Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Elmo ❯ Chapter 3 ( Chapter 3 )

I've decided to turn this into a part comedy since I'm having fun trying to act out Kenken's mind.

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Elmo

Chapter 3

I think my status on his list has increased dramatically since our first chin-up competition; upped from "infectious toe itch" to "tolerable buzzing noise." Oh yes, I know, the amount of gratitude I must return is immeasurable. It's still an improvement nonetheless. He's not exactly what people would call friendly but he usually responds or at least grunts when I talk to him now. Sometimes he even looks at me like I'm really there. Hell, it's even better than being treated like a piece of furniture!

Despite the slow bonding progress the only times I absolutely *know* he's paying attention to me are when we are engaged in some sort of contest. That first match has given him a taste for blood so to speak. He's a vampire, I swear! Or at least some friggen ravenous leach. At least five times a day, he comes up with this new challenge. His favourites range from a repertoire of physical challenges, most taking place in the gym; chin-ups (VAMPIRE!!!!), push-ups, sit-ups, bench presses, free weights, running laps, soccer, you name it, we've done it.

There's only so much you can do physically before your body bitches at you. By the third day, my muscles were screaming, it was getting to the point where rolling over became a chore. Luckily, he's human too and so he's opted for other means to best me. That guy likes to turn everything into a competition. Whenever he wins, he never rubs it in and whenever he loses, he doesn't throw temper tantrums… it's just that loses only add to his unwavering determination. I've never met anyone as competitive as him. Thing is, I'm even more attracted in him. He's incredibly sexy when he's concentrating. Think I lost a few times because I was too busy drooling.

Too bad, he hasn't shown any other interest in me though; day in and day out he only wants to battle. I've lost track of the score already, my brain is oxygen deprived and my body is completely sore. Even if things are somewhat toned down now, I'm still exhausted. Even trudging in line right now is a feat. I grab the ugly green plastic tray and lugged it up to the metal bars to slide it along to collect the daily mush. Dinnertime. Yay. I'm less than thrilled with the guck they serve here, makes me think the real punishment isn't from being locked away, but being forced to eat what they serve.

Ran's in front of me standing perfectly upright and all. It's amazing how he still has the energy to walk so gracefully when I'm nearly crawling along the floor like some rodent. We take our usually seats by the far corner and both of us stare at our plates in contemplative silence. Looks like he's wondering whether or not it's alive too.

"Fastest to finish wins."

Guess not.

Figures he wants to see who can inhale our meals the fastest. I'd have no problem with it normally, I can stuff my face just as well as the next guy… except that I can't say I trust the grub they dish out here. I was pretty wary of the food from day one, only eating what looked edible and that was generally the grains. What currently lies in front of me looks like lumpy orange mashed potatoes with freckles and a bad hair day. I don't consider myself a picky eater; I also don't consider this shit food.

"How can you eat this- this stuff?"

He picks up his utensil and shrugs. "You get used to it. Ready to start?"

"No! This," I poke at the gooey substance with my plastic fork for emphasis, and shudder as it gurgles back at me in protest, "is not food."

"Suit yourself." He shrugs once more and starts to eat 'it.'

I shudder again. Gross.

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RAAAAARRRRRWWWWWW

There goes my stomach for the umpteenth time tonight. I'm so hungry. A little serving of rice and a tiny bun really isn't very filling and that's all I've been eating for the last few days. With the intensive workouts it's no wonder I have no energy to do anything. Lying on my stomach isn't working, but at least it's drowning out the noises a little. I don't want my growling stomach to keep Ran and my neighbours up. What I wouldn't give for a decent meal right now, I'd kill for some steaming hot miso soup, some crispy fried tempura and mouth-watering teriyaki steak, mmm… steak. I'd even scarf down whatever Yotan makes… wow I'm really desperate. But I'm sooooo hungry I'm going to eat my pillow soon! It's soft, it could be made of feathers, and feathers come from birds, roast chicken…

Raaaaarrrrrwwwww

Arrg I can't take it anymore! I bolt up in bed and throw my covers off as I swing my legs over the rock hard mattress- and see a dark figure looming over me! Instinctively, adrenaline courses through my blood as I tense up and get ready to defend my life. I barely manage to prevent a fatal kick to Ran's groin when I recognize who it is at the last moment.

"Ran! Don't do that!" He looks smugly at me and it makes this even more embarrassing. When the heck did he get down here?! This is all your fault, Stomach!

"You didn't seem asleep."

"So you decide to scare the shit outta me?"

"It's not my fault if you scare easily." Oh that was low. He's grinning, does that a lot these days the bastard. I take a deep breath and run a shaky hand through my tousled hair to calm myself down. He completely caught me off guard. You do not sneak up on hungry and aggravated assassins, I'm glad I stopped myself in time before any damage was made. How do I go about explaining I'm so jumpy because years of surviving as an assassin have taught me that all dark mysterious creeping figures are potential threats to my life? Of course, even the smallest things like a scurrying rat or an unlikely roommate set me off. My head is turned to the side in hopes of hiding the blush I know that's staining my cheeks, at least it's dark. I sure showed him how composed I am.

"Here."

I look and notice a small package in his hands. What's he doing giving me a box?

"Food. Take it."

Food?

FOOD!!!

Nearly every rational thought gets thrown to the wolves at the mention of food for me, hopefully real food. But before I sink my teeth into the cardboard box with Ran's hand attached, I manage to somewhat collect myself. Ran has food fit for human consumption and he's giving it to me? Me, whose been annoying him constantly since day one. Me, who he must view as some sort of rival hence the constant challenges. Me, Ken. … I don't know what to say.

"It's not poisoned." He thrusts the parcel towards me again and this time I take it. I pull apart the flaps and it's like opening the biggest and best present under the tree on Christmas day…

"CANDY!"

There's candy and chocolates and even a pack of Pocky! Before I know it, I've already launched myself at him in a big bear hug. The sudden impact knocks us both off balance and we topple to the floor. We land with a synchronous "oof" as the air is pushed out of our lungs. Considering the whole situation topped off with seeing Ran as my floor mat and the bewildered expression on his face, I can't help but start to laugh. Even my stupid stomach seems to be leaving me in peace. My chuckles die off eventually and I bury my head into a wonderful warmth… smells nice too. Belatedly, I realize just how compromising our positions are. I'm lying in between his legs with my head resting on his strong chest and my arms still wound around his torso. Looking up I catch him regarding me with a soft smile and my heart gives a little jump. This is the first time I've seen him like this. He's so beautiful when he smiles.

"Your stomach was keeping me up. Get off."

Ah, my not-so-charming Prince Charming.

Reluctantly, I extract my arms and push myself into a sitting position and I wonder if I'm pouting right now. I was so warm. "Sorry. Got carried away."

"I thought you were hungry."

Right, I am! Quickly grabbing the forgotten package from the bed I nearly tear at the stubborn packaging and begin to munch happily away. Chocolate Pocky never tasted *so good*.

"Where'd…dya get…thesh?" I ask between mouthfuls. I know it's rude, but I'm a starving man here, manners are the least of my concern.

Ran shakes his head and seats himself on the foot of my bed. "Everything has a price."

"Nn?"

"You buy them. Where do you suppose people get their cigarettes?"

"Oh. How 'd yeh buy weet-tout muuney?" ~Swallow. "They took all of my things, the guards I mean."

"Work."

"Here?"

"There are many tasks you can perform for an income. For example, since you hate the cafeteria food, you can apply for a position in the kitchen. They probably won't let you near the knives. Still, you might take part in some of the preparation process and it could make a difference. That is, if you can cook."

"Cook? Ahahaha, Cook's my middle name!" He's looking at me funny… as if he doesn't believe me! Okay so he shouldn't. "… Well, actually… its just Ken and I can't cook…" Damn, I'm bad at lying. Or maybe I can't lie to him, I don't know, I know I shouldn't have this feeling, but if he asked I'd probably tell him everything.

Actually, I remember now. The second day out of solitary confinement, I recall seeing businesses going on, I've been too tired and starved to remember properly though. I guess I might as well work in the kitchen while I'm here, I could add a dynamic touch, very dynamic. Hey! No one's perfect, just because a guy burns down a kitchen once or twice doesn't mean he'll do it again, all I need is a little practice. Tomorrow at breakfast I'm marching up to there and asking for the job.

"Then what do you do?"

"…"

"Ran?"

"…"

Back to this huh? Fine then, it shouldn't be too difficult to figure this out on my own. Let's see, when we're not competing the only places Ran frequents are the gym and the library. He's always busy working out at the gym, more like a customer than an employee. At the library he reads a lot and I thought it was just his obsessive compulsive neat freak nature that drove him to tidy the place. He is quite meticulous even out of the library though, still, no typical patron shelves that many misplaced books. We have a weiner!

"You're the librarian aren't you?" Hehehe Ran the librarian, that's kind of amusing, all he needs is a granny shawl… no wait… Ken the lunch boy doesn't sound very flattering either. Better shut my mouth.

Back to the food. I didn't even realize it, there's nothing but junk food here. "I wouldn't have pinned you as the type to hoard candy Ran." I say as I flash him a mischievous grin. He blushes in embarrassment I think. I'm just teasing, I'm grateful for his offer regardless of what the food was, I'd even appreciate it if he offered me a single stale piece of cracker.

"It just keeps well. If you are done now, I am going back to sleep."

Ran gets up and swiftly climbs the bunks out of my sight. I lie there staring at the bottom of his bunk. I practically ate all of his rations and he doesn't seem to mind the least, what a guy. I see more and more of his true character each passing day, perhaps his real self is more like the smiling and open persona he displayed tonight.

"Ran,"

"What?"

"Thanks."

"…Goodnight Ken."

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"I want to work in the kitchen."

"You do though."

"In the kitchen-kitchen, not in the front."

"Why boy? You don't like the front?"

"It's not that," well, it is. It's embarrassing wearing a hair net, but the point is all I do is carry trays, dish out slop, and wash dishes, how am I supposed to improve the quality of meals this way? "I want to help make the food instead of just serve it."

"Hmm, well, we are short on hands back here and you've been a good helper so far. You know how to handle a frying pan boy?"

"Of course-" not.

"Great, you're hired."

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Oh. The fire's not supposed to spread like that. Okay, don't panic, where's the fire extinguisher? The kitchen's so big and cluttered and no one's around to help, there was an incident about the food in the cafeteria and everyone has flocked there whether to straighten things up or just gossip, I have better things to do, like fry these vegetables. It's not my fault the bloody handy is so worn out it burns my hand, I only wanted to use the tablecloth as modified insulation, beats me how it caught a little spark. I thought I threw a bowl of water into it, but water ain't supposed to do this. No biggie, I can handle it. It's got to be in here somewhere. Bright red, look for bright red. No, not at the fire, it looks a little bigger now and starting to spread more it's getting a little hot in here, calm down, I just need to put it out. Everything will be fine. Everything will be fine once I find the fire extinguisher… WHERE THE FUCKIN HELL IS IT???!!!

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"And they fired you?"

"Yeah, at first they wanted me to work off the damage seeing I burnt off a chunk of the kitchen, but decided against it. I'm prohibited to ever step foot in there again."

"Wise decision."

"Shut up Ran."

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I ended up eating the food in the end. At the very least, my short-lived catering career let me see that they used real ingredients and not newspaper or cow hooves, I suspect the cooking process rearranges the molecular build somehow, they probably let some idiot who doesn't know what they're doing cook the food. Eventually, you get used to it, kinda like Youji's smoking. It's foul and hard to breathe at first. As time passes, your senses are numbed, and it's then that you suddenly realize, you hardly taste the difference! Or taste at all!

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TBC