Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Labelling ❯ Labelling ( One-Shot )

Yes I do in fact own Weiss Kreuz and all their bishie glory! 'snore' Huh? 'wakes up.' Eh? Not mine? Just a dream? Lawsuits? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

 

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“Oh bloody hell!”

 

The yell echoed through the apartment, crashed down the stairs and barrelled into the front flower shop. Attendants paused their selling, patrons their buying and school-girls their loitering to stare up in wondering amazement at the sheer power of one person's voice.

 

“That sounded like Yoji-kun!” One girl observed unnecessarily. (Unnecessarily since, of the four males it could possibly be, three were standing within six feet of her.)

 

“Hidaka you are DEAD! You hear me? F-cking DEAD!!!” As one, all eyes in the room turned to the confused brunette.

 

“Um,” Omi ventured. “Ken-kun?”

 

Ken shrugged helplessly. “I dunno. I didn't do anything.”

 

“Go see what he wants,” Aya said unemotionally. “And shut him up.”

 

Reluctantly Ken trudged inside, casting furtive, sad-puppy eyes over his shoulder, willing someone to rescue him from the wrath of 10 a.m. Yoji. No one did.

 

(Not that no one wanted to: far from it. However, given a choice between Ken's puppy eyes and Aya's evil-glare, people tended to do what Aya wanted.)

 

Inside the apartment Ken discovered an oddly dressed teammate. Or, to be precise, an oddly un-dressed teammate.

 

“God Yoji! Put some pants on!”

 

(Fan-girl-esque squeals were heard in the distance.)

 

“You want to know why I'm dressed like this?” Yoji snarled, gesturing to his itty-bitty brief.

 

(Let's take a moment to breathe. Good)

 

“Ask me. Ask me why I'm mad. Ask me why I'm storming around in almost nothing. Go on! ASK ME!”

 

Ken took a breath. “Yoji, why are you-”

 

“LOOK what you did to my underwear you bastard! How the hell am I supposed to wear these?” He turned, and, sure enough, the itty-bitty brief had a not so itty-bitty sag in the rear. “They were my favorite! Hell, they were expensive!”

 

Ken blinked a few times before the accusation fully sank in. “Wait, what? What make you think I did it?”

 

“Because Omi wears boxers and Aya goes commando! Besides, you have the biggest ass in the house!” Out in the flower shop, the two non-arguing employees suddenly found themselves the object of attention. Omi turned bright red and ducked, while Aya simply glared at the open-mouthed fangirls.

 

“Do you have a problem with that?” All heads shook vigorously. “Good.”

 

Back inside, the yelling continued. “Damn Ken how many times do I have to tell you to stay away from my underwear!”

 

“It's not my fault they all look alike!”

 

“They do NOT all look alike! My briefs are quality! Yours are vending-machine cheap!”

 

“I don't get my undies from a vending machine!”

 

“UNDIES! How old are you, five!?”

 

“Why don't you just put your name on them!”

 

There was a sudden silence.

 

“You know,” Yoji said in a normal tone of voice that sounded mouse-like after all the yelling, “that's not such a bad idea. Omi! Borrowing your markers!”

 

Ken trudged back out into the store, breathing a sigh of relief. He survived, and bore no attempted-strangulation marks. This was looking to be a good day.

 

Business continued as usual with the buying and the selling and the pointless loitering. But peace never lasts long in the house of assassins.

 

“F-CK! WHO THE HELL WASHED MY SOCKS WITH THEIR ORANGE SWEATER!?!?”

 

 

Owari.