Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ My Shinigami, My Hamburger ❯ The Morning Rituals ( Chapter 10 )

Chapter 10

The Morning Rituals

"Hey. Wake up. We're here."

There was a nudging hand on the Shinigami's shoulder just as it was growing lighter outside, the sun preparing itself for another day just below the horizon. The train had finally come to a halt at its destination-neatly inside a San Franciscan train station. Sitting in the seat, Heero had been awake since he woke up with the Shinigami snoring literally at his feet. He'd barely moved until they had pulled up to platform number nine and the engine finally hissed and settled down. He didn't want to wake the slumbering Shinigami until it was absolutely necessary. He wanted to convince himself that it was simply because he was uneasy in a Divine's presence, but couldn't quite do it.

Heero looked dully down at the Shinigami's head and straightened back up in his seat when the deity whined immaturely in his sleep and rolled onto his side, too drowsy to notice that he was pinning his wing against the seat at an awkward angle. The mortal had to sigh to himself as he rubbed his temples, praying that he would be able to avoid another headache at least until they had gotten off onto the platform. Wonderful. He was giving asylum to a God of Death, as well as a stubborn slugabed. Imagining dragging his ward every morning out of bed-or worse, off of him-didn't particularly soothe his mind. Eventually, Heero was able to ignore the impending headache and lean down to try and shake the deity awake again.

"We're here," the mortal was forced to repeat dully, automatically inserting an edge of command into his tone as he again gently shook the Shinigami's nearest shoulder. "Come on. Wake up, Shinigami. I don't intend to stay on a train for the rest of my life."

"Mmmnnhhh," Shini mumbled finally, as Heero's gentle shaking got through his dream world and literally shook him back into reality. The Thirteenth Son of Shinigami had the bad habit of always lounging around in bed in the morning, no matter how many hours or, in some cases, years of sleep he would get. His mother was especially familiar with the way he loved to ignore whatever attempts were made to rouse him. But when he blinked open his eyes and saw a floral pattern on red carpet he registered that he was no longer in Hell or Purgatory, and that stirred him awake. If he were in that limbo, many horrifically bored souls would be bothering him until he woke for their own amusement.

Sleep still hazed through his brain, though, and his wings fluttered as he drowsily settled back onto his bottom and began his day first off with a yawn, displaying all of his humanoid thirty-two teeth. Each of Heero's sneakers fell to the floor with a pair of low thuds, slipping out of his morning-weak fingers. Luckily, Heero anticipated it and managed not to get his toes landed on by his own shoes and then silently observed the God of Death's tiny waking rituals. Though his wings couldn't expand fully within the confines of the cabin, Shini spread them as much as he could, until they pressed against the opposite walls. He stretched out his arms and let out a dozy, happy sigh. Heero let a little scowl slip through, only because he was forced to lean to the side to avoid allowing the black feathers to brush his face.

The Shinigami then blinked over to his arranged husband with half-lidded eyes and rubbed a little drool off the side of his mouth.

"Ohayo," the winged deity greeted warmly, scratching at his disheveled bed-head. "How was the sleeping, Teishu?"

"It was fine," Heero answered civilly, though he was more concerned with getting to the airport in order to get himself home, reluctantly with a Shinigami in his charge, than he was with morning pleasantries. Though he was equally tired and had a craving for something caffinated to jolt him fully awake, he understood they needed to leave right away and what the consequences of being seen could be, especially that he had a 'stow-away' with him. Heero had bought a train ticket, yes, but explaining away a winged man robed only from the waist down and without a ticket would be trouble.

"Now, come on. We should get off the train before anyone figures out that we're back here," Heero said quietly, peeling the dark cloak off of him and tossing it to the Shinigami without looking. The Angel of Death didn't move to catch it and it flopped lopsidedly over his head. As Heero dutifully retrieved both of his sneakers and toed them on while still sitting, Shini lifted up the edge of the cloak with a hand and curiously peered out at his husband, a smile at the ready.

"Would you be in trouble, then?" Shini's innocent grin flashed at him, trying to make him return the gesture. Heero gave him a momentarily unreadable glance as he hoisted a foot onto the seat to tighten the laces of his sneakers, and the deity made a happy noise to himself. He crawled up closer and plopped down onto his haunches so that he was looking up at Heero almost adoringly, chin in palm. "Shini means, would the other mortals really be angry at you if they saw you with Shini?" he inquired with an honest curiosity.

"No. I don't think they would be angry." Finishing up one foot, Heero quickly moved onto the other, avoiding looking directly into that inquisitive face. It made him think of cinnamon and the storage shed. "People fear Death, no matter how young or old they are. They'd be frightened of you."

When he had slipped on both sneakers, Heero seemed to slip easily into a militaristic frame of mind that allowed him to cancel out the strange effects the Shinigami's strange demeanor and equally strange existence had on him and keep his mind on what needed to be accomplished at the same time. Blame it on his history, but Heero had taken his parents affection for commitment to getting things done to heart ever since their deaths, which had left him to forge his own life without parental help. He had learned to be responsible very quickly.

"Oh," Shini whispered in a hushed tone, still watching Heero as he picked up his backpack and slung it over a shoulder. When he had finished getting all his things, the Japanese man stood up and looked expectantly at the Shinigami gaping up at him in return, not realizing at first that he was blocking the way out. First, he pulled the cloak off his shoulder and balled into his lap as he asked, "Is Shini really that scary, Teishu? He doesn't understand what he does to scare them. He doesn't mean to do it."

Before he opened his mouth to more than likely impatiently ask the deity to stand up so that they could get out of the cabin before some wayward conductor could stumble across them, Heero looked down at Shini with a blank look. He carefully appraised the question as those godly violet eyes waited diligently for whatever answer he would give him, knowing that the Shinigami was young-minded and probably didn't understand what his presence did to most mortals. It made him wonder just how much contact he really had had with the people between Heaven and Hell.

"They're not frightened by what you do, Shini. They're frightened of you because of the fact that you're Death. Nothing more," Heero assured almost awkwardly, not used to the feel of heartening words in his mouth so readily. He also hesitated to say the deity's nickname again, only for the second time. However, despite the tone in his voice, it seemed to make Shinigami a tad bit brighter than he had been while asking.

Eyebrows hitched together slightly in confusion, while divine hands wrung through the dark, unearthly fabric laid across his lap. "But Shinigami has not done anything to make them so scared of him, right? Shini didn't, did he?"

"No, you didn't," Heero responded quickly, suddenly becoming more eager to get out of the train station and end the bizarre first conversation with the deity he was supposed to recognize as his husband.

The Shinigami nervously bit his lip. "It is okay, then? If he stays?"

"Until your mother comes back to get you."

From where he was sitting on the carpet, with his ruffled robes, disheveled hair, and cartoonish forked tail wagging on the floor at his side, the Shinigami gave him a disarming grin and wrapped his arms happily around the balled-up cloak in his lap, still looking up at the mortal. "Thank you, Teishu!" Again, there was the happy drumming from his demonic tail. Heero was convinced he really must have the mind of a child, or that of a golden retriever. [1]

He made an uncertain expression in return, carefully analyzing the Shinigami's face as he did so. "My name is Heero, not Teishu. You don't have to keep calling me that."

"Alright, Époux." Shini's smile was as impenetrably bright as before. "And thank you again, Teishu."

The mortal just sighed to himself and re-shouldered the weight of his backpack and began walking to the door. Shini leaned to the side silently to let him by, still keeping his focus locked on his arranged husband's face, and craning his head over his shoulder to follow him with his eyes as he got to the empty doorway, where the broken door had once hung on its broken hinges. The deity's tail obediently stopped thumping as Heero began to address him in a very detached tone-the one he used to keep himself calm as well as warn others he wasn't in the mood for any more trouble. He already had a bundle of it to ship across the Pacific Ocean.

"Yeah, don't mention it," he said quickly. "Don't forget to put on that cape, and let's hurry up and go. We can't be seen, and I need to start thinking of ways to sneak you onto the flight."

Heero had put his hand on the doorframe and begun turning the corner when he suddenly felt both of the Shinigami's arms wrapping around his midsection and pulling him back against the Angel of Death himself, with his back against his chest and one very impertinent nose nuzzling against the nape of his neck. Between them was only Heero's backpack, and it might have helped him keep his collection when he stiffened up and looked sharply over his shoulder. With a smile and a laugh that tickled the hairs at the nape of his neck, the Shinigami held him tighter and said playfully, "Hey, wait for Shinigami!"

"Get off me," he demanded flatly.

The Angel of Death giggled almost conspiratorially to himself as he again squeezed both of his arms around Heero, rocking him slightly back and forth as he did so. "Oh, come on, Teishu! Don't you know?" It didn't bother him-if he had even noticed it-the fire the mortal's dark blue eyes were shooting at him, or the two hands he had that were ready to wrench him off of him and perhaps do something to be regretted. Morning was not the best time to try Heero Yuy's patience, though Shini had yet to realize it.

"Know what?" he grudgingly asked in reply, feeling as if he was participating in the worst knock-knock joke he'd ever heard.

"Shinigami was always told when he was little never to start waking up without a g'morning kiss, the very first thing. Before breaking fast, or getting robed sometimes, even. Very important," he informed the captive mortal very grandly, leaning to the side to make eye contact with him as he finished. Heero was looking at him impatiently over his shoulder and one eyebrow had dug in suspiciously, though he displayed an expression that said he wasn't really concerned with any of his morning rituals. Inside, it was planting an anxiously little seed-it only made him want to get home even more and just try and survive for another five days with a God of Death.

"Oh, really," he chimed in dully.

Shini's sunny, untouchable grin didn't fade, and he nodded enthusiastically. "Uh-huh. And it was Okasan that told him herself, so he has to, otherwise she said that bad luck will find him. And he really hates bad luck. It follows him everywhere unless he has a g'morning kiss! Sometimes he can't find places to hide himself when his brothers tease him and tie him to the Burning Boulders! And it hurts! Always bad luck."

"So I've noticed," Heero droned once the Shinigami had finished his giddy rattling-ons, fidgeting slightly within his circle of arms. During the little speech, intentionally or unconsciously, he felt the tips of Shini's fingers begin to play with the fabric of his shirt ever so subtly, but hinting at something Heero had no intention of even thinking about at the time. The sudden lightness in his stomach resulting only helped to stir up his temper and eat away at patience.

He turned his head to again face forward, unable to look at the deity's face in his impatience. There was a noticeable moment's hesitation before he grabbed one of the Shinigami's wrists and pulled it away from him gently. But he was still firm enough to make sure that he got the message, and despite the pout, the other arm fell away.

Still holding Shini's wrist, Heero pulled him along. "Sorry, but it sounds like just another superstition to me. And we don't have the time to play games. I don't have the time to play games."

"Teishu!" the longhaired, black-winged deity protested, yanking his hand back in the other direction. He was ready to stomp his foot like a disgruntled child as his arranged mortal husband tugged him along towards the doorway again.

"We need to go," Heero insisted over the whine that Shini gave as he said so.

Suddenly, he had somehow managed to loose his grip on the deity's wrist and only a few seconds later there was a Shinigami blocking the doorway in front of him, his inborn stubbornness shining radiantly through his innocent, pouting face. The bone in each of his wings was pressed against either side of the doorway and braced tightly, making sure that no one would pass through without having to break his wings. He did his best to give an intimidating, persuasive look, but with his bed-ruffled hair and frustrated face, it was more comically than anything close to daunting.

Heero allowed himself an obviously impatient huff, only to let some of the stress escape in a sigh. "Shinigami…" he reprimanded in a half-growl.

Mimicking him, the Angel of Death tilted his head ridiculously to the side and dipped down into a deeper, more nasal tone of voice. "Teishu…"

The devilish grin didn't relent an inch to the glowering look he was receiving for once again disobeying those who would be his caretakers. And Heero didn't seem intent on caving in either, deepening the frown he wore as he looked evenly over to the deity's unearthly violet eyes. Eventually, he mentally wavered, though his face didn't budge. He had a feeling that if the son of Iria was just as headstrong as his mother-which he obviously was-then there was no use in a lowly mortal such as himself trying to compete with such a Divine's will.

"Is this a rule you made just for me?" Heero asked.

"Who else would it be for?" Shini answered plainly.

Heero frowned unapologetically at the face just across from him, but it didn't make a dent in the strange mixture of unadulterated innocence and mischief that made up this particular Shinigami, or his sly, victorious smile. When the deity didn't say anything and only smiled at him, Heero finally let out a sigh and relented. "Fine."

Tensely balling up his fists at his side to keep his temper in check in the face of that triumphant smirk, Heero grudgingly leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on the deity's cheek, feeling it move slightly as the smile on his face grew even wider. When he pulled back, his brows were drawn together impatiently to hide whatever may have betrayed him on his face and he again insisted, looking at the carpet, "We need to go now, alright?"

"Of course, Teishu," Shinigami beamed happily, making the furrowed expression on Heero's face deepen even more for some inexplicable reason. "Let's go home!" he gushed.

Heero had to roll his eyes. Just once.

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[1] In Heero's defense, he's just a little cranky with all that's being set on his shoulders-he's been living completely on his own for the last ten years since his parent's passing, working independently [though I won't tell you what he does yet, it's just so ironic for a military man like him] and he isn't used to having people living with him, especially not a spouse. So give the man an intsy-wintsy break. I made him kiss Shini, didn't I? It's not all thorns and stones in there.

Ohayo = Good Morning

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[[[A/N]]]

Short and sweet, today, I guess. I apologize fully to all of those who've kept hanging by being so stupid and in the process unable to write for the past week, but I wrote furiously today on a reprieve and managed to make a short little fluff fest for y'all. Well, not exactly a festival of fluff, but the best that I could write without going beyond my chapter-allowance of lovey-dovey. Yeah, I know, I wish I could do whatever I wanted with the two, but this time I've got a very strict plotline to follow and I just can't jump into whatever takes my fancy. Sorry. And if I break the rules, Iria has the authority to whip me. >.<' For me, I just have to post this chapter and not look while I do it because I feel bad, making it so short, but I thought it'd be better to give a little to tide over until I can get the next one out. Which will be quicker, hopefully, and longer. And then, another long wait. I'll be in Augusta at a cabin with a friend's family from Wednesday of next week until Sunday night, so if you'll be patient, I'll get back to work right away! Promise!