Drabbles!
There is no beta, so any spelling mistakes are on me!
The ratings don't go much higher than PG13. There is R but...just as a safety precaution.
Mostly slash, a couple of het, so click at your own risk.
Pairings are listed in the LJ cut text.
Rating: PG13?
Where: In the One Piece world. Shaddap and let me indulge my dream!
Summary: Grell's keeping watch of her new crew.
The seagulls flew above with their squawks that meshed with the sound of small, crashing waves. There were gruff voices in the background as well, complaining about why that broad got all the easy work. Said broad paid them no mind as the warm breeze caressed her skin. Beneath an umbrella on a sandy beach, Grell laid on a towel in a two piece swimsuit, soaking in the warm sun. It was rare for the crew to have stopped on an island, but the need for supplies forced their hand. The island was one of those under the protection of Whitebeard, so essentially speaking it was safe to just lounge around as she was.
Grell frowned as a shadow blocked more of her body than the umbrella and opened her eyes, encountering Marco. "Hi, honey~!"
"Grell." Deadpan as ever, Marco glanced around the beach. "Why are their body parts everywhere?"
"Hmm?" She sat up, looking about as well. A few arms, legs, intestines, whatever you could name were strewn about the sand in a bloody mess. "They did want to see your father." Her sharp teeth became visible as she grinned. "I didn't quite like their ATTITUDE, however."
Marco looked back to her, his face unchanging, before lifting up a hand and tickling beneath her chin. "Good, Kitten." He figured Grell was a good judge of character most times, and if she didn't like what they had to say about Whitebeard, then they deserved to die anyway. And really, whatever to keep her bloodlust satiated. There was a pause before he spoke again, a bit more serious. "He's your Pops, too."
Grell was enjoying the reward before her smile faded a bit. "…still getting used to that." Her demeanor changed instantly. She was now sporting a rather hurtful frown. Marco instantly tensed, knowing how his kitten's mood could change as easily as this warm breeze. "Where's my hello kiss?" She gave a smirk at how relieved Marco appeared before sharing a loving kiss.
All of the crew were kept on their toes since her arrival. Izou couldn't have been happier to have a kindred nakama spirit aboard the Moby Dick.
Rating: between PG13 and R. for liking it rough. Sebastian's threats are turn-ons...
Where: Somewhere outdoors
Summary: Sebastian hardly sleeps, so he fills his time with like minded company.
The deceitful moon cast its glow upon a grassy plain, where shades of black and red were currently sitting. The butler of Phantomhive looked out into the darkness with a flat look before his red eyes shifted over to Grell. The slits of his eyes were not contracted, so they looked similar to what a normal human eye would be.
"Are you certain?"
Grell gave a sigh before turning to the demon. "You have asked me that three times this evening. My answer remains unchanged."
Finally, a bit of irritation from Sebastian as he looked to his pristine white gloves. Centuries upon this Earth, and never a situation like this has occurred. Beneath those gloves were hands tainted by every sin imaginable, by blood from countless humans, angels, and demons alike. Ciel truly mocked his existence with such a color. An all black attire, but the hands of everyday use must remain protected. Or rather his young master must remain protected until the proper time.
Black gloved hands obscured his view, causing Sebastian to cut his eyes to the grinning reaper.
"White doesn't suit you." She removed his glove, just one, to reveal pale skin with black nails. Yes, they felt rather nice around her throat in comparison to the cloth barrier. Sebastian gave a tentative squeeze, but Grell never gagged for air. Reapers don't need to breathe. It didn't mean she wasn't aware of the threat. "Such a tease…Sebas."
"I could easily snap your neck."
"But you haven't."
Why he held himself back was a mystery, even to himself. He loosened his grip before yanking on the back of her head, grabbing a large chunk of crimson locks. "It would be a waste."
Grell merely grinned more, leaning forward. Moths were never the sharpest knives when it came to flames. "You're aware of my value. An honor."
Sebastian let go of her hair before standing, adjusting and dusting his uniform. "You are now trespassing, reaper. Please leave the premises before dawn." There was no need to threaten her; it was left unsaid. Grell watched as he walked away. She watched very closely.
Rating: PG?
Summary: Gakupo is moody. Egypt is being a good roommate again.
Gakupo looked up at the ceiling to his room, pondering quietly. He was simply having one of those days that lasted a whole week. Everything that could have gone wrong, did. His last hair tie snapped, leaving him with his hair down most of the day. Because of that, instructors got angry at him for using the boys restroom. He explained, as politely as possible, that he was male. Then his hair got caught on a chair in the cafeteria, making him ten minutes late to class, and thus staying an extra ten minutes after class for a lecture. Thank goodness he had so much free time in his schedule, or else he would have been late for any other class!
So now…he was brooding.
He heard soft footfalls that stopped at the doorframe to his room, knowing Hassan wouldn't bother knocking on it. His hearing could pick up a pin dropping in an orchestra if he tried hard enough.
"Yes?"
Egypt stepped inside, wearing his school uniform, minus the jacket, and no shoes. His roommate had been in a poor mood all week, but with his own busy schedule, he didn't have time to inquire until this evening. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking to Gakupo. Blue eyes shifted to the other, seeing the concern despite his face so stoic. It was the little things that were indicators of concern. A slight downturn of the corner of his lips, his eyebrows were furrowed more than usual.
Or it could really be that Egypt came to his room.
"Wanna talk?"
Gakupo simply stared at Hassan. Really? Talk? This would only turn out with Gakupo doing all the talking while he listened. With a sigh, Gakupo sat up, bringing his legs over the side so he sat next to Egypt. "Not in particular." A lock of purple hair was pushed back before resting it beside himself. "I'm just having a bad week."
Bad week. Everyone had one of those, although they rarely last so long. Egypt nodded, watching his roommate gaze at his own feet. It was odd to see the usually energetic GFC leader so dull. It didn't suit him at all. He shifted his eyes to the bed, where their hands were side by side.
"But, you don't need to worry about me." Hassan looked up quickly when Gakupo spoke again, seeing a wry smile on his face. "I'm sure it'll pass. Bad weeks only come so often, right?" Some resemblance to his usual roommate are there, although forced. "I'm…sorry if I made you worry…"
There was a sudden redness in his cheeks as Gakupo felt a hand atop his own. He looked down to confirm, but who else's hand would it be? Gakupo slowly brought his blue eyes up to meet Egypt's. His roommate was equally unsure of what was happening, but made no move to stop it. it was a good sign in Egypt's eyes.
"Just get better." Hassan further moved his hand atop Gakupo's, eventually linking their fingers together. There was reciprocation to the movement, and a firm squeeze passed between their hands. They both had been so unsure all this time…
Gakupo gave a firm nod, smiling lightly. He had a feeling Egypt's request would be fulfilled soon.
Rating: PG more than likely.
Summary: Noin really likes his hair.
Zechs sat cross legged on their bed while Noin sat behind him. They had both gotten out of the shower and were in their sleepwear. Noin smiled in amusement as she brushed her husband's hair. It was so well maintained despite all the missions they went on and the harsh shampoos they were forced to use. She doubted he conditioned his hair much, but it didn't need to be, really. It was very fine, but there was just so much of it that it didn't appear that way to the eye. Zechs had his eyes closed, halfway to simply falling over. It wasn't often that there was enough time for Noin to simply play with his hair. Their work in Preventer drained much of their energy.
"Why have you kept it so long?" Noin knew all about how Zechs was ashamed of the blood he spilled in the name of the Sanc Kingdom. Zechs opened his eyes at the inquiry, a bit more alert.
"I have no right to wish for this, however…" His words trailed as he thought about the right way to explain. "My father was a great man, and as a son who always looked up to him, I've always wanted to be in his shadow."
The value of family was no secret to Noin. Her own so distant and muddled with troubles. She was a bit envious, but knew that if Zechs could share his family with her, he would. She shifted to stand on her knees and placed both hands atop his shoulders. He brought his left hand over hers, their rings matching in the soft light of their bedroom. "I'm sure your father would have forgiven you, Milliardo."
"I wouldn't accept it." Zechs looked to her with a faint frown. "I would rather earn his forgiveness."
It was a reply that didn't surprise her in the least. Noin sighed before straddling his waist, leaving her husband to place his hands at her hips. She gave him a lopsided smile. "You need a vacation."
Zechs rolled his eyes. "This again?" Her chuckle was hearty as she pushed back his bangs, planting a kiss on his forehead.
"And again until you realize just how tense you are." It was his turn to chuckle, although one of amusement.
"Fine, fine."
"Seal it?"
With a derisive snort, Zechs rolled them over, causing his wife to laugh at his antics. A kiss was planted on her neck before he smirked down to her.
"Not there."
"You weren't specific."
"I didn't think I needed to be, sir."
"Insubordinate brat."
Their romantic bickering resulted in a need for another shower.
Rating: PG
Summary: Hair talk.
"You can't be serious."
Duo sat at a bar with a beer in hand. He was slouched back in his high barstool chair that had a back to it. It was a high class place all right. "Our hair is like our business card, man! Chopping it off would mean you're outta business."
"Really, Duo, it's not as if it would change anything," Zechs replied, holding his own glass of WIld Turkey. He lost count of how many had had an hour ago. He still looks sober. "It would probably mean less shampoo to go through each month."
"It's not like you buy shampoo anyway." Duo smirked at the glare he got. "Women talk and word gets around in our circle."
Zechs knocked back the glass and got a refill as soon as he set the glass down. "That's besides the point."
Duo took his own swig of beer when Zechs finished off his drink. He licked his lips with a hum. "Seems to me like you've got your own set of reasons there, pal. Must be pretty deep if you're only thinking of cutting off all your pretty hair now." He rose an eyebrow when Zechs took on a contemplative look. At first, Duo thought he hit a sore spot, then knowing he hit the nail on the head.
"It's just time to stop living in the shadows."
"The shadows are where it's at, though." Duo shrugged casually, finishing off his beer. "But it's your call. I'll give Noin a nice shoulder to cry on as she mourns her loss."
Zechs chuckled softly before smirking. "She always did like you, for some reason. I see why."
VERSION TWO
"Why am I doing this again?"
Zechs was knuckle deep in chestnut locks, burning himself with a curling iron.
"Because it's a prank, and no one else would help me without laughing in my face and walking away. You just looked at me like I grew another head before I bribed you with booze."
"…that's right. OUCH! Damnit, do you really need curls?"
"Damn straight! Wufei will think he entered a bizarre reality once I'm through with him."
Zechs carefully rolled the hair around the hot barrel, waiting a few moments before pulling down the newly formed curl away from the barrel. Hairspray was added to keep the curl before going to another section. "I'm not drunk enough for this."
"If you were, we'd be in big trouble. Now, which dress looks better, the blue one or the green one?"
There was a groan in response to the inquiry.
"Neither."
Rating: G?
Summary:
The ceiling fan made its continuous rounds above them. Zechs, sporting a fresh bruise on his check and some bandages on his upper torso, was acting as a personal pillow to his runaway partner who laid their head on his stomach.
"You really made that all believable."
There was an amused chuckle, however light it was. Sephiroth looked over to Zechs from his relaxed position. "I told you to have faith in me." Although the SOLDIER General was worried that their extravagant disappearance would have been too much for the other. He was only half right, luckily. It certainly proved his resilience. Zechs smirked to him, brushing back bangs with an idle hand.
"It's probably a good thing you kept the plan from me." The plan being that they would 'escape' the ever looming Shinra organization. Escaping would mean faking their deaths, which was one hell of a thing to do for Sephiroth, being the strongest. Said male's eyes were currently green with cat like slits, his face looking less tense than before. There was much tension between them both leading up to that day. Sephiroth had his barriers up around Zechs, and the OZ pilot knew better than to pry. He also knew the reasoning behind the reverted behavior.
"No regrets?"
"None." Was Zechs quick reply. "Only if things get boring."
"Hmph. Doubtful."
A nod, and Zechs laid back again with a sigh. "It'll be odd getting used to a slow life…" He felt Sephiroth nod, idly playing with silver locks.
"We can explore?" Sephiroth was certain Zechs knew the kind of exploration he was referring to. Their relationship intrigued him, and frightened him. The mix was something he enjoyed, however. It was new, and something he wanted to do. His own personal desire.
"I'd be disappointed if we didn't, with all we went through." He chuckled softly, going back to the ceiling fan.
Rating: ?? not over PG13
Summary: History revisited
There were so many wonderful memories on display, so carefully restored. Kyoto must have stood at one particular display for the past thirty minutes. She was actually reading the print inside, despite a good portion of the print being burnt off. People passed by, not taking much notice of her. A common thing in this country. Ignoring what was wrong.
But her face looked troubled as she clutched to the hoary given to her long ago. She's dressed in a blue dress this day. Unconsciously a hand reached up to the glass, before another stopped its ascent. Kyoto jumped a little, turning to her company.
"It would not be a good idea."
"Ah, Danna-sama…" She withdrew her hand from his, looking a bit embarrassed for being caught up in the past like that. "Forgive me. I just…" Her eyes turned to the old book on display. It was a children's book by the pictures inside. "I remember this book, and its creator."
Japan brought his attention to the item in question. "Ah, yes, I remember this book, but not the author."
Kyoto continued to stare, her mouth set in a line. "The fires were so horrible. Almost all the children that enjoyed this book perished." She could hear the laughter of the children as they read it, and when their parents read it to them when they were too young to read on their own. "The author was a kind man, but had no children of his own. His wife was barren, but he loved her still"
Japan kept a careful watch on her, thinking that perhaps this trip was not a good idea. That is, until Kyoto smiled softly. "I am glad to have met him, and that his work is here."
"It is unfortunate that I was unable to have met him, but I am glad Kyoto-san has such wonderful memories." Kyoto looked to him again, bowing her head softly at his words. A different section caught her interests. It was about the most intriguing place in all of Kyoto: Gion.
"Danna-sama, I wish to show you something. My greatest treasure." She took his hand gently, smiling to herself at such a reddened reaction to their hands being entwined.
You're welcome!
The ratings don't go much higher than PG13. There is R but...just as a safety precaution.
Mostly slash, a couple of het, so click at your own risk.
Pairings are listed in the LJ cut text.
Rating: PG13?
Where: In the One Piece world. Shaddap and let me indulge my dream!
Summary: Grell's keeping watch of her new crew.
The seagulls flew above with their squawks that meshed with the sound of small, crashing waves. There were gruff voices in the background as well, complaining about why that broad got all the easy work. Said broad paid them no mind as the warm breeze caressed her skin. Beneath an umbrella on a sandy beach, Grell laid on a towel in a two piece swimsuit, soaking in the warm sun. It was rare for the crew to have stopped on an island, but the need for supplies forced their hand. The island was one of those under the protection of Whitebeard, so essentially speaking it was safe to just lounge around as she was.
Grell frowned as a shadow blocked more of her body than the umbrella and opened her eyes, encountering Marco. "Hi, honey~!"
"Grell." Deadpan as ever, Marco glanced around the beach. "Why are their body parts everywhere?"
"Hmm?" She sat up, looking about as well. A few arms, legs, intestines, whatever you could name were strewn about the sand in a bloody mess. "They did want to see your father." Her sharp teeth became visible as she grinned. "I didn't quite like their ATTITUDE, however."
Marco looked back to her, his face unchanging, before lifting up a hand and tickling beneath her chin. "Good, Kitten." He figured Grell was a good judge of character most times, and if she didn't like what they had to say about Whitebeard, then they deserved to die anyway. And really, whatever to keep her bloodlust satiated. There was a pause before he spoke again, a bit more serious. "He's your Pops, too."
Grell was enjoying the reward before her smile faded a bit. "…still getting used to that." Her demeanor changed instantly. She was now sporting a rather hurtful frown. Marco instantly tensed, knowing how his kitten's mood could change as easily as this warm breeze. "Where's my hello kiss?" She gave a smirk at how relieved Marco appeared before sharing a loving kiss.
All of the crew were kept on their toes since her arrival. Izou couldn't have been happier to have a kindred nakama spirit aboard the Moby Dick.
Rating: between PG13 and R. for liking it rough. Sebastian's threats are turn-ons...
Where: Somewhere outdoors
Summary: Sebastian hardly sleeps, so he fills his time with like minded company.
The deceitful moon cast its glow upon a grassy plain, where shades of black and red were currently sitting. The butler of Phantomhive looked out into the darkness with a flat look before his red eyes shifted over to Grell. The slits of his eyes were not contracted, so they looked similar to what a normal human eye would be.
"Are you certain?"
Grell gave a sigh before turning to the demon. "You have asked me that three times this evening. My answer remains unchanged."
Finally, a bit of irritation from Sebastian as he looked to his pristine white gloves. Centuries upon this Earth, and never a situation like this has occurred. Beneath those gloves were hands tainted by every sin imaginable, by blood from countless humans, angels, and demons alike. Ciel truly mocked his existence with such a color. An all black attire, but the hands of everyday use must remain protected. Or rather his young master must remain protected until the proper time.
Black gloved hands obscured his view, causing Sebastian to cut his eyes to the grinning reaper.
"White doesn't suit you." She removed his glove, just one, to reveal pale skin with black nails. Yes, they felt rather nice around her throat in comparison to the cloth barrier. Sebastian gave a tentative squeeze, but Grell never gagged for air. Reapers don't need to breathe. It didn't mean she wasn't aware of the threat. "Such a tease…Sebas."
"I could easily snap your neck."
"But you haven't."
Why he held himself back was a mystery, even to himself. He loosened his grip before yanking on the back of her head, grabbing a large chunk of crimson locks. "It would be a waste."
Grell merely grinned more, leaning forward. Moths were never the sharpest knives when it came to flames. "You're aware of my value. An honor."
Sebastian let go of her hair before standing, adjusting and dusting his uniform. "You are now trespassing, reaper. Please leave the premises before dawn." There was no need to threaten her; it was left unsaid. Grell watched as he walked away. She watched very closely.
Rating: PG?
Summary: Gakupo is moody. Egypt is being a good roommate again.
Gakupo looked up at the ceiling to his room, pondering quietly. He was simply having one of those days that lasted a whole week. Everything that could have gone wrong, did. His last hair tie snapped, leaving him with his hair down most of the day. Because of that, instructors got angry at him for using the boys restroom. He explained, as politely as possible, that he was male. Then his hair got caught on a chair in the cafeteria, making him ten minutes late to class, and thus staying an extra ten minutes after class for a lecture. Thank goodness he had so much free time in his schedule, or else he would have been late for any other class!
So now…he was brooding.
He heard soft footfalls that stopped at the doorframe to his room, knowing Hassan wouldn't bother knocking on it. His hearing could pick up a pin dropping in an orchestra if he tried hard enough.
"Yes?"
Egypt stepped inside, wearing his school uniform, minus the jacket, and no shoes. His roommate had been in a poor mood all week, but with his own busy schedule, he didn't have time to inquire until this evening. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking to Gakupo. Blue eyes shifted to the other, seeing the concern despite his face so stoic. It was the little things that were indicators of concern. A slight downturn of the corner of his lips, his eyebrows were furrowed more than usual.
Or it could really be that Egypt came to his room.
"Wanna talk?"
Gakupo simply stared at Hassan. Really? Talk? This would only turn out with Gakupo doing all the talking while he listened. With a sigh, Gakupo sat up, bringing his legs over the side so he sat next to Egypt. "Not in particular." A lock of purple hair was pushed back before resting it beside himself. "I'm just having a bad week."
Bad week. Everyone had one of those, although they rarely last so long. Egypt nodded, watching his roommate gaze at his own feet. It was odd to see the usually energetic GFC leader so dull. It didn't suit him at all. He shifted his eyes to the bed, where their hands were side by side.
"But, you don't need to worry about me." Hassan looked up quickly when Gakupo spoke again, seeing a wry smile on his face. "I'm sure it'll pass. Bad weeks only come so often, right?" Some resemblance to his usual roommate are there, although forced. "I'm…sorry if I made you worry…"
There was a sudden redness in his cheeks as Gakupo felt a hand atop his own. He looked down to confirm, but who else's hand would it be? Gakupo slowly brought his blue eyes up to meet Egypt's. His roommate was equally unsure of what was happening, but made no move to stop it. it was a good sign in Egypt's eyes.
"Just get better." Hassan further moved his hand atop Gakupo's, eventually linking their fingers together. There was reciprocation to the movement, and a firm squeeze passed between their hands. They both had been so unsure all this time…
Gakupo gave a firm nod, smiling lightly. He had a feeling Egypt's request would be fulfilled soon.
Rating: PG more than likely.
Summary: Noin really likes his hair.
Zechs sat cross legged on their bed while Noin sat behind him. They had both gotten out of the shower and were in their sleepwear. Noin smiled in amusement as she brushed her husband's hair. It was so well maintained despite all the missions they went on and the harsh shampoos they were forced to use. She doubted he conditioned his hair much, but it didn't need to be, really. It was very fine, but there was just so much of it that it didn't appear that way to the eye. Zechs had his eyes closed, halfway to simply falling over. It wasn't often that there was enough time for Noin to simply play with his hair. Their work in Preventer drained much of their energy.
"Why have you kept it so long?" Noin knew all about how Zechs was ashamed of the blood he spilled in the name of the Sanc Kingdom. Zechs opened his eyes at the inquiry, a bit more alert.
"I have no right to wish for this, however…" His words trailed as he thought about the right way to explain. "My father was a great man, and as a son who always looked up to him, I've always wanted to be in his shadow."
The value of family was no secret to Noin. Her own so distant and muddled with troubles. She was a bit envious, but knew that if Zechs could share his family with her, he would. She shifted to stand on her knees and placed both hands atop his shoulders. He brought his left hand over hers, their rings matching in the soft light of their bedroom. "I'm sure your father would have forgiven you, Milliardo."
"I wouldn't accept it." Zechs looked to her with a faint frown. "I would rather earn his forgiveness."
It was a reply that didn't surprise her in the least. Noin sighed before straddling his waist, leaving her husband to place his hands at her hips. She gave him a lopsided smile. "You need a vacation."
Zechs rolled his eyes. "This again?" Her chuckle was hearty as she pushed back his bangs, planting a kiss on his forehead.
"And again until you realize just how tense you are." It was his turn to chuckle, although one of amusement.
"Fine, fine."
"Seal it?"
With a derisive snort, Zechs rolled them over, causing his wife to laugh at his antics. A kiss was planted on her neck before he smirked down to her.
"Not there."
"You weren't specific."
"I didn't think I needed to be, sir."
"Insubordinate brat."
Their romantic bickering resulted in a need for another shower.
Rating: PG
Summary: Hair talk.
"You can't be serious."
Duo sat at a bar with a beer in hand. He was slouched back in his high barstool chair that had a back to it. It was a high class place all right. "Our hair is like our business card, man! Chopping it off would mean you're outta business."
"Really, Duo, it's not as if it would change anything," Zechs replied, holding his own glass of WIld Turkey. He lost count of how many had had an hour ago. He still looks sober. "It would probably mean less shampoo to go through each month."
"It's not like you buy shampoo anyway." Duo smirked at the glare he got. "Women talk and word gets around in our circle."
Zechs knocked back the glass and got a refill as soon as he set the glass down. "That's besides the point."
Duo took his own swig of beer when Zechs finished off his drink. He licked his lips with a hum. "Seems to me like you've got your own set of reasons there, pal. Must be pretty deep if you're only thinking of cutting off all your pretty hair now." He rose an eyebrow when Zechs took on a contemplative look. At first, Duo thought he hit a sore spot, then knowing he hit the nail on the head.
"It's just time to stop living in the shadows."
"The shadows are where it's at, though." Duo shrugged casually, finishing off his beer. "But it's your call. I'll give Noin a nice shoulder to cry on as she mourns her loss."
Zechs chuckled softly before smirking. "She always did like you, for some reason. I see why."
VERSION TWO
"Why am I doing this again?"
Zechs was knuckle deep in chestnut locks, burning himself with a curling iron.
"Because it's a prank, and no one else would help me without laughing in my face and walking away. You just looked at me like I grew another head before I bribed you with booze."
"…that's right. OUCH! Damnit, do you really need curls?"
"Damn straight! Wufei will think he entered a bizarre reality once I'm through with him."
Zechs carefully rolled the hair around the hot barrel, waiting a few moments before pulling down the newly formed curl away from the barrel. Hairspray was added to keep the curl before going to another section. "I'm not drunk enough for this."
"If you were, we'd be in big trouble. Now, which dress looks better, the blue one or the green one?"
There was a groan in response to the inquiry.
"Neither."
Rating: G?
Summary:
The ceiling fan made its continuous rounds above them. Zechs, sporting a fresh bruise on his check and some bandages on his upper torso, was acting as a personal pillow to his runaway partner who laid their head on his stomach.
"You really made that all believable."
There was an amused chuckle, however light it was. Sephiroth looked over to Zechs from his relaxed position. "I told you to have faith in me." Although the SOLDIER General was worried that their extravagant disappearance would have been too much for the other. He was only half right, luckily. It certainly proved his resilience. Zechs smirked to him, brushing back bangs with an idle hand.
"It's probably a good thing you kept the plan from me." The plan being that they would 'escape' the ever looming Shinra organization. Escaping would mean faking their deaths, which was one hell of a thing to do for Sephiroth, being the strongest. Said male's eyes were currently green with cat like slits, his face looking less tense than before. There was much tension between them both leading up to that day. Sephiroth had his barriers up around Zechs, and the OZ pilot knew better than to pry. He also knew the reasoning behind the reverted behavior.
"No regrets?"
"None." Was Zechs quick reply. "Only if things get boring."
"Hmph. Doubtful."
A nod, and Zechs laid back again with a sigh. "It'll be odd getting used to a slow life…" He felt Sephiroth nod, idly playing with silver locks.
"We can explore?" Sephiroth was certain Zechs knew the kind of exploration he was referring to. Their relationship intrigued him, and frightened him. The mix was something he enjoyed, however. It was new, and something he wanted to do. His own personal desire.
"I'd be disappointed if we didn't, with all we went through." He chuckled softly, going back to the ceiling fan.
Rating: ?? not over PG13
Summary: History revisited
There were so many wonderful memories on display, so carefully restored. Kyoto must have stood at one particular display for the past thirty minutes. She was actually reading the print inside, despite a good portion of the print being burnt off. People passed by, not taking much notice of her. A common thing in this country. Ignoring what was wrong.
But her face looked troubled as she clutched to the hoary given to her long ago. She's dressed in a blue dress this day. Unconsciously a hand reached up to the glass, before another stopped its ascent. Kyoto jumped a little, turning to her company.
"It would not be a good idea."
"Ah, Danna-sama…" She withdrew her hand from his, looking a bit embarrassed for being caught up in the past like that. "Forgive me. I just…" Her eyes turned to the old book on display. It was a children's book by the pictures inside. "I remember this book, and its creator."
Japan brought his attention to the item in question. "Ah, yes, I remember this book, but not the author."
Kyoto continued to stare, her mouth set in a line. "The fires were so horrible. Almost all the children that enjoyed this book perished." She could hear the laughter of the children as they read it, and when their parents read it to them when they were too young to read on their own. "The author was a kind man, but had no children of his own. His wife was barren, but he loved her still"
Japan kept a careful watch on her, thinking that perhaps this trip was not a good idea. That is, until Kyoto smiled softly. "I am glad to have met him, and that his work is here."
"It is unfortunate that I was unable to have met him, but I am glad Kyoto-san has such wonderful memories." Kyoto looked to him again, bowing her head softly at his words. A different section caught her interests. It was about the most intriguing place in all of Kyoto: Gion.
"Danna-sama, I wish to show you something. My greatest treasure." She took his hand gently, smiling to herself at such a reddened reaction to their hands being entwined.
You're welcome!