Ryusei yori Dango (Boys over shooting stars) [Chapter 1]
Title: Ryusei yori Dango (Boys over shooting stars)
Author: Masuhisa
Pairing: Matsumiya
Summary: Years after two boys made a wish under the Leonid meteor showers, the meet once again.
Disclaimer: Fans write fan fiction. This is a fan fiction. Therefore I’m a fan. Fans don’t own the characters. Or the dramas. But they definitely own the plot.
Author’s notes: If you have read my previous fics, I did mention something a Ryusei yori dango. I was thinking: since I’ve already came up with a name, why not write a fic about it? So here it is!
I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE!!! (actually three)
-> Anybody knows why OhnoxSho is called Yamapair?
-> Can anybody teach me to how to change the theme for my livejournal?
-> This fic may appear randomer than the others, cos i'm trying to make it Literature-book-like. So if you don't get what i'm writing, feel free to drop me a mesage :D
Thank you, now on to the story
Chapter 1:
Jun stared at his plate. Dinner was a boring event. In Jun’s books, this wasn’t even considered dinner. Two people sitting at the extreme ends of a table meant for thirty is called madness, anyone would tell you that.
Jun always thought the dinning room looked absolutely disgusting and nobody, not even a starving man would have the appetite to eat in there - towering blindingly while mahogany bookshelves lined the walls; disturbing cream colored flower vases designed with disturbing patterns of cupids with equally disturbing bright flowers at the door; a dumb crystal chandelier emitting dull sunflower-yellow light rays was the only light source in the entire room. Yup, this place is shitty-er than hell, so Jun thought.
He had tried to ‘persuade’ his mother to change the layout of the dining room, add a bit of black to make it look classy, but all he got was a file thrown at his face.
Gripping his fork in his left hand, and a knife in the other, Jun glowered at his plate, ostensibly to attack his beef steak drowned in some dumb syrupy-sweet brown sauce, but really to avoid eye contact with his mother.
“Can you get the chef here?” he heard her ask, more of an order than a request.
“Yes madam,” replied Nishida, her personal assistant, getting up from his dog-basket-like chair.
Jun glanced up, trying to find out what that old hag was up to, only to find her sipping wine as though she was a goddess, or something equally important.
Seconds later, Nishida returned with the chef, dressed in a white uniform with an equally silly hat and apron to match. Jun wanted to snigger at the stereotypical look of the chef, but decided not to in the presence of his mother.
The chef walked up to her, whipped off his hat in one swift movement and bowed low.
“Did you call for me, madam,” asked the chef, straightening himself, eyes never leaving the floor.
Matsumoto Kaede replaced her wine glass on the table top, and smiled an evil devil-like smile, “starting from tomorrow, don’t come back here,”
She waved her arm to ask the maids to clear up for plate. Not once did she look at him in the eye, or bat an eyelid.
Jun rolled his eyes at the scene and continued annihilating his beef in a decorum manner, faking a look of pure satisfaction with the food.
“The food is edible,” thought Jun. However, he knew exactly why his mother did that.
“Jun,” he heard his mother call him in that sugary voice of hers. Masking his amusement with an irritated look he looked up.
Being the only son of the renowned Matsumoto family, and the heir to the Matsumoto World Finance Group, Jun knew exactly what was expected of him - solemn-ness, supreme-ness, being feared by others, the list could go on.
“Can I help you? Just so you know, I can’t cook,” he replied, his voice coated with sarcasm.
“You need to find a new chef,”
He slammed his utensils on the table, pursed his lips and folded his arms, “That isn’t my job,”
He saw her smirk. The smirk that sends shivers down the spines of everyone.
This isn’t his mother. The Matsumoto Kaeda he used to know would bring him out to play at the park, buy him ice-cream, take him to Disneyland. But this Matsumoto Kaeda would willingly leave her son at home to defend for himself for months if not years, only returning home for a day or two before flying off to god knows where for some business deal.
“I’m training you for the day when you take over the company,”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Ninomiya Kazunari, aged 26, burst into the restaurant he worked at, looking as if he had just finished showering but didn’t have the time to dry off.
“Sorry I’m late!” he said, bowing towards his boss, George Hayashi.
Being orphaned at the age of 7 after his parents were brutally murdered by a lunatic, Nino was adopted by a relative, Oikawa Sosuke, a violent, DoS man who would make him work 24/7 to pay off his drinking and gambling debts. However, Nino considered himself lucky, having escaped being murdered along with his parents and surviving to the age of 26 under Oikawa’s ‘care’.
“It’s okay,” smiled George in return, “just hurry up and dry yourself, I’m about to open the shop,”
Nino bowed once more and headed to the back of the store. This morning, he was waken abruptly by his ancient bed collapsing beneath him, chased by a possibly rabid mongrel, nearly got ran over by a double-decker bus and totally drenched when a limo drove past an abnormally large puddle. Being an optimist, he chuckled to himself for being luckier than usual, only getting into four ‘accidents’, two less than the average six.
The bell rung, indicating a customer had just entered the shop.
“Irashaimase,” greeted George guiding the customer to a table, “What would you like to have?”
Nino fumbled with his over-sized apron while receiving the slip of paper with their first customer of the day’s order.
“Hayashi rice?” he confirmed with George.
He nodded.
Nino immediately got to work scooping out rice from the cooker onto a plate and drowning it in hashed beef.
“Hayashi Rice,” said Nino, serving the customer with a smile.
That was the first of many customers. By the time the morning rush hour came, Nino was really busy, being the only chef as well as the other waiter.
“Nino!” yelled George from the other side of the counter, “2 plates of Chicken curry and 3 plates of Hayashi Rice,”
“Hai,”
“There seems to be more customers than usual”, thought Nino as he filled 5 plates with rice,
“Nino! Two plates of beef stew!”
Since he was already scooping rice for the previous order, why not do it together with the following order?
‘George’s Restaurant’, where Nino worked at, was a small shop. In order to maximise seating, the kitchen had been shrunk. Therefore, the counter could not hold more than 6 plates. Nino just had to learn it the hard way.
“Oh no (Satoshi)!” yelped Nino as a plate fell to the floor with a loud crash. Nino immediately squatted and tried to clean up the mess. As he was in a rush, he did not notice a broken plate fragment.
Immense pain rushed through his right arm as it grazed the fragment. Nino froze in fright as he saw blood pouring out from the wound.
“Nino? Are you ok?” asked George as he poked his head into the kitchen.
“I’m fine,” replied Nino, covering up his pained look and his injury, “I’ll clean up this mess,”
George left the kitchen, getting ready to collect more orders from their customers.
Nino rushed to the first aid box and applied some ointment to his wound before bandaging it. He then rolled down his sleeve to cover up any evidence.
“That’s still one less than the average,” smiled Nino to himself.
*******
Note: The “Oh no (Satoshi)!” part is just me being random
Author: Masuhisa
Pairing: Matsumiya
Summary: Years after two boys made a wish under the Leonid meteor showers, the meet once again.
Disclaimer: Fans write fan fiction. This is a fan fiction. Therefore I’m a fan. Fans don’t own the characters. Or the dramas. But they definitely own the plot.
Author’s notes: If you have read my previous fics, I did mention something a Ryusei yori dango. I was thinking: since I’ve already came up with a name, why not write a fic about it? So here it is!
I HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT TO MAKE!!! (actually three)
-> Anybody knows why OhnoxSho is called Yamapair?
-> Can anybody teach me to how to change the theme for my livejournal?
-> This fic may appear randomer than the others, cos i'm trying to make it Literature-book-like. So if you don't get what i'm writing, feel free to drop me a mesage :D
Thank you, now on to the story
Chapter 1:
Jun stared at his plate. Dinner was a boring event. In Jun’s books, this wasn’t even considered dinner. Two people sitting at the extreme ends of a table meant for thirty is called madness, anyone would tell you that.
Jun always thought the dinning room looked absolutely disgusting and nobody, not even a starving man would have the appetite to eat in there - towering blindingly while mahogany bookshelves lined the walls; disturbing cream colored flower vases designed with disturbing patterns of cupids with equally disturbing bright flowers at the door; a dumb crystal chandelier emitting dull sunflower-yellow light rays was the only light source in the entire room. Yup, this place is shitty-er than hell, so Jun thought.
He had tried to ‘persuade’ his mother to change the layout of the dining room, add a bit of black to make it look classy, but all he got was a file thrown at his face.
Gripping his fork in his left hand, and a knife in the other, Jun glowered at his plate, ostensibly to attack his beef steak drowned in some dumb syrupy-sweet brown sauce, but really to avoid eye contact with his mother.
“Can you get the chef here?” he heard her ask, more of an order than a request.
“Yes madam,” replied Nishida, her personal assistant, getting up from his dog-basket-like chair.
Jun glanced up, trying to find out what that old hag was up to, only to find her sipping wine as though she was a goddess, or something equally important.
Seconds later, Nishida returned with the chef, dressed in a white uniform with an equally silly hat and apron to match. Jun wanted to snigger at the stereotypical look of the chef, but decided not to in the presence of his mother.
The chef walked up to her, whipped off his hat in one swift movement and bowed low.
“Did you call for me, madam,” asked the chef, straightening himself, eyes never leaving the floor.
Matsumoto Kaede replaced her wine glass on the table top, and smiled an evil devil-like smile, “starting from tomorrow, don’t come back here,”
She waved her arm to ask the maids to clear up for plate. Not once did she look at him in the eye, or bat an eyelid.
Jun rolled his eyes at the scene and continued annihilating his beef in a decorum manner, faking a look of pure satisfaction with the food.
“The food is edible,” thought Jun. However, he knew exactly why his mother did that.
“Jun,” he heard his mother call him in that sugary voice of hers. Masking his amusement with an irritated look he looked up.
Being the only son of the renowned Matsumoto family, and the heir to the Matsumoto World Finance Group, Jun knew exactly what was expected of him - solemn-ness, supreme-ness, being feared by others, the list could go on.
“Can I help you? Just so you know, I can’t cook,” he replied, his voice coated with sarcasm.
“You need to find a new chef,”
He slammed his utensils on the table, pursed his lips and folded his arms, “That isn’t my job,”
He saw her smirk. The smirk that sends shivers down the spines of everyone.
This isn’t his mother. The Matsumoto Kaeda he used to know would bring him out to play at the park, buy him ice-cream, take him to Disneyland. But this Matsumoto Kaeda would willingly leave her son at home to defend for himself for months if not years, only returning home for a day or two before flying off to god knows where for some business deal.
“I’m training you for the day when you take over the company,”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Ninomiya Kazunari, aged 26, burst into the restaurant he worked at, looking as if he had just finished showering but didn’t have the time to dry off.
“Sorry I’m late!” he said, bowing towards his boss, George Hayashi.
Being orphaned at the age of 7 after his parents were brutally murdered by a lunatic, Nino was adopted by a relative, Oikawa Sosuke, a violent, DoS man who would make him work 24/7 to pay off his drinking and gambling debts. However, Nino considered himself lucky, having escaped being murdered along with his parents and surviving to the age of 26 under Oikawa’s ‘care’.
“It’s okay,” smiled George in return, “just hurry up and dry yourself, I’m about to open the shop,”
Nino bowed once more and headed to the back of the store. This morning, he was waken abruptly by his ancient bed collapsing beneath him, chased by a possibly rabid mongrel, nearly got ran over by a double-decker bus and totally drenched when a limo drove past an abnormally large puddle. Being an optimist, he chuckled to himself for being luckier than usual, only getting into four ‘accidents’, two less than the average six.
The bell rung, indicating a customer had just entered the shop.
“Irashaimase,” greeted George guiding the customer to a table, “What would you like to have?”
Nino fumbled with his over-sized apron while receiving the slip of paper with their first customer of the day’s order.
“Hayashi rice?” he confirmed with George.
He nodded.
Nino immediately got to work scooping out rice from the cooker onto a plate and drowning it in hashed beef.
“Hayashi Rice,” said Nino, serving the customer with a smile.
That was the first of many customers. By the time the morning rush hour came, Nino was really busy, being the only chef as well as the other waiter.
“Nino!” yelled George from the other side of the counter, “2 plates of Chicken curry and 3 plates of Hayashi Rice,”
“Hai,”
“There seems to be more customers than usual”, thought Nino as he filled 5 plates with rice,
“Nino! Two plates of beef stew!”
Since he was already scooping rice for the previous order, why not do it together with the following order?
‘George’s Restaurant’, where Nino worked at, was a small shop. In order to maximise seating, the kitchen had been shrunk. Therefore, the counter could not hold more than 6 plates. Nino just had to learn it the hard way.
“Oh no (Satoshi)!” yelped Nino as a plate fell to the floor with a loud crash. Nino immediately squatted and tried to clean up the mess. As he was in a rush, he did not notice a broken plate fragment.
Immense pain rushed through his right arm as it grazed the fragment. Nino froze in fright as he saw blood pouring out from the wound.
“Nino? Are you ok?” asked George as he poked his head into the kitchen.
“I’m fine,” replied Nino, covering up his pained look and his injury, “I’ll clean up this mess,”
George left the kitchen, getting ready to collect more orders from their customers.
Nino rushed to the first aid box and applied some ointment to his wound before bandaging it. He then rolled down his sleeve to cover up any evidence.
“That’s still one less than the average,” smiled Nino to himself.
*******
Note: The “Oh no (Satoshi)!” part is just me being random