Second theme
I wanted to do another one of the themes for 30_kisses, so I said to tasoka-chan, "Pick a theme. I can't decide which one to do."
And she told me, "I think you should do 'fence'."
....So I did. It wasn't easy, but I think it turned out okay...
The Trouble with Laziness
Ken wanted to know exactly why he was painting this stupid fence.
On second thought, he was more interested in the reason why Yohji wasn’t painting this stupid fence.
It was Yohji, after all, who had somehow managed to make the acquaintance of a young lady who owned not only a whole house, but a fence to go along with it. It was Yohji who had offered his help when said young lady had mentioned that the fence could use a new coat of paint.
And, of course, it was Yohji who had dragged Ken and Omi along on the trip, only to abandon them amid cans of white semi-gloss exterior paint in order to flirt with the fence’s owner. He had tried to get Aya to come along as well, but the redhead had refused point-blank.
“Someone has to watch the shop,” he pointed out with a glare so icy that Yohji didn’t even bother attempting to suggest that Momoe-san would be all right on her own.
Ken, not having easy mastery of the Fujimiya Death Glare™, had been unable to convince Yohji that it would be better for him to stay behind as well. He wasn’t exactly sure how Omi had gotten roped into helping, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the younger boy might have actually volunteered for the job.
At the moment, Omi was nowhere in sight. He’d passed the only readily available paintbrush to Ken when they’d arrived, along with the paint, and then disappeared, saying that he was going to look for more supplies.
Ken sighed and stared, narrow-eyed, at the vast expanse of fence before him. Resigned, he dipped his brush into the can beside him, and then began to slap paint carelessly onto the boards. He ignored the drips that formed due to the amount he was using. What’s taking Omi so long? He wondered.
“Sorry to keep you waiting!”
Ken twisted to look behind him, just in time to see Omi, his arms completely full of painting equipment, catch his foot on a loose stone and stumble. With a startled cry, he plowed straight into Ken, brushes, rollers, paint trays and all.
Reflexively, Ken turned back to face forward and tried to keep himself upright without touching the fence, but it was no use. The combined force of Omi and two gallons of extra paint sent Ken sprawling directly into the freshly-painted slats in front of him.
Ken peeled his face off of the fence, wincing slightly at the sticky noises the paint made as it released his skin. He spat white semi-gloss into the grass beside him and rubbed his mouth disgustedly, eyeing the smudgy lip-nose-and-cheek print he’d left behind.
“Oh, no! I’m so sorry, Ken-kun!”
Ken shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He began scrubbing at his face with the hem of his shirt. Omi gently tugged it out of his hands.
“Here,” he said, handing Ken a rag he’d pulled from the jumble of fallen painting materials.
“Thanks,” Ken grinned, and went back to work on his face. Eventually he managed to get most of the paint off of his skin, but his hair was a lost cause. He plucked at it apprehensively.
“Hey, do you think the fence lady would let me use her sink to rinse some of this out?”
“Not if you’re going to call her ‘the fence lady’,” Omi said cheerfully.
“Ha, ha, ha. I’ll be right back.” Ken pushed himself to his feet and started off toward the house.
“Her name is Kamemura Mako!” Omi called after him.
“Thanks!” Ken yelled back. “I’ll make sure Yohji knows it!”
Omi rolled his eyes and began to paint again. Ken climbed the steps to the door. He knocked and waited. There was no answer. He knocked again, but there was still no reply. He pushed the door open cautiously and peered through.
The entryway was empty. Ken stepped inside and removed his shoes. As he moved farther into the house, he began to hear voices. He followed them, and found himself in what appeared to be the living room.
Yohji and the fence lady-Kamemura Mako, Ken corrected himself-were seated on a sofa across the room. Yohji had one arm around Mako’s waist and was murmuring something into her ear while she blushed faintly.
Ken cleared his throat loudly. “Excuse me, Kamemura-san?”
Mako gave a start and looked up, a slightly guilty expression on her face.
“There was, um, kind of an accident with the paint.” He waved a hand, indicating his sticky hair. “Can I use your sink?”
“Oh!” She nodded. “Certainly.”
“Thanks.”
“No, thank you. That fence has been looking awful for months.” She smiled.
Ken, unwilling to lie by telling her it was no problem, merely nodded and looked to Yohji. “So, you’ll be joining us soon, right?”
It was Yohji’s turn to look guilty. “Oh, uh, of course. You go on ahead, I’ll be out in a little while.”
Ken glared at Yohji for a moment. “Good.” Then he turned and went in search of the kitchen sink.
Ten minutes later, he realized that he’d gotten as much paint out of his hair as he was ever going to, and decided to go back outside. Yohji would probably be there by now, so with any luck Omi wouldn’t be annoyed at him for taking so long. He squeezed as much water out of his bangs as he could and headed out.
Omi looked up as he approached. “Ken-kun? Where’s Yohji?”
Ken frowned. “I thought he’d be out here by now. He told me he’d be coming right out when I first went inside.”
“Hm.” Omi's lips thinned and he glanced at the house, as though expecting Yohji to appear in the doorway.
Though Omi continued to look back at the door every ten minutes or so, his mouth tightening a bit more each time, there was no sign of Yohji.
Finally, after an hour and a half, Ken and Omi had finished painting the front side of the fence. Yohji had yet to appear.
Omi stood up abruptly.
He threw his paintbrush into the bucket and began marching toward the house, muttering under his breath. Ken couldn’t make out all of what he was saying, but he thought he caught the phrases “dragged us out here” and “lazy, useless playboy”. He began to wonder if he’d been wrong in thinking that Omi had come along willingly. He rose and trailed after his friend.
This would probably be worth watching.
Omi put his hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath. Then he pushed the door open, careful not to let it slam against the inside wall. “Yohji-kun?” he called, his voice merely inquisitive.
There were scuffling noises from the direction of the living room. Omi stepped forward. “Yohji-kun?” he repeated, slightly more loudly.
At that moment, the living room door opened. Yohji stood framed in the doorway, his hair tousled and his shirt misbuttoned. Omi looked up at him, a picture of wide-eyed innocence, and announced, his voice just a bit louder than necessary: "Yohji-kun, if we don't get back soon, Aya will be angry with you."
Mako appeared in the doorway behind Yohji. "Aya? Who's Aya?"
"Yohji-kun didn't mention Aya to you?" Omi sounded perplexed.
"No, he didn't."
"That's strange. They're very...close."
Ken marveled at the number of implications Omi managed to insert into that sentence while still maintaining his earnest, innocent expression.
Mako turned to Yohji. "When exactly were you going to tell me about this 'Aya'?"
"There's nothing to tell!"
"Oh, no? Well, then, why didn't she come up when you talked about your friends?"
"Look, it's definitely not what you think." Yohji was making a valiant effort to hide how close he was to panicking. "We just work together. At a stretch we're friends, nothing more. Besides, Aya's a guy!"
Mako's eyes widened and then narrowed dangerously. "I think you ought to leave now." Her voice was carefully controlled. She turned to Ken and Omi. "All of you. Thank you for the work you've done. I'm sorry about this."
Omi bowed. "I'm very sorry to have upset you."
Ken bowed as well. "Thank you for letting me use your sink earlier."
Mako nodded tightly.
"It was nice meeting you!" Omi, catching sight of the look on Yohji's face, apparently decided that this would be a good time to leave. Ken followed, agreeing wholeheartedly. As they walked down the hall, they could hear Yohji's voice again, by turns pleading and defensive.
"That was brilliant," Ken told Omi as they walked toward the car.
Omi grinned ruefully. "I do feel sorry for Kamemura-san," he said. "She seemed like a good person."
"It's okay," Ken told him. "She's definitely better off without Yohji."
Omi laughed. "That's true, isn't it?"
The door behind them banged and they turned to see Yohji jogging down the driveway. When he reached them, he frowned down at Omi. "That was awful of you. Do you know, that's the first time a girl's dumped me since I was twelve?"
Ken snorted, and Yohji glared at him. "Besides that, Mako-chan really liked me."
"You deserved it," Ken told him.
"What? What did I do?"
Omi stared at him for a moment, a disbelieving look on his face. Then, shaking his head, he opened the door of the car. Just before he climbed in he looked back over his shoulder at Yohji.
"Next time you want to impress a girl, do your own work."
--owari
Very sorry about the title. I'm awful a titles.
Hope you liked it otherwise!
Many, many, many thanks to tasoka and bloody_petals, who are lovely people and willing to put up with my requests for beta-ing.
And she told me, "I think you should do 'fence'."
....So I did. It wasn't easy, but I think it turned out okay...
The Trouble with Laziness
Ken wanted to know exactly why he was painting this stupid fence.
On second thought, he was more interested in the reason why Yohji wasn’t painting this stupid fence.
It was Yohji, after all, who had somehow managed to make the acquaintance of a young lady who owned not only a whole house, but a fence to go along with it. It was Yohji who had offered his help when said young lady had mentioned that the fence could use a new coat of paint.
And, of course, it was Yohji who had dragged Ken and Omi along on the trip, only to abandon them amid cans of white semi-gloss exterior paint in order to flirt with the fence’s owner. He had tried to get Aya to come along as well, but the redhead had refused point-blank.
“Someone has to watch the shop,” he pointed out with a glare so icy that Yohji didn’t even bother attempting to suggest that Momoe-san would be all right on her own.
Ken, not having easy mastery of the Fujimiya Death Glare™, had been unable to convince Yohji that it would be better for him to stay behind as well. He wasn’t exactly sure how Omi had gotten roped into helping, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the younger boy might have actually volunteered for the job.
At the moment, Omi was nowhere in sight. He’d passed the only readily available paintbrush to Ken when they’d arrived, along with the paint, and then disappeared, saying that he was going to look for more supplies.
Ken sighed and stared, narrow-eyed, at the vast expanse of fence before him. Resigned, he dipped his brush into the can beside him, and then began to slap paint carelessly onto the boards. He ignored the drips that formed due to the amount he was using. What’s taking Omi so long? He wondered.
“Sorry to keep you waiting!”
Ken twisted to look behind him, just in time to see Omi, his arms completely full of painting equipment, catch his foot on a loose stone and stumble. With a startled cry, he plowed straight into Ken, brushes, rollers, paint trays and all.
Reflexively, Ken turned back to face forward and tried to keep himself upright without touching the fence, but it was no use. The combined force of Omi and two gallons of extra paint sent Ken sprawling directly into the freshly-painted slats in front of him.
Ken peeled his face off of the fence, wincing slightly at the sticky noises the paint made as it released his skin. He spat white semi-gloss into the grass beside him and rubbed his mouth disgustedly, eyeing the smudgy lip-nose-and-cheek print he’d left behind.
“Oh, no! I’m so sorry, Ken-kun!”
Ken shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.” He began scrubbing at his face with the hem of his shirt. Omi gently tugged it out of his hands.
“Here,” he said, handing Ken a rag he’d pulled from the jumble of fallen painting materials.
“Thanks,” Ken grinned, and went back to work on his face. Eventually he managed to get most of the paint off of his skin, but his hair was a lost cause. He plucked at it apprehensively.
“Hey, do you think the fence lady would let me use her sink to rinse some of this out?”
“Not if you’re going to call her ‘the fence lady’,” Omi said cheerfully.
“Ha, ha, ha. I’ll be right back.” Ken pushed himself to his feet and started off toward the house.
“Her name is Kamemura Mako!” Omi called after him.
“Thanks!” Ken yelled back. “I’ll make sure Yohji knows it!”
Omi rolled his eyes and began to paint again. Ken climbed the steps to the door. He knocked and waited. There was no answer. He knocked again, but there was still no reply. He pushed the door open cautiously and peered through.
The entryway was empty. Ken stepped inside and removed his shoes. As he moved farther into the house, he began to hear voices. He followed them, and found himself in what appeared to be the living room.
Yohji and the fence lady-Kamemura Mako, Ken corrected himself-were seated on a sofa across the room. Yohji had one arm around Mako’s waist and was murmuring something into her ear while she blushed faintly.
Ken cleared his throat loudly. “Excuse me, Kamemura-san?”
Mako gave a start and looked up, a slightly guilty expression on her face.
“There was, um, kind of an accident with the paint.” He waved a hand, indicating his sticky hair. “Can I use your sink?”
“Oh!” She nodded. “Certainly.”
“Thanks.”
“No, thank you. That fence has been looking awful for months.” She smiled.
Ken, unwilling to lie by telling her it was no problem, merely nodded and looked to Yohji. “So, you’ll be joining us soon, right?”
It was Yohji’s turn to look guilty. “Oh, uh, of course. You go on ahead, I’ll be out in a little while.”
Ken glared at Yohji for a moment. “Good.” Then he turned and went in search of the kitchen sink.
Ten minutes later, he realized that he’d gotten as much paint out of his hair as he was ever going to, and decided to go back outside. Yohji would probably be there by now, so with any luck Omi wouldn’t be annoyed at him for taking so long. He squeezed as much water out of his bangs as he could and headed out.
Omi looked up as he approached. “Ken-kun? Where’s Yohji?”
Ken frowned. “I thought he’d be out here by now. He told me he’d be coming right out when I first went inside.”
“Hm.” Omi's lips thinned and he glanced at the house, as though expecting Yohji to appear in the doorway.
Though Omi continued to look back at the door every ten minutes or so, his mouth tightening a bit more each time, there was no sign of Yohji.
Finally, after an hour and a half, Ken and Omi had finished painting the front side of the fence. Yohji had yet to appear.
Omi stood up abruptly.
He threw his paintbrush into the bucket and began marching toward the house, muttering under his breath. Ken couldn’t make out all of what he was saying, but he thought he caught the phrases “dragged us out here” and “lazy, useless playboy”. He began to wonder if he’d been wrong in thinking that Omi had come along willingly. He rose and trailed after his friend.
This would probably be worth watching.
Omi put his hand on the doorknob and took a deep breath. Then he pushed the door open, careful not to let it slam against the inside wall. “Yohji-kun?” he called, his voice merely inquisitive.
There were scuffling noises from the direction of the living room. Omi stepped forward. “Yohji-kun?” he repeated, slightly more loudly.
At that moment, the living room door opened. Yohji stood framed in the doorway, his hair tousled and his shirt misbuttoned. Omi looked up at him, a picture of wide-eyed innocence, and announced, his voice just a bit louder than necessary: "Yohji-kun, if we don't get back soon, Aya will be angry with you."
Mako appeared in the doorway behind Yohji. "Aya? Who's Aya?"
"Yohji-kun didn't mention Aya to you?" Omi sounded perplexed.
"No, he didn't."
"That's strange. They're very...close."
Ken marveled at the number of implications Omi managed to insert into that sentence while still maintaining his earnest, innocent expression.
Mako turned to Yohji. "When exactly were you going to tell me about this 'Aya'?"
"There's nothing to tell!"
"Oh, no? Well, then, why didn't she come up when you talked about your friends?"
"Look, it's definitely not what you think." Yohji was making a valiant effort to hide how close he was to panicking. "We just work together. At a stretch we're friends, nothing more. Besides, Aya's a guy!"
Mako's eyes widened and then narrowed dangerously. "I think you ought to leave now." Her voice was carefully controlled. She turned to Ken and Omi. "All of you. Thank you for the work you've done. I'm sorry about this."
Omi bowed. "I'm very sorry to have upset you."
Ken bowed as well. "Thank you for letting me use your sink earlier."
Mako nodded tightly.
"It was nice meeting you!" Omi, catching sight of the look on Yohji's face, apparently decided that this would be a good time to leave. Ken followed, agreeing wholeheartedly. As they walked down the hall, they could hear Yohji's voice again, by turns pleading and defensive.
"That was brilliant," Ken told Omi as they walked toward the car.
Omi grinned ruefully. "I do feel sorry for Kamemura-san," he said. "She seemed like a good person."
"It's okay," Ken told him. "She's definitely better off without Yohji."
Omi laughed. "That's true, isn't it?"
The door behind them banged and they turned to see Yohji jogging down the driveway. When he reached them, he frowned down at Omi. "That was awful of you. Do you know, that's the first time a girl's dumped me since I was twelve?"
Ken snorted, and Yohji glared at him. "Besides that, Mako-chan really liked me."
"You deserved it," Ken told him.
"What? What did I do?"
Omi stared at him for a moment, a disbelieving look on his face. Then, shaking his head, he opened the door of the car. Just before he climbed in he looked back over his shoulder at Yohji.
"Next time you want to impress a girl, do your own work."
--owari
Very sorry about the title. I'm awful a titles.
Hope you liked it otherwise!
Many, many, many thanks to tasoka and bloody_petals, who are lovely people and willing to put up with my requests for beta-ing.