"Tetsuya, my orders are?"
Dichromatic red and golden eyes stare into his, a familiar pressure building in the air around them. Tetsuya meets his gaze silently. They've repeated this dance many times over the years (usually over the portion of Tetsuya's lunch), and while he has grown accustomed to his friend's… force of existence, he hasn't yet found a way to counter it.
With a sigh, Tetsuya looks away and mumbles, "Absolute, Akashi-kun."
It's how Tetsuya finds himself at Narita International Airport three days later, a red-and-black duffel bag over his shoulder. The moment he enters the hall, his cellphone vibrates with the incoming of a message.
D. Pole next to the third check-in counter.
No longer capable of being surprised by Akashi's omniscience, Tetsuya sighs before seeking out the group. His friends are hardly difficult to find, a clash of rainbow hair and abnormal height drawing attention even in the corner they've located themselves. He sees Akashi first (even though both Murasakibara and Midorima tower over him), leaning casually in a way that's difficult to tell whether he is actually touching the pole. The other two stand beside him, looking like rather ill-fitting bodyguards. As expected, Aomine is absent and along with him, Momoi; the tanned male is known for his inability to be anywhere on time.
"Tetsuya, just on time."
"Good morning, Akashi-kun, Murasakibara-kun, Midorima-kun." Tetsuya bows, lowering his luggage on the ground in the process. Murasakibara waves lazily at him, a umaibou in his mouth; Midorima nods stiffly, clutching the Hello Kitty in his hand.
"Neither Daiki nor Momoi is here yet," Akashi states the obvious. No one in the group is fooled by his casual tone. It's a wonder how Aomine could repeatedly choose to suffer Akashi's wrath.
It is thirty minutes later that the duo shows up, Aomine yawning and Momoi apologizing profusely. Akashi waves off Momoi's apologies before assigning Aomine errand duty, producing a list (presumably for lunch) and smiling until the taller male's protests trail off and his expression turns pale (Geez I got it! I just have to buy this crap, right?).
Tetsuya tugs Akashi's sleeve. "Akashi-kun? Could you tell us where we are going now?" he asks sulkily.
Taking a leisurely sip of his miso soup, Akashi smiles at his tone. "London."
A rainy afternoon, Tetsuya begs out of another trip of downtown shopping and instead spends his time in a coffee shop. They've been here, in this western capital of finance and tourism, for the past almost week, and while Tetsuya is fascinated by and appreciates all the art Akashi has subjected their group to, it is becoming more and more difficult for him to summon energy for another day-long excursion. He takes a small sip of his steamed milk (flavored with vanilla syrup) and glances out the large windows, alternating between losing himself in black-and-white texts of his historical novel and admiring colorful umbrellas upon their gray backdrop.
Tetsuya has claimed a two-person seat in front of the window, leaving the other armchair of the set unoccupied, so when, out of the corner of his eye, he senses motion in that general direction, he assumes some person has decided that the chair is needed and (fairly likely) since the other occupant is absent, he'd just take it without asking.
There is no follow up noise indicating that the chair is being dragged from the table, so Tetsuya looks up from his book. The first thing he sees is a bright blue scarf, the type that people wear for style instead of warmth (which he has never understood).
It appears that the person, having not seen him, assumed that the seat is empty (instead of temporarily unoccupied) and so has helped himself to the table. Tetsuya wonders if he should alert the person of his presence before a companion of the person (a male, Tetsuya deduces from the width of his torso) tries to sit on him.
His eyes follow the fold of the blue scarf up, to a sliver of skin of the neck that is exposed, to a sharp chin, to a pair of bright golden eyes.
That are looking at him.
Tetsuya blinks in surprise. Sitting calmly (not jumping a mile and screaming bloody murder as Kagami had the first two weeks of their acquaintance) in front of him, at his table, clearly aware of his presence, is a blonde. A rather good-looking blonde with golden eyes, full lips twisted in a charming smile.
"… May I help you?" Tetsuya asks in accented English, despite the man's distinctly Asian features (minus, of course, the outrageous hair color, though Tetsuya admits that he and his friends are hardly in any position to criticize).
"You could grant me the gift of your company," the man replies in his home language, sending him a flirtatious wink. Tetsuya hasn't decided whether he should be freaked out or amused.
"Sorry, try again," he tells the man monotonously. The man looks crestfallen for a second before he recovers, golden eyes lit in (really unnecessary) determined fire.
Ten minutes of horrifying pick-up lines later, Tetsuya is more than a little annoyed. He would really like to go back to his novel soon (as it is both recommended by Akashi and his excuse for skipping the day's shopping trip; he would prefer not to experience the consequence of Akashi coming back and finding him with no substantial progress on the book).
"Sorry, please do yourself and me a favor and do not try again," he tells the man, not the least bit apologetic when he seeks the panic in the blonde's eyes.
"Uh-. Um. That's. Uh… Please let me buy you a drink!" The blonde is near tears, his lips in a pout and blue scarf lop-sided.
Tetsuya glances down at his empty mug (he'd been consuming his drink at a faster rate than usual to refrain from making some comments during the last ten minutes). He's only two chapters into his novel. Akashi is likely to expect at least half finished. Outside, the rain continues. The group seems unlikely to return anytime soon. The man is wringing his hands, peering at him nervously beneath impossibly long eyelashes. Tetsuya blinks in recognition. Kise Ryouta. The model and-
"I'll buy you drinks for as long as you talk to me!" The blonde, Kise (Tetsuya thinks, but he couldn't be sure, since fashion magazines aren't his usual reading material), adds desperately.
Tetsuya lets a small smile on his face. "I believe this is the beginning of a wonderful relationship."
A.N. For the small number of readers who may have been concerned with my impromptu dropping off the face of earth, I'm sorry. I'm alive and well, except for head trauma and injured pride from underestimating the workload of the courses I had chosen for last semester, which, of course, led to my almost-demise during finals week (and my three-month disappearance). I am back. Kind of. Since I have a number of side projects that will be occupying my time during summer (including school). I plan to finish Exotic in a timely manner now that I'm back and writing, although intention doesn't seem to mean much in face of reality, so please bear with me.