow her. They side-stepped many piles of lace and other frilly fabrics, and weaved through several tight spaces between racks to the back of the store. Yuki graciously let Kyo walk in front, allowing himself a quick get-away if his pseudo-brother should decide to get too clingy - and he would. He always did.
They came to a stop under a spotlight that was affixed to the ceiling before a small dressing room. A small, yet very full, rack stood beside it.
The girl smiled widely behind round glasses. "My name is Mine." She tilted her head up slightly, catching the light and leered at the redhead. "And you must be our new model."
Kyo bristled.
Take that, bastard.
"I'm not your fricken' doll," he denied hotly, turning his head away from the girl. "Make Yuki do it. He's the girly one."
You can say that all you want. I'm still several inches taller than you...
Ayame swirled in to the debate, arms aloft. "Ah, but I've already tested out quite a few outfits on my sweet, innocent little brother. Besides, with your short stature and exotic hair, I simply must place you in something..." He snapped his fingers a few times in contemplation.
"Red!" Mine popped out from behind the rack, several different colored dresses clutched in her hands. "Or maybe white... Neutral or warm tones would suit him as well."
Kyo looked ready to bolt, so Ayame looped a deceptively strong arm around his waist to keep him in place. The boy's arms flung about, trying to free himself. "Leggo' me!" He hissed, glaring daggers at the man who only continued to smile back. "I ain't wearing your fricken' dresses!"
He couldn't resist. Call him evil, but it was a sadistic pleasure to see someone else (never mind someone so deserving) deal with Ayame's insanity for once. Still, he was getting a headache from the screaming. "Most of these are considered lingerie, actually. This i sa lingerie shop, after all."
The redhead paled and froze, and in the moment between shock and action, Ayame had wrestled off the boy's shirt and shoes, and flung him into the waiting dressing room. Mine tossed a bundle of red over the plum-colored curtain after him.
"I said I'm not-"
Yuki pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. "Just put on the stupid dress!"
For a moment, everything was silent, then they heard several muttered curses and the tell-tale sound of someone undressing.
Ayame turned to him with a smirk. "You've got your boy whipped, Yuki. I'm impressed." Mine beside him cheered silently, waving her arms about her.
Kyo usually wasn't so docile, true - not that anything he did could ever be considered as such. He too wondered what caused the sudden turn-around. "Quit saying such idiotic things. Actually, quit talking at all."
"But Yuki..."
He ignored the older man's whining, and leaned up against the wall, waiting. It didn't take long for the absence of rustling behind the curtain to be noticed. Mine grabbed the edge of the curtain. She pulled to open it, but it moved no more than an inch before Kyo grabbed it from inside, holding it shut.
"Oh Kyo, dear, come out and show us how beautiful you look, won't you?" She cooed, tugging on it again in hopes that he would have let go after the first initial try. No such luck.
Kyo's voice cracked, whether it was out of embarrassment, Yuki could only guess. "H-Hell no, you sadistic bitch! This thing is too damn short!"
Yuki chuckled softly to himself. Ayame had always called him his "innocent, sweet little brother," and thus the skirts and dresses he had been forced into had always at least been several inches past his knees. Not that that excused the outfit, but it was one concession he was pleased to admit at the moment.
"You might as well come out. They're not going to give up until you do."
"Go to hell!"
Ayame pulled himself together and took a turn in front of the curtain, pulling once on the same side before whipping around and tugging the whole thing back from the other. Kyo, who hadn't been expecting an attack from the other direction, floundered about for a moment before crossing his arms defiantly in front of his chest, determined to not look at any of them.
The outfit he had been forced into wearing was a red and white school uniform. It's red skirt came about halfway down his thighs, which - although slim and lengthy - definitely weren't any girl's. His sleeves ended with red cuffs that, embarrassingly enough, fit perfectly. The red didn't clash as horribly with the red hair as Yuki would have thought, but it still wasn't a good look for the boy by any stretch of the imagination. He still looked... too much like a boy. Or maybe too much like a girl? Either way, Ayame and Mine fawned over the boy, teasing him by playfully flipping up the edge of his skirt and sticking clips in his hair.
Personally, Yuki thought Kyo just looked awkward and uncomfortable, which went against everything he knew about the redhead. The other teen was hot-headed and had looked much cuter in his own over-sized long-sleeve shirt.
Not that he looked cute, he denied immediately. Just... cuter. Vulnerable. It's instinctual.
Now feeling awkward himself, Yuki cleared his throat. "As entertaining as this has been, we should probably get going back. Tohru will be making dinner soon, and food never tastes as good reheated."
"Nonsense," Ayame cried, releasing his hold on Kyo's wrist. Kyo immediately dashed back inside the changing room. "I simply must take the two of you out for dinner. I know of the best sushi joint only a couple blocks from here. Kyo, Hun," he called through the curtain, "how do you like fish?"
"Love it," was Kyo's unusually quick response.
"Fantastic!" The older man cheered. "My darling little brother isn't picky," he continued, ignoring Yuki's pointed glares. "Go ahead and change back into your boring old normal clothes, and we'll go get something good to eat."
Kyo pushed the curtain back, already changed in miraculous time. His cheeks were still a little red, but already he seemed to be more himself. No, girl's clothes really don't suit him. "Already done. Don't expect me to ever come back here. You mention this again and I tear your tongue out, housing me or not, got it?"
Yuki nodded, smirking slightly. Whatever made him feel better...
They made an interesting procession down the street, on the way to the sushi restaurant. Mine had wanted to join, but seeing as the only other worker was prancing off, she had to stay behind to watch over the shop should anyone suddenly have a need for perverted outfits. Yuki followed behind his brother (Kyo didn't seem to want to be anywhere near the man, and honestly, Yuki didn't trust Kyo not to attack him), and the fuming redhead tailed after them by a few yards. Every so often he would mutter darkly to himself, but he hadn't ran off yet, so Yuki ignored it to the best of his ability. A few elderly pedestrians shot them curious looks. He assumed it was either Ayame or Kyo that had caught their attention, but with both of them having such unusual hair, he wasn't surprised. Every new stare brought forth more grumbles from the boy behind him, though.
The outside of the sushi shop had a huge banner across the front displaying an advertisement for half-off weekdays, in particular their dinner menu. Suddenly things made much more sense.
"Cheapskate," he declared. Ayame made several vehement denials, but both teenagers ignored him and pushed past, deciding that they cared more for eating than how much the man was going to pay to feed them.
Inside was relatively small for a restaurant, and had many tables shoved against the walls with little space between. The walls themselves had several Japanese scrolls hanging on them, ranging from simple kanji that most Americans would know to complex symbols that he couldn't make heads or tails of. Several elderly patrons were gathered around wooden chess-like boards covered in black and white stones. There was an overwhelming scent of seaweed.
"Smells good," Kyo decided, plopping down in a seat in the corner of the room. Immediately he grabbed a pair of chopsticks and separated them with ease, rubbing them together between his palms to rid them of any splinters. Yuki and Ayame seated themselves after him, though neither moved to take a utensil.
"Smells like seaweed," Yuki retorted. He was surprised there wasn't kelp. It wasn't such a bad place, but he wasn't going to admit that to Ayame. He would only assume that meant he could drag him off more often.
Kyo shook his head. "There's the nori, sure. But you can't smell the fish, so it isn't old or cooked. I've had worse."
A waiter in dark slacks and a black printed t-shirt stepped out from the back to come take their order. Ayame went with a couple of appetizers, and he staggered his way through pronouncing a few of the more expensive dish's names just to hear the older man gripe about the price. Kyo rattled off a long string of syllables that sounded vaguely like a car brand, yet the waiter seemed to understand well enough to jot a few numbers down on his little note pad.
"So, what'd you order?"
"Fish."
"Ah."
It didn't take long for their food to arrive, especially considering how many other patrons were in that day. The most expensive items, he decided, were also some of the most unusual, and he chewed on a single piece of meat in the time it took Kyo to devour five or six fatty slabs of tuna.
The redhead tore apart a hunk of salmon with his teeth. "So you two aren't really brothers, right?"
Ayame appeared offended, flinging one arm across his eyes while the other swung off to the side. "What is this accusation? We are as close as blood, a lifelong bond!"
Yuki pushed aside a piece of raw eel to get to the pad of rice underneath. "He's old friends with Shigure. He isn't even a Sohma by the name rule, he just tells everyone that. One day he just decided he wanted a younger sibling so I was kidnapped."
"Aww, but Yuki," he whined, "you were just so sad and lonely after Kana died. Your heart called out for love and I was the only one who could answer the call! Shigure didn't know the first thing about raising a bouncing baby boy. He probably would have accidentally killed you in the first week!"
"I was eight, not an infant."
The older man ignored his logic. "I remember the many hours spent by your bedside, treating your illnesses and ensuring that you ate well-balanced meals. There were times that I was sure you were going to succumb to a fever or drown in your bathtub, but look at you now. So grown up..."
Kyo blinked. "Is he always this stupid?"
"Pretty much."
"Yuuuuki!"
The trio finished up their food shortly and paid with a decent tip - despite Yuki's complaining, the food was good. Ayame counted the bills in his wallet as they stepped out onto the street, before sighing and tucking it back into his long coat pocket.
"When it comes to money, it'd be great to actually be a Sohma," he said. "Your uncle is always so well-off."
"He gets checks sent once a month," Yuki agreed. "He also writes 'romance novels' for extra cash, if you can call them that."
"I happen to love his work, thank you very much."
"You would."
The sun had gone down while they were eating, and it was a great deal colder walking back with only the streetlights to guide them. He would not admit to bumping shoulders with the redhead a lot more often than normal, just to stay warm. Many of the shops had closed down as well. Their reflection wavered in the black store windows. Several crows cawed, observing them from overhead phone lines, but scattered as soon as he looked up at them.
Mine was shivering outside the dark shop when they arrived, and Ayame was quick to take off his coat and wrap it around the freezing girl. She blushed and licked her lips several times while he ushered her back inside and turned the lights back on. Once she was seated and warm he turned to her.
"Mine, dear, why didn't you go home? It's freezing outside!"
She stood up abruptly, coat falling to the floor. "Shigure tried calling your cell, but you didn't pick up, so he called me to see if I could call you or get a hold of you. You still didn't answer so I thought I would wait for you. Your car's still out front."
Ayame took her shoulders in his hands, trying to make sense of her. "What could be so important as to risk your own health just to tell me?"
"The police just found Tohru. She's been attacked!"
AN: DONE!
*cough* So, yesh. I procrastinate a year and a half... and the wonderful, fantastical, EPIC Terrara tells me she'll write something if I can get down 5k words. I finish it in a day.
I was debating copy/pasting our conversation with regards to one paragraph into here, but that would only grossly stretch out the AN. Suffice to say that there was much key-mashing and frustration, before it was decided to... not do much to it. Anything that makes a particularly large amount of sense in this chapter is credited to her, as 1.5 years of reading nothing but shizaya crack has apparently wilted my brain.
I will never abandon my fics! Just... put them off until I feel like writing them. I'll try to do that much less often in the future.