damalurbackup (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
damalurbackup) wrote2008-10-06 05:58 pm
damalurbackup) wrote2008-10-06 05:58 pm
Entry tags:
[fic] tsubasa, "endless - prologue & chapter 1"
TITLE: Endless - Prologue & Chapter 1
CHARACTERS: Kurogane/Fai, Karen
NOTES: I'm reposting this story now because I plan on having it finished by the end of the month. So, um, yay? Originally written for 30 Kisses prompt #06: the space between dream and reality.
SUMMARY: In the land of Hail, a soldier named Kurogane eats lunch every day at a magician's restaurant. An attempt to work within the confines of canon and explain how Fai and Kurogane can still be soulmates.
Expanded notes! I don't like the idea of soulmates, especially as defined by CLAMP; however, the concept is a recurring one throughout TRC. Since Fai and Kurogane are from different worlds, they cannot be soulmates, which is bit of a problem, to say the least. I touched on this idea in my oneshot "Green Fairy," but what follows is my attempt to explain a way that they can still be soulmates while being from different worlds.
This is not intended as an AU; it's really more "expanded universe," if you will. A couple of notes on the setting: the country of Hail is modeled as a rough cross between Outo and Rekord. I adore the idea of [insert various Chobits couples here, likely Chi/Hideki] as Fai's parents, but I took liberties here and came up with my own model. Also, I figured that since CLAMP broke up the awesome of Hokuto & Subaru, I was free to screw with the Yuui & Fai twinness. The Fai in this, btw, is our!Fai - the character that was born Yuui, aka Holitsuba!Fai. Make sense?
Other than that, please enjoy!
ENDLESS
Prologue
i.
Once upon a time in a land called Hail, there lived a poor girl named Chione. Chione was not beautiful in the classical sense, although some might have called her handsome for her strong jaw and sweep of wheat-blonde hair. She was proud, though, and gentle, wise and intelligent. She was ambitious; she was honorable.
She was also the daughter of brutish, lazy parents. Her mother beat her. Her father did worse.
Chione dreamed. She dreamed of going to the City, of studying at the academy there. She dreamed of escaping her home, of leaving her parents behind. In the midst of squalor, she dreamed of grandeur.
She dreamed; so on her seventeenth birthday, Chione went to the village witch and bought a spell for thirty pennies. The next night, she used the spell to summon a demon.
"Who summons me?" asked the demon.
"I," said Chione. "I wish to make a bargain."
"What sort of bargain?" asked the demon.
"Take me away from here," said Chione. She was proud, and so did not beg. "Take me anywhere."
"What will you give me?" asked the demon.
"I have nothing," said Chione. She was proud, and so did not beg; but it was a near thing.
"Well," said the demon. "I will have your children, then. Your first-born daughter I will have in fifteen years; your first-born son I will have in twenty-five."
Chione turned her face away. Her own parents showed her so little love that she wouldn't be a fit mother anyway. "My children, if I have any," she finally answered.
"Seal the bargain in blood," the demon said.
Chione took up a needle, then, and pricked her finger. A drop of blood fell on the demon's hand; he vanished. Chione went to bed.
The next morning she woke in the City.
The demon had left her moderately wealthy, with just enough money to enroll in a university. She studied, she made friends, she lived, and eventually she fell in love. She didn't mean to love him. She didn't want to love him, but she fell in spite of all intentions. He was a kind man, five years older than she, and only months after their first meeting she married him. The pregnancy was an accident, but she couldn't bring herself to terminate it.
She bore twins, one boy and one girl.
ii.
There are sometimes two people that form such a strong connection, such a strong bond, that their souls become entwined. Through ten thousand ages and ten thousand worlds, one is never born without the other. Perhaps one-hundredth of a percent of all people in all dimensions are so twined with another soul.
This idea is referred to as hitsuzen.
Chapter 1
i.
Monday through Friday the man appeared promptly at noon, always dressed in a crisp soldier's uniform and always with the same forbidding air. He sat at the same table every day, and every day Fai waited on him personally.
The first day was more coincidence than intent. The Grill was busier than was usual even for a lunch hour, and Fai deserted his usual station behind the bar to relieve the waiters. The man was sitting in a corner booth, his back to the wall and odd red eyes constantly scanning.
"Good afternoon, sir, and welcome to the International Bar and Grill," Fai started. "Our specials today are - "
"What's your favorite dish?" the man interrupted.
"Excuse me?"
The man planted an elbow on the table and leaned forward. "You're the owner, right? What's your favorite dish here?"
"Ah," Fai said, "The shepherd's pie. Thick crust, filled with lamb meat. Perfect for a cold day like today."
"I'll have that," the man said.
"And anything to drink?"
"Just water." The man smirked faintly, just a hint of a quirk tugging at the corners of his lips, and raked his eyes down Fai's body. "Nothing too...exciting...while I'm on duty."
Fai straightened his bow tie. "Shepherd's pie and water it is, and sir," - here he tipped a roguish wink - "might I commend you on your excellent taste?"
Every day after that, the man walked in promptly at noon, took up residence in the back corner booth - usually empty anyway, probably because the lighting was so bad - and asked Fai for a recommendation. He always paid in cash, too, so Fai couldn't even learn his name from a check.
"I'm merely curious," he told Karen as they shut down. "He's an enigma."
"Curious? No, you're a shameless flirt." She snapped a rag playfully at him; he laughed and flicked water back at her.
"Like you're any different!"
"At least I admit it," Karen retorted.
But Fai never did more than flirt with the man, never did more than tease him gently, all through the rest of that winter and spring and into summer. "He's probably married," he confided to Karen, "or we're just a convenient place for him to eat."
"Fai," she told him, "the man isn't coming here every day because he likes the food."
"Insulting my establishment, Kasumi?" he gasped, a hand clutched to his heart. "The nerve! And from one of my own waitresses!"
She rolled her eyes at him, and shook her mane of red hair; but the next day she shoved a pad of paper and a pen into his hands at five to noon.
"For his number," she explained. "Go on, now. It's been six months, and I'm sick of watching you dance around and make excuses."
"But - " Fai protested.
She shoved him gently towards the corner booth. "Go on."
So Fai tripped his way back to the corner booth. Before he could even open his mouth, though, the man's eyes zeroed in on the pad of paper.
"What's that for? You suddenly don't remember your own menu?"
Fai's eyes slitted. "No! Just...making some notes for improvement."
"Che," said the man. "This place could use it. Bring me something to eat. Surprise me."
"Of course, sir," Fai said, and smiled his sweetest smile. "You meal will be out shortly."
Karen was waiting for him in the kitchen. "Well? Any luck?"
Fai slammed her tablet and pen down so hard that the pen snapped, spraying green ink all over his clean counter. "No. The man's an ass, anyway." Karen's eyebrows shot up, but Fai ignored her in favor of muttering an order to the cook. Fifteen minutes later, he thunked a plate down on the man's table.
The man picked up a knife and prodded the dish. "What's this?"
"Pigs' feet," Fai chirped. "Cooked in vinegar, to preserve the flavor. Surprise!" The man's face swept through red and directly into purple; Fai had to turn away to hide his sniggers.
"I can't believe you fed him pigs' feet," Karen said, and then the next day at noon, "I can't believe he came back after you fed him pigs' feet."
"He deserved it," Fai said, and swept over to the corner booth with a sunny smile and a pitcher of water. The man was sprawled across the entire seat, a challenging jut to his chin. Karen shook her head and let out a whoosh of breath.
"Fai," she murmured to herself, "he's not coming here for the food."
ii.
Not until fall did Fai find out the man's name. One Friday evening in late September the man slouched into the bar. Fai caught the glint of red eyes in his periphery, and looked up in surprise. The man wasn't dressed in his usual military uniform; instead he was wearing denim slacks and a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to showcase muscled forearms. The man didn't move toward his usual table, either, just stood in front of the bar and looked at Fai.
"A little late for you, isn't it?" Fai finally said.
"Yeah," said the man. "I mean - " he glanced around the room; a few university students were slamming down beers by the jukebox, and two waitress were bent over a game board in the corner, but otherwise the restaurant was empty.
"Can I get you something to drink?"
"No," the man said. "Or yes, but I, uh, actually I came to talk to you."
"Oh," Fai said, and sucked in a deep breath to calm the sudden fluttering in his chest. The man's usual cocky expression was gone. Instead he looked almost...tentative? "Well, something to drink anyway? On the house?"
"Rice wine," the man said, and swung into a barstool. Fai reached beneath the counter without looking and pulled out a bottle. He slid it and a glass across, and then jumped up to sit on the bar itself.
"This must seem pretty weird," the man said. He didn't reach for the wine, but he wouldn't look up at Fai either. "You don't even know my name."
"I'm Fai," Fai blurted, and then felt his cheeks flush.
"Yeah, I know," said the man, and finally glanced up. "I'm Kurogane."
"Kurogane," Fai echoed. He glanced down at his hands, but he had a feeling Kurogane could see the grin splitting his face anyway.
"I don't normally associate with people that feed me animal feet - " Kurogane rolled his eyes. "My unit's leaving tomorrow, though, and I - "
"You're leaving?" Fai twisted around. "Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow. I'm an officer in the army - I guess you knew that from the uniform - and we've been called to Cimmeria."
"There's a war there," Fai said stupidly.
Kurogane scowled. "I know that, actually," he started to say, but Fai leaned over and kissed him hard on the lips.
When they finally pulled away, both panting, Kurogane smirked. "I guess you won't mind writing to me, then."
Instead of answering, Fai tangled his hand in Kurogane's hair and kissed him again.
iii.
25 September, 19--
Kurogane you forgot to tell me your last name Dear Kuro-chan,
I'm going to admit upfront that this is an entirely unusual situation. You're lucky that I'm verbose - you'd probably snort and say that I babble - but at least you'll have something lengthy to entertain you, eh?
About myself, since you said you'd like to know more: I'm twenty-two years old, a Gemini, and I've owned the International Bar and Grill for two years. I know a little magic; I was originally enrolled at the Sorcerer's Academy, but to my mother's great chagrin I dropped out to write fiction. At eighteen I was published for the first time. (I write under a pseudonym, but I'll leave it to you to find out which. I am fairly well-known.) By twenty I'd saved up enough money to start my own business, and here I am.
I live alone, with only a cat for company; her name is Nadeshiko, and she's a buff tan color that reminds me of autumn. My closest friend is probably Karen, the red-haired waitress I'm sure you've seen at the Grill. Karen is the one who thought of the name; I toyed with calling it something like the Fluorite Bar, but Karen pointed out that International Bar & Grill would work better since I wanted to serve dishes from all over the world. I'm not a cook, and Karen helps with the actual running of the business; to be honest, I don't do much but mix drinks and invest capital.
My middle initial doesn't actually stand for anything; it's just the letter "D." I suppose my parents thought they were clever. I enjoy reading and flying kites on windy days, my favorite season is spring, and I have a high tolerance for alcohol.
And now, I'm curious to know more about you. Why are you in the military? You seem young to be an officer...
2 November, 19--
Dear Kuro-pon,
I'm happy to hear that you are pleased with your new nickname! (Incidentally, you curse in some of the most innovative ways. I may have to copy directly from your last letter in my next book; I hope you won't mind.)
You asked about my family: My parents both passed away last year during the polio epidemic. My mother was a professor at Caliban University, here in the City, and my father was also a novelist. They met when he was teaching a workshop on writing. I had a sister, too; we were actually fraternal twins. Her name was Chi, after my mother. Chi went missing when we were ten years old. She was simply there one day and gone the next. I remember walking home from school with her that day. She was so sweet to everyone, always kind, with long, long hair the same color as mine -
Her disappearance is not something I discuss often. Somehow it's easier to write to you about her than it is to say the words aloud to anyone else...
14 February, 19--
Dear Kuro-sama,
In one of my favorite childhood books, there's a land where it's "always winter and never Christmas." That's how it feels here; we must have two or three feet of snow. Christmas has already passed, of course, but everything does feel rather dull and bleak. I've actually shut down the Grill for an entire week and am staying inside to write. You can expect lots of letters for the next few days!
I am excited, though, because I've managed to get a notorious up-and-coming singer to perform at the Grill come April. I've been after her for months - you may remember me mentioning it, oh, last November or December. Her name is Oruha, and she's agreed to sing on two different weekends. I ought to draw up some posters to advertise, but I'm not much for graphic design. I'm hoping Karen will decide to spare me the pain...
28 April, 19--
Dear Kuro-tan,
I'm so, so sorry to hear about Souma's death. I'm not sure I have the words to comfort you; you must feel her loss every minute. I know that I am indebted to her for taking care of you and guarding your back. Is there anything you'd like me to say to her family? I'd be happy to hand-deliver anything of hers you send home, even if it's just dog tags or a last letter. They might prefer having their daughter's belongings delivered in person instead of through the mail...
3 August, 19--
Dear Kuro-pi,
It's been nearly a year since you left now, and no, I have not "found a fuck-buddy." Do you realize that this is my two-hundredth letter to you? I don't regularly write two-hundred letters to someone and then go off and find someone else to sleep with.
I'm not sure you deserve more than that. If you were home right now, I'd make sure you were served pigs' feet for lunch.
25 September, 19--
Dear Kuro-rin,
You haven't written in almost a week. Is anything wrong?...
2 October, 19--
Kurogane,
I'm worried. Where are you?
| >>
CHARACTERS: Kurogane/Fai, Karen
NOTES: I'm reposting this story now because I plan on having it finished by the end of the month. So, um, yay? Originally written for 30 Kisses prompt #06: the space between dream and reality.
SUMMARY: In the land of Hail, a soldier named Kurogane eats lunch every day at a magician's restaurant. An attempt to work within the confines of canon and explain how Fai and Kurogane can still be soulmates.
Expanded notes! I don't like the idea of soulmates, especially as defined by CLAMP; however, the concept is a recurring one throughout TRC. Since Fai and Kurogane are from different worlds, they cannot be soulmates, which is bit of a problem, to say the least. I touched on this idea in my oneshot "Green Fairy," but what follows is my attempt to explain a way that they can still be soulmates while being from different worlds.
This is not intended as an AU; it's really more "expanded universe," if you will. A couple of notes on the setting: the country of Hail is modeled as a rough cross between Outo and Rekord. I adore the idea of [insert various Chobits couples here, likely Chi/Hideki] as Fai's parents, but I took liberties here and came up with my own model. Also, I figured that since CLAMP broke up the awesome of Hokuto & Subaru, I was free to screw with the Yuui & Fai twinness. The Fai in this, btw, is our!Fai - the character that was born Yuui, aka Holitsuba!Fai. Make sense?
Other than that, please enjoy!
ENDLESS
Prologue
i.
Once upon a time in a land called Hail, there lived a poor girl named Chione. Chione was not beautiful in the classical sense, although some might have called her handsome for her strong jaw and sweep of wheat-blonde hair. She was proud, though, and gentle, wise and intelligent. She was ambitious; she was honorable.
She was also the daughter of brutish, lazy parents. Her mother beat her. Her father did worse.
Chione dreamed. She dreamed of going to the City, of studying at the academy there. She dreamed of escaping her home, of leaving her parents behind. In the midst of squalor, she dreamed of grandeur.
She dreamed; so on her seventeenth birthday, Chione went to the village witch and bought a spell for thirty pennies. The next night, she used the spell to summon a demon.
"Who summons me?" asked the demon.
"I," said Chione. "I wish to make a bargain."
"What sort of bargain?" asked the demon.
"Take me away from here," said Chione. She was proud, and so did not beg. "Take me anywhere."
"What will you give me?" asked the demon.
"I have nothing," said Chione. She was proud, and so did not beg; but it was a near thing.
"Well," said the demon. "I will have your children, then. Your first-born daughter I will have in fifteen years; your first-born son I will have in twenty-five."
Chione turned her face away. Her own parents showed her so little love that she wouldn't be a fit mother anyway. "My children, if I have any," she finally answered.
"Seal the bargain in blood," the demon said.
Chione took up a needle, then, and pricked her finger. A drop of blood fell on the demon's hand; he vanished. Chione went to bed.
The next morning she woke in the City.
The demon had left her moderately wealthy, with just enough money to enroll in a university. She studied, she made friends, she lived, and eventually she fell in love. She didn't mean to love him. She didn't want to love him, but she fell in spite of all intentions. He was a kind man, five years older than she, and only months after their first meeting she married him. The pregnancy was an accident, but she couldn't bring herself to terminate it.
She bore twins, one boy and one girl.
ii.
There are sometimes two people that form such a strong connection, such a strong bond, that their souls become entwined. Through ten thousand ages and ten thousand worlds, one is never born without the other. Perhaps one-hundredth of a percent of all people in all dimensions are so twined with another soul.
This idea is referred to as hitsuzen.
Chapter 1
i.
Monday through Friday the man appeared promptly at noon, always dressed in a crisp soldier's uniform and always with the same forbidding air. He sat at the same table every day, and every day Fai waited on him personally.
The first day was more coincidence than intent. The Grill was busier than was usual even for a lunch hour, and Fai deserted his usual station behind the bar to relieve the waiters. The man was sitting in a corner booth, his back to the wall and odd red eyes constantly scanning.
"Good afternoon, sir, and welcome to the International Bar and Grill," Fai started. "Our specials today are - "
"What's your favorite dish?" the man interrupted.
"Excuse me?"
The man planted an elbow on the table and leaned forward. "You're the owner, right? What's your favorite dish here?"
"Ah," Fai said, "The shepherd's pie. Thick crust, filled with lamb meat. Perfect for a cold day like today."
"I'll have that," the man said.
"And anything to drink?"
"Just water." The man smirked faintly, just a hint of a quirk tugging at the corners of his lips, and raked his eyes down Fai's body. "Nothing too...exciting...while I'm on duty."
Fai straightened his bow tie. "Shepherd's pie and water it is, and sir," - here he tipped a roguish wink - "might I commend you on your excellent taste?"
Every day after that, the man walked in promptly at noon, took up residence in the back corner booth - usually empty anyway, probably because the lighting was so bad - and asked Fai for a recommendation. He always paid in cash, too, so Fai couldn't even learn his name from a check.
"I'm merely curious," he told Karen as they shut down. "He's an enigma."
"Curious? No, you're a shameless flirt." She snapped a rag playfully at him; he laughed and flicked water back at her.
"Like you're any different!"
"At least I admit it," Karen retorted.
But Fai never did more than flirt with the man, never did more than tease him gently, all through the rest of that winter and spring and into summer. "He's probably married," he confided to Karen, "or we're just a convenient place for him to eat."
"Fai," she told him, "the man isn't coming here every day because he likes the food."
"Insulting my establishment, Kasumi?" he gasped, a hand clutched to his heart. "The nerve! And from one of my own waitresses!"
She rolled her eyes at him, and shook her mane of red hair; but the next day she shoved a pad of paper and a pen into his hands at five to noon.
"For his number," she explained. "Go on, now. It's been six months, and I'm sick of watching you dance around and make excuses."
"But - " Fai protested.
She shoved him gently towards the corner booth. "Go on."
So Fai tripped his way back to the corner booth. Before he could even open his mouth, though, the man's eyes zeroed in on the pad of paper.
"What's that for? You suddenly don't remember your own menu?"
Fai's eyes slitted. "No! Just...making some notes for improvement."
"Che," said the man. "This place could use it. Bring me something to eat. Surprise me."
"Of course, sir," Fai said, and smiled his sweetest smile. "You meal will be out shortly."
Karen was waiting for him in the kitchen. "Well? Any luck?"
Fai slammed her tablet and pen down so hard that the pen snapped, spraying green ink all over his clean counter. "No. The man's an ass, anyway." Karen's eyebrows shot up, but Fai ignored her in favor of muttering an order to the cook. Fifteen minutes later, he thunked a plate down on the man's table.
The man picked up a knife and prodded the dish. "What's this?"
"Pigs' feet," Fai chirped. "Cooked in vinegar, to preserve the flavor. Surprise!" The man's face swept through red and directly into purple; Fai had to turn away to hide his sniggers.
"I can't believe you fed him pigs' feet," Karen said, and then the next day at noon, "I can't believe he came back after you fed him pigs' feet."
"He deserved it," Fai said, and swept over to the corner booth with a sunny smile and a pitcher of water. The man was sprawled across the entire seat, a challenging jut to his chin. Karen shook her head and let out a whoosh of breath.
"Fai," she murmured to herself, "he's not coming here for the food."
ii.
Not until fall did Fai find out the man's name. One Friday evening in late September the man slouched into the bar. Fai caught the glint of red eyes in his periphery, and looked up in surprise. The man wasn't dressed in his usual military uniform; instead he was wearing denim slacks and a white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to showcase muscled forearms. The man didn't move toward his usual table, either, just stood in front of the bar and looked at Fai.
"A little late for you, isn't it?" Fai finally said.
"Yeah," said the man. "I mean - " he glanced around the room; a few university students were slamming down beers by the jukebox, and two waitress were bent over a game board in the corner, but otherwise the restaurant was empty.
"Can I get you something to drink?"
"No," the man said. "Or yes, but I, uh, actually I came to talk to you."
"Oh," Fai said, and sucked in a deep breath to calm the sudden fluttering in his chest. The man's usual cocky expression was gone. Instead he looked almost...tentative? "Well, something to drink anyway? On the house?"
"Rice wine," the man said, and swung into a barstool. Fai reached beneath the counter without looking and pulled out a bottle. He slid it and a glass across, and then jumped up to sit on the bar itself.
"This must seem pretty weird," the man said. He didn't reach for the wine, but he wouldn't look up at Fai either. "You don't even know my name."
"I'm Fai," Fai blurted, and then felt his cheeks flush.
"Yeah, I know," said the man, and finally glanced up. "I'm Kurogane."
"Kurogane," Fai echoed. He glanced down at his hands, but he had a feeling Kurogane could see the grin splitting his face anyway.
"I don't normally associate with people that feed me animal feet - " Kurogane rolled his eyes. "My unit's leaving tomorrow, though, and I - "
"You're leaving?" Fai twisted around. "Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow. I'm an officer in the army - I guess you knew that from the uniform - and we've been called to Cimmeria."
"There's a war there," Fai said stupidly.
Kurogane scowled. "I know that, actually," he started to say, but Fai leaned over and kissed him hard on the lips.
When they finally pulled away, both panting, Kurogane smirked. "I guess you won't mind writing to me, then."
Instead of answering, Fai tangled his hand in Kurogane's hair and kissed him again.
iii.
25 September, 19--
I'm going to admit upfront that this is an entirely unusual situation. You're lucky that I'm verbose - you'd probably snort and say that I babble - but at least you'll have something lengthy to entertain you, eh?
About myself, since you said you'd like to know more: I'm twenty-two years old, a Gemini, and I've owned the International Bar and Grill for two years. I know a little magic; I was originally enrolled at the Sorcerer's Academy, but to my mother's great chagrin I dropped out to write fiction. At eighteen I was published for the first time. (I write under a pseudonym, but I'll leave it to you to find out which. I am fairly well-known.) By twenty I'd saved up enough money to start my own business, and here I am.
I live alone, with only a cat for company; her name is Nadeshiko, and she's a buff tan color that reminds me of autumn. My closest friend is probably Karen, the red-haired waitress I'm sure you've seen at the Grill. Karen is the one who thought of the name; I toyed with calling it something like the Fluorite Bar, but Karen pointed out that International Bar & Grill would work better since I wanted to serve dishes from all over the world. I'm not a cook, and Karen helps with the actual running of the business; to be honest, I don't do much but mix drinks and invest capital.
My middle initial doesn't actually stand for anything; it's just the letter "D." I suppose my parents thought they were clever. I enjoy reading and flying kites on windy days, my favorite season is spring, and I have a high tolerance for alcohol.
And now, I'm curious to know more about you. Why are you in the military? You seem young to be an officer...
2 November, 19--
Dear Kuro-pon,
I'm happy to hear that you are pleased with your new nickname! (Incidentally, you curse in some of the most innovative ways. I may have to copy directly from your last letter in my next book; I hope you won't mind.)
You asked about my family: My parents both passed away last year during the polio epidemic. My mother was a professor at Caliban University, here in the City, and my father was also a novelist. They met when he was teaching a workshop on writing. I had a sister, too; we were actually fraternal twins. Her name was Chi, after my mother. Chi went missing when we were ten years old. She was simply there one day and gone the next. I remember walking home from school with her that day. She was so sweet to everyone, always kind, with long, long hair the same color as mine -
Her disappearance is not something I discuss often. Somehow it's easier to write to you about her than it is to say the words aloud to anyone else...
14 February, 19--
Dear Kuro-sama,
In one of my favorite childhood books, there's a land where it's "always winter and never Christmas." That's how it feels here; we must have two or three feet of snow. Christmas has already passed, of course, but everything does feel rather dull and bleak. I've actually shut down the Grill for an entire week and am staying inside to write. You can expect lots of letters for the next few days!
I am excited, though, because I've managed to get a notorious up-and-coming singer to perform at the Grill come April. I've been after her for months - you may remember me mentioning it, oh, last November or December. Her name is Oruha, and she's agreed to sing on two different weekends. I ought to draw up some posters to advertise, but I'm not much for graphic design. I'm hoping Karen will decide to spare me the pain...
28 April, 19--
Dear Kuro-tan,
I'm so, so sorry to hear about Souma's death. I'm not sure I have the words to comfort you; you must feel her loss every minute. I know that I am indebted to her for taking care of you and guarding your back. Is there anything you'd like me to say to her family? I'd be happy to hand-deliver anything of hers you send home, even if it's just dog tags or a last letter. They might prefer having their daughter's belongings delivered in person instead of through the mail...
3 August, 19--
Dear Kuro-pi,
It's been nearly a year since you left now, and no, I have not "found a fuck-buddy." Do you realize that this is my two-hundredth letter to you? I don't regularly write two-hundred letters to someone and then go off and find someone else to sleep with.
I'm not sure you deserve more than that. If you were home right now, I'd make sure you were served pigs' feet for lunch.
25 September, 19--
Dear Kuro-rin,
You haven't written in almost a week. Is anything wrong?...
2 October, 19--
Kurogane,
I'm worried. Where are you?
| >>