Gravitation Fan Fiction ❯ Affairs of the Inanimate ❯ If These Walls Could Talk ( Chapter 3 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Angrybee 
Anime/Manga: Gravitation Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Romance / / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.03.2004 | Updated On: 09.03.2004 | Pages: 4 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 269 | Status: Completed
Anime/Manga: Gravitation Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Comedy / Romance / / Angst | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.03.2004 | Updated On: 09.03.2004 | Pages: 4 | Words: 2.1K | Visits: 269 | Status: Completed
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Chapter 3: If These Walls Could Talk
-----------
"Sailor Moon is on! Sailor Moon! Do you want to watch it? Let's watch
Sailor Moon!"
"Oh good heavens, would someone shut her up?" If Couch could yawn, she
would. The Young Master had left that damn Television on again, and, of
course, she had been babbling nonsensically all morning. None of them
could understand the Young Master's fascination with Television.
Electronics. Snort. Those ridiculous upstarts.
"She can't help it, Couch-san, that's just the way she is, you know?" As
always, Wall was the voice of reason in the room. The peacemaker. Plain,
and calm and sturdy. But Couch and Door hardly ever paid her much
attention.
"Couch, darling," Door said, her old wood creaking haughtily, "You really
have no one to blame but yourself. You must be losing your touch if you
couldn't lure the Young Master to sleep -yet- again."
"Door-san, must you taunt her?" Wall asked quietly. It seemed like they
were in for yet another day of Door and Couch squabbling fruitlessly.
Frankly, Wall would have almost rather listened to Television's strange,
yet usually happy, noise.
"And what comfort are you to the Young Master," Couch inquired of Door,
her voice slightly tinged with traces of the Italian accent she'd had
since the day she'd been constructed in Naples, "Coming in. Going out.
Your knob has had more turns than a third-rate pachinko parlor hostess."
"Why you little..."
"Snack, snack, snack! Cheesy-cheese is the snack you can spray!"
"Shut UP!" The fact that both Couch and Door yelled at Television at the
same time would only make them -madder-. They -hated- to agree on
-anything-, even if it was how much they both despised Television.
"Yes, well," Door's voice just became higher and higher as she took to
being increasingly annoyed at Couch, "Who has a -stained- cushion? Such a
mark of shame. I can't believe that my innocence and honor is being
questioned by a piece of dirty, -foreign-, furniture."
Couch could only gasp at the insult.
"Please don't speak of it, Door-san," Wall whispered, "A mark of love
should not be termed a 'stain'."
There was silence in the room for some time as Couch and Door seethed.
Wall knew the peace would only be temporary. They were merely coming up
with other insults to toss at one another. But, Wall was worried for
other reasons.
It was true, the Young Master had not slept at all last night. In fact,
he had cried for many hours, his tearstained face illuminated by
Television's soft light. Couch truly had done her very best to lure the
Young Master into sweet slumber, but had no success in doing so. She'd
employed all of her best tricks, making her cushions softer, cradling the
Young Master between her arms, absorbing his tears...
But, the Young Master would only cry. His desperate sobbing punctuated
occasionally with Yuki-sama's name...
"Yuki..." he'd whisper, "Why must you be so cold?"
They all cared, quite deeply, for the Young Master. He was a gentle lad,
and they had done their best to make him feel welcome in Yuki-sama's
home. And his voice, when they could coax him into singing, was one thing
they could all...
Even Door and Couch...
Agree upon. It was beautiful, unreal. Door said it reminded her of the
northern forests from whence her wood came. Couch said it transported her
back to beautiful Italy. Television gurgled happily, comparing it to her
favorite theme songs and advertisement jingles.
And Wall...could only sigh. The Young Master's voice made her paint curl
in delight.
Yes, their home had become much brighter, much less drab and dull, ever
since the Young Master came to stay. Even Yuki-sama seemed to look a
little less...
The sadness in his eyes had lightened a shade or two, his voice had become
a hue less sharp, since the Young Master arrived. Of this, they were
-all- certain.
Wall just wished she could do...something...anything at all...to help the
Young Master. He had been so terribly upset.
Of course, Couch could lure the Young Master to sleep. And Television
entertained him and drew his mind away from his troubles with her antics.
Even Door...even Door was there to let him escape when he could take no
more.
But Wall...Wall had never been able to do anything at all.
She wanted only to repay the Young Master for all he had done. For
softening Yuki-sama's eyes...for brightening up the room with his mere
presence...
For the beautiful songs which had made them all feel so carefree...
"Stain Away! Rid yourself of pesky stains! Just one squirt and you can
see the Active Bubbles WORKING!"
"Oh my God," Couch exclaimed, "Is that Idiot Box -mocking- me?"
Door could only break into hysterics, horribly glad to have an ally for
once. "Just one squirt was what got Couch messy in the -first- place,
Television, -darling-."
Wall kept silent. Door and Couch were always -much- more agitated after a
night of watching the Young Master cry. It would be difficult to bring
the room to any sort of peace today.
"Well," Couch said in a huff, "At least -I- wasn't the one who let
Tatsuha-san inside Yuki-sama's house all those times. Such a terrible
mess he made. Who do we have to blame for that, hmmm, Door, love?"
"It is not my fault that I am oft left unlocked."
"Unlocked? As if! Your locks were -picked-!"
Even Television gasped at that dig. Well, she gasped, and then
immediately started rambling. "Protect yourself and your family from Home
Invasion with the new Highlight Security Monitor!"
"Ladies, ladies," Wall whispered frantically, "Can't we just...turn our
attention towards improving the situation. I feel so horrible for the
Young Master. Isn't there -anything- we can do?"
Door clicked her lock a bit and said in a clipped tone, "Nothing -you-
can do, Wall-flower. Just stand there quietly and hold up the roof, as
you always do."
"Door-san..."
"Don't taunt Wall," Couch added with a short sigh, "She can't help being
utterly useless. It's in her nature to merely observe."
"Couch-san...you too?"
Wall felt so deeply hurt, that if she had the capacity to do so, she would
have cried. She nursed her wounds by clinging to the solitary painting
hanging on her left side. At least she could help brighten up the room
-that- way. At least...maybe...
"Hush you biddies," Door hissed, "And you too, you foul electronic
contraption. The Young Master is arriving!"
Television, however, did -not- decrease her volume, but merely began to
show one of the Young Master's favorite anime shows. Stupid as she was,
she always tried her hardest to bring the Young Master cheer.
"How does he look, Door-san?" Wall asked, the previous insults already
forgotten. It was time for them to go to work, to do their best...for the
Young Master's sake.
"Worn out. Tired. Completely sluggish and...ah..." Door's handle turned
and she was pushed open slightly. The Young Master slipped inside, his
head hung, pink hair falling in his face. A quiet, "Tadaima," dribbled
from his lips as he slipped off his shoes.
"The poor thing..." Wall whispered.
"Well, at least he came home." Door was closed once more, and the Young
Master took to leaning against her for support. "Yuki-sama does get so
very upset when he stays out late, as you know. I don't know if I could
take two morose people..."
Just then, their Master, Yuki Eiri, appeared in the doorway leading to the
hall. He, too, appeared upset, though only the most experienced objects
in the room could ever detect the tiny changes. His hair had become
noticeably unkempt, and more than the usual amount of buttons were undone
at the top of his shirt. And, even in Television's muted glow, they could
all see the faint circles under his eyes.
"Where have you been, baka?" Yuki-sama asked as he crossed the room, "You
left the TV on all day!"
"You could have just turned it off!" The Young Master looked up
defiantly for a second and then hung his head once more, "Sorry Yuki..."
"It eats up electricity."
The Young Master chewed on his bottom lip and looked to the
side, his face scrunched up as if trying not to cry. "No...I...I mean I
am sorry about...last night."
At that moment, Yuki-sama finally reached the Young Master. One hand
outstretched slowly to caress the side of the smaller man's face. His
voice, still harsh and unyielding, said, "You were an idiot, and you
won't do it again."
"I was an idiot," the Young Master echoed, the mere touch of his lover's
hand apparently already warming his skin enough to make his mind fuzzy.
"And I won't do it again, I promise! Please say you forgive
me...please...Yuki..."
"Hn. Forgiveness...is a stupid concept, in general..."
Door squeaked softly as the Young Master was pulled away, caught up into
Yuki-sama's arms. They all watched as gentle kisses were trailed up the
Young Master's neck, kisses which became increasingly passionate once one
pair of lips found the other.
"They belong together."
Strangely enough, this simple statement had come from the one object in
the room no one expected...Television.
"My goodness," Couch said, "You made -sense-, for once!"
Television chuckled softly and began to show a program about ballroom
dancing. "When everything in the world is irrational and broken, the
language of love will be the only thing that ever makes sense. Even we
electronics know -that-, Couch-san."
Couch was flabbergasted. Door was quite amused.
And Wall...
Was occupied.
"Yuki..." Shuichi squeaked as the author pressed him against the wall,
"Yuki, I'm so happy we made up... I can't stand it when you're cold to
me."
Yuki snorted and grabbed Shuichi's thighs to wrap Shuichi's legs around
his waist, "We haven't made up -yet-, baka."
(And if Wall could have smiled, she would. Neither Door, nor Couch, nor
even Television could have brought Yuki-sama and the Young Master together
as Wall did on that day.
And never, ever, ever again...could anyone call her -useless-.)
--------
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. This one is
dedicated to Aira for the idea, and all of my peeps over at Gravilection.
You should be drinking!
Chapter 3: If These Walls Could Talk
-----------
"Sailor Moon is on! Sailor Moon! Do you want to watch it? Let's watch
Sailor Moon!"
"Oh good heavens, would someone shut her up?" If Couch could yawn, she
would. The Young Master had left that damn Television on again, and, of
course, she had been babbling nonsensically all morning. None of them
could understand the Young Master's fascination with Television.
Electronics. Snort. Those ridiculous upstarts.
"She can't help it, Couch-san, that's just the way she is, you know?" As
always, Wall was the voice of reason in the room. The peacemaker. Plain,
and calm and sturdy. But Couch and Door hardly ever paid her much
attention.
"Couch, darling," Door said, her old wood creaking haughtily, "You really
have no one to blame but yourself. You must be losing your touch if you
couldn't lure the Young Master to sleep -yet- again."
"Door-san, must you taunt her?" Wall asked quietly. It seemed like they
were in for yet another day of Door and Couch squabbling fruitlessly.
Frankly, Wall would have almost rather listened to Television's strange,
yet usually happy, noise.
"And what comfort are you to the Young Master," Couch inquired of Door,
her voice slightly tinged with traces of the Italian accent she'd had
since the day she'd been constructed in Naples, "Coming in. Going out.
Your knob has had more turns than a third-rate pachinko parlor hostess."
"Why you little..."
"Snack, snack, snack! Cheesy-cheese is the snack you can spray!"
"Shut UP!" The fact that both Couch and Door yelled at Television at the
same time would only make them -madder-. They -hated- to agree on
-anything-, even if it was how much they both despised Television.
"Yes, well," Door's voice just became higher and higher as she took to
being increasingly annoyed at Couch, "Who has a -stained- cushion? Such a
mark of shame. I can't believe that my innocence and honor is being
questioned by a piece of dirty, -foreign-, furniture."
Couch could only gasp at the insult.
"Please don't speak of it, Door-san," Wall whispered, "A mark of love
should not be termed a 'stain'."
There was silence in the room for some time as Couch and Door seethed.
Wall knew the peace would only be temporary. They were merely coming up
with other insults to toss at one another. But, Wall was worried for
other reasons.
It was true, the Young Master had not slept at all last night. In fact,
he had cried for many hours, his tearstained face illuminated by
Television's soft light. Couch truly had done her very best to lure the
Young Master into sweet slumber, but had no success in doing so. She'd
employed all of her best tricks, making her cushions softer, cradling the
Young Master between her arms, absorbing his tears...
But, the Young Master would only cry. His desperate sobbing punctuated
occasionally with Yuki-sama's name...
"Yuki..." he'd whisper, "Why must you be so cold?"
They all cared, quite deeply, for the Young Master. He was a gentle lad,
and they had done their best to make him feel welcome in Yuki-sama's
home. And his voice, when they could coax him into singing, was one thing
they could all...
Even Door and Couch...
Agree upon. It was beautiful, unreal. Door said it reminded her of the
northern forests from whence her wood came. Couch said it transported her
back to beautiful Italy. Television gurgled happily, comparing it to her
favorite theme songs and advertisement jingles.
And Wall...could only sigh. The Young Master's voice made her paint curl
in delight.
Yes, their home had become much brighter, much less drab and dull, ever
since the Young Master came to stay. Even Yuki-sama seemed to look a
little less...
The sadness in his eyes had lightened a shade or two, his voice had become
a hue less sharp, since the Young Master arrived. Of this, they were
-all- certain.
Wall just wished she could do...something...anything at all...to help the
Young Master. He had been so terribly upset.
Of course, Couch could lure the Young Master to sleep. And Television
entertained him and drew his mind away from his troubles with her antics.
Even Door...even Door was there to let him escape when he could take no
more.
But Wall...Wall had never been able to do anything at all.
She wanted only to repay the Young Master for all he had done. For
softening Yuki-sama's eyes...for brightening up the room with his mere
presence...
For the beautiful songs which had made them all feel so carefree...
"Stain Away! Rid yourself of pesky stains! Just one squirt and you can
see the Active Bubbles WORKING!"
"Oh my God," Couch exclaimed, "Is that Idiot Box -mocking- me?"
Door could only break into hysterics, horribly glad to have an ally for
once. "Just one squirt was what got Couch messy in the -first- place,
Television, -darling-."
Wall kept silent. Door and Couch were always -much- more agitated after a
night of watching the Young Master cry. It would be difficult to bring
the room to any sort of peace today.
"Well," Couch said in a huff, "At least -I- wasn't the one who let
Tatsuha-san inside Yuki-sama's house all those times. Such a terrible
mess he made. Who do we have to blame for that, hmmm, Door, love?"
"It is not my fault that I am oft left unlocked."
"Unlocked? As if! Your locks were -picked-!"
Even Television gasped at that dig. Well, she gasped, and then
immediately started rambling. "Protect yourself and your family from Home
Invasion with the new Highlight Security Monitor!"
"Ladies, ladies," Wall whispered frantically, "Can't we just...turn our
attention towards improving the situation. I feel so horrible for the
Young Master. Isn't there -anything- we can do?"
Door clicked her lock a bit and said in a clipped tone, "Nothing -you-
can do, Wall-flower. Just stand there quietly and hold up the roof, as
you always do."
"Door-san..."
"Don't taunt Wall," Couch added with a short sigh, "She can't help being
utterly useless. It's in her nature to merely observe."
"Couch-san...you too?"
Wall felt so deeply hurt, that if she had the capacity to do so, she would
have cried. She nursed her wounds by clinging to the solitary painting
hanging on her left side. At least she could help brighten up the room
-that- way. At least...maybe...
"Hush you biddies," Door hissed, "And you too, you foul electronic
contraption. The Young Master is arriving!"
Television, however, did -not- decrease her volume, but merely began to
show one of the Young Master's favorite anime shows. Stupid as she was,
she always tried her hardest to bring the Young Master cheer.
"How does he look, Door-san?" Wall asked, the previous insults already
forgotten. It was time for them to go to work, to do their best...for the
Young Master's sake.
"Worn out. Tired. Completely sluggish and...ah..." Door's handle turned
and she was pushed open slightly. The Young Master slipped inside, his
head hung, pink hair falling in his face. A quiet, "Tadaima," dribbled
from his lips as he slipped off his shoes.
"The poor thing..." Wall whispered.
"Well, at least he came home." Door was closed once more, and the Young
Master took to leaning against her for support. "Yuki-sama does get so
very upset when he stays out late, as you know. I don't know if I could
take two morose people..."
Just then, their Master, Yuki Eiri, appeared in the doorway leading to the
hall. He, too, appeared upset, though only the most experienced objects
in the room could ever detect the tiny changes. His hair had become
noticeably unkempt, and more than the usual amount of buttons were undone
at the top of his shirt. And, even in Television's muted glow, they could
all see the faint circles under his eyes.
"Where have you been, baka?" Yuki-sama asked as he crossed the room, "You
left the TV on all day!"
"You could have just turned it off!" The Young Master looked up
defiantly for a second and then hung his head once more, "Sorry Yuki..."
"It eats up electricity."
The Young Master chewed on his bottom lip and looked to the
side, his face scrunched up as if trying not to cry. "No...I...I mean I
am sorry about...last night."
At that moment, Yuki-sama finally reached the Young Master. One hand
outstretched slowly to caress the side of the smaller man's face. His
voice, still harsh and unyielding, said, "You were an idiot, and you
won't do it again."
"I was an idiot," the Young Master echoed, the mere touch of his lover's
hand apparently already warming his skin enough to make his mind fuzzy.
"And I won't do it again, I promise! Please say you forgive
me...please...Yuki..."
"Hn. Forgiveness...is a stupid concept, in general..."
Door squeaked softly as the Young Master was pulled away, caught up into
Yuki-sama's arms. They all watched as gentle kisses were trailed up the
Young Master's neck, kisses which became increasingly passionate once one
pair of lips found the other.
"They belong together."
Strangely enough, this simple statement had come from the one object in
the room no one expected...Television.
"My goodness," Couch said, "You made -sense-, for once!"
Television chuckled softly and began to show a program about ballroom
dancing. "When everything in the world is irrational and broken, the
language of love will be the only thing that ever makes sense. Even we
electronics know -that-, Couch-san."
Couch was flabbergasted. Door was quite amused.
And Wall...
Was occupied.
"Yuki..." Shuichi squeaked as the author pressed him against the wall,
"Yuki, I'm so happy we made up... I can't stand it when you're cold to
me."
Yuki snorted and grabbed Shuichi's thighs to wrap Shuichi's legs around
his waist, "We haven't made up -yet-, baka."
(And if Wall could have smiled, she would. Neither Door, nor Couch, nor
even Television could have brought Yuki-sama and the Young Master together
as Wall did on that day.
And never, ever, ever again...could anyone call her -useless-.)
--------
Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. This one is
dedicated to Aira for the idea, and all of my peeps over at Gravilection.
You should be drinking!