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Aya: *hunched over a microphone, expression sullen* Aya: *tone flat and unenthusiastic* Pure. White. Junsui no shiroi, a pure unpolluted white. And you, too, can achieve that blinding white purity every time your clothes go through the laundry. White Cross detergent is committed to eradicating the stains from every shirt, every pair of pants that goes through your washer. Nothing gets out bloodstains better. If you want the real pure white, use White Cross Detergent. Your white stays white, and your black turns white, too. White Cross. So strong, even assassins call it number one. Aya: *looks up from the microphone, left eyebrow twitching* This is ridiculous. I burn my mission clothes when I'm through with them. Omi: *tapping foot, holding a rolled-up newspaper* Just DO it, Aya-kun. We need the money. We're in the red again this month. Aya: *suffering long-drawn out sigh* I'd better get some Yohji for this. *Across the town, Yohji sneezes.* Yohji: *blinkblink* *rubs his nose* Somebody's talkin' about me - HEY, that means I'm gonna get lucky!
~ Sono Ni! ~
Schuldich hopped onto the fire escape and peered through a window. Yup, this was Fujimiya's place, all right - gawd, the place was bare. Nothing interesting in there. He peered into the other window. He grinned. The faint shape of a girl-- *ZWOOP! ZWOOP! ZWOOP!* He fell over backwards as a blare of lights and noise went off
in his face, blinding him and temporarily deafening him. "Itetetetete..."
Another window slid open. A red head poked out, glaring fit to kill, then
Fujimiya climbed out onto the fire escape, unsheathed katana in his hands.
"I KNEW it would pay to wire my imouto's window with an alarm," he growled.
Schuldich grinned uneasily, raising his hands up for the scant protection
they could provide. "Eheh...would you believe I'm not here for her?"
Violet eyes glared at him for a long, tense moment. Then Fujimiya's lips
moved.
"I knew it. You DO love me."
Schuldich fell with a clunk to the iron grating of the fire escape. He leapt
up in the next moment. "FOR THE LAST TIME!! Koyasu-san, I do NOT like men that
way!!" He covered his mouth, chagrined.
Fujimiya shook his head, red ear-tails bobbing. "Just admit it, Hikaru-chan.
It was love at first sight."
Schuldich fumed. "I'm leaving."
"But HikaRU! Don't you want to know if *I* love *you*?"
~ Sono San! ~
Yohji started out of sleep with an unaccustomed shout on his lips. “No!! ...no, it's not true...” It was a far cry from his plaintive nightmares of Asuka. When he woke, he never remembered what he had dreamed. He only knew it had been bad, with deep undercurrents that sucked him into places he never wanted to return. Places he’d never been, even, but that didn’t make them any less frightening. He clutched forest-green sheets to his lap, and tried to follow the elusive threads of the dreams that had exploded him from sleep. Yohji shook his head. All he knew was it had something to do with ‘Weiss,’ but then, so many of his nightmares solidified around Weiss, he could hardly narrow it to a single point of trauma. Some nights he wondered if he weren’t dying, or already dead, and this was part of the convulsive throes to torment him at the end. "Oh gods," Yohji shivered, burrowing under the blanket. He was wide-awake now, and he remembered, and he would NEVER get to sleep again. There had been an orgy. A beautiful, naked orgy with all three of his teammates, and Botan from Kritiker, and Manx and Birman entangled in one corner of the huge, huge bed. And Yohji....Yohji had been impotent. |