KIRAKIRA FICS

tenipuri: The warmth on a cold evening. (Platinum Pair)

Thu, 04 Dec 2008 22:02:30 GMT

Title: The warmth on a cold evening
Author: kirakira_fics
Word Count: 1,003 ( I tried to keep it under a thousand, but failed)
Rating: PG
Notes: for Niou’s birthday and katiedistance who gave me the prompt/idea to write this. Much thanks~ Platinum Pair wins! (this is the first attempt to write Platinum Pair so please be kind).

It was dark and cold as the wind whistled by. The trees swayed to obey.
The sun had set long ago as he was walking home after school and tennis practice, but he was out to get his favourite milk tea from the nearby vending machine. The boy made his way through the dark alleyway and finally reached the corner of the park where the machines were standing.

He paused for a minute and looked at the deserted park. In the summer, kids would still be playing at this hour while their parents would sit nearby and chat. How quickly December came this year. How quickly did this year pass? Is it true what they say after all? When you have fun time passes so much faster. Yet somehow he didn’t feel any different right now. Nor more sad or happier than he was before.

He watched his breath hanging in the air like white cigarette smoke before being blown away.

The boy went to the second vending machine and inserted some coins. He pushed the button for the milk tea and waited. The machine made the usual sound but the familiar sound of the bottle falling through to the container was absent. The boy checked the machine to get his drink, but as expected it wasn’t there. He sighed and tried to put his hand further in case the bottle got stuck, but he couldn’t. He stood up and pressed the button again, but nothing happened. He pressed it again and again and tried to shake the machine which was impossible anyway.

“Here,” a voice said from the right as an extended hand presented him the milk tea. “It’s probably broken and you shouldn’t be sitting in the cold at this time anyway”. The brown haired boy with the glasses was wrapped in a long dark coat and a white scarf. The white haired boy took the drink.
“Yagyuu? What are you doing here?”
“I was passing by and saw you fighting with the vending machine,” he replied calmly.
“I wasn’t fighting with it. It just didn’t give me my drink!”
Yagyuu smiled. Why did he smile?
“Niou, you got the tea, let’s keep moving. I’ll walk with you.”
Niou nodded and turned to walk towards his home.

“But, wait a minute. Your house isn’t exactly this way,” Niou said getting suspicious.
“It’s not. I wanted to see how you were. You left early and Yukimura-buchou was worried that something may be troubling you. Come to think about it, you’ve been absent minded all day long.”
“Nothing really. It’s all the same as always.”
Yagyuu stopped on his tracks. “You just did it again.”
Niou, who had walked further away and then stopped to turn, looked at the bespectacled boy confused. Yagyuu sighed.
“You haven’t said much since yesterday. You let others tell you what to do and I don’t think anyone remembers a time when you were so passive in your tennis. You may have scared Sanada-kun too much today as well.”
Yagyuu walked towards him. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes, it’s fine. My parents are away and I’m used to going home where someone is waiting.”
Yagyuu’s eyes grew slightly bigger in surprise.
“What will you do when you’ll have no one waiting for you back home in the future?”
“Who cares about that right now?” Niou turned around and started walking down the road again. He was fourteen- no fifteen now and it would be a few years till that time. All he wanted to think about was finishing middle school and going to high school with everyone and playing tennis and especially getting the cup back from Seigaku. Even if it’d be high school it would be the same opponents more or less.

They continued walking in silence until they reached Niou’s house. Niou walked though the garden door, but a hand stopped him. He turned around.
“By the way,” he said in a quiet voice. “Happy birthday.”
Niou stared at him in surprise. He never told anyone at school when his birthday is. Yagyuu had no way of knowing, right? He looked down at the object Yagyuu was handing him. It was wrapped in a yellow and white paper. A present…
“I kind of made the homeroom teacher tell me.” He said knowing that it was what the other boy was thinking.
Niou extended his hand to receive the present.
“You shouldn’t have. I didn’t say anything for this specific reason.”
“Liar. You just don’t want to go through the trouble of getting everyone presents.”
Niou didn’t deny it.
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t find what I was looking for. I hope you like it.” Yagyuu continued.
“Idiot. I don’t care what the present is… looks like a book…” Niou mumbled under his breath.
“I didn’t tell anyone else, so you don’t have to worry about that.”
“Good. Thanks.”
Yagyuu smiled again. Why?
“I’ll see you at school tomorrow then.”
Yagyuu nodded but didn’t let go the sleeve he was holding onto. Instead he stepped forward and leaned in a bit to kiss the other’s cheek. Niou felt the warmth of the lips touching his frozen cheek.
“See you tomorrow at school.”

Niou watched him walk away and then turning around the corner. It hadn’t really registered in his mind that Yagyuu had done something completely unexpected and unnecessary. Why would he kiss him? Why would any guy kiss another guy? Niou unlocked the door and walked into the warm living room. He sat down on the couch and opened the bottle of milk tea. The wrapped ‘book’ lay on the coffee table in front of him, yet he made no movement to open it and see what it was. It wasn’t important and his mind was more preoccupied with the question of ‘why did Yagyuu kiss him’.

He closed his eyes trying to think of a reason. His birthday wasn’t good enough. He received the present after all.

“So warm…”

Maybe he should ask him. Or maybe not.

HITMAN REBORN: Zero Gravity (5927)

Wed, 19 Mar 2008 16:36:15 GMT

TITLE: Zero Gravity
FANDOM: Katekyou Hitman Reborn
PAIRING: 5927
WARNINGS: seme 59 ftw, boy love
RATING: PG-Oh, I don’t know… 13
WORD COUNT: 2067
NOTES: I was in need of a plot bunny and this is what I got when I asked for one. Entirely for katiedistancewho really wanted to read GokuTsuna luff (and I don’t blame her). Perverted Goku wins~ He’s sexy, damn it. Enjoy, my fellow 5927 shippers.

###

Tsuna tries to balance the large shopping bag without letting its contents fall out and roll down the steps (something that would be very unfortunate as oranges are fairly delicate). The wind blowing picks up as the sky becomes darker by each minute that passes. Tsuna doesn’t like autumn very much. Or winter. The cold wind, the cold rain… one could say that snow is beautiful and fun and although he would agree with this statement, he always feels too old to actually play in the snow. It’s all too silly. The seasons, school, having to go grocery shopping when he could as well do anything but chores. Perhaps his mother knew that and this was her attempt to keep him close in a way. He’s not fifteen anymore. Not a kid in so many ways, yet still a kid somehow.

Gokudera stares at his cup of tea; steam slowly disappearing upon meeting with air. Tsuna’s mother places a plate of cookies next to him even if he said it’s not necessary. She returns to cooking dinner: curry and rice. Gokudera turns to the clock on the wall and then looks out the window. The wind is howling. It looks cold. He wonders if perhaps he ought to go and meet the Tenth rather than wait for his return. He gives up the debate with himself as the memory of Tsuna pops up and scolds him yet again. He really doesn’t like it when Gokudera literally runs right after him like a little puppy. But it’s not that that he’s doing, is it? Shouldn’t the right hand man always be there for the boss? He looks at the clock again. Time isn’t on his side today. Not that it was yesterday or the day before that, or it’s going to be on his side tomorrow. Day after day it seems to passing slowly… as if in slow motion. Yet somehow time is never enough. And it slips through his fingers.

It’s all too frustrating.

It’s all too silly to just be reality.

“I’m back~” Tsuna announces, takes off his shoes and enters the house. He walks to the kitchen to give his mother the groceries.

“Ah, welcome back, Tsu-kun.” His mother greets him and relieves him from the shopping bag. But she isn’t the only one.

“Welcome back, Tenth!” Gokudera greets him standing up when he enters the room.

Tsuna is unsure of what to say. It has only been a few hours since they were at school together with Yamamoto and the others.

“Hello, Gokudera.” The other flashes a smile at the 10^th boss of the Vongola family. Tsuna motions him to follow upstairs. Better to leave his mother alone when cooking before he ends up with more chores. And he‘s not fond of cooking either. “How come you’re here?” He needlessly asks as they’re going up the stairs.

Gokudera knows that there’s no real reason to be in the Sawada home, but he’s always there in his free time anyway. It’s not like he will answer giving an excuse such as ’let’s play shogi’ or something along those lines. It’s true that sometimes he comes up with weird things to present as excuses that make Tsuna stare at him as if he’s an alien, but this time it’s a solid reason. In fact, this time he’s actually following Reborn’s orders as well. Unintentionally.

“Have you forgotten already? We have a major math test tomorrow and I thought some tutoring might help. Reborn will not be pleased if you fail your classes and you said you don’t want to disturb his business in Italy.”

Damn. Math test again. Tsuna might not be 15 anymore and his grades may not be as bad as before he first met Reborn, but math always is his weak point. He just never gets it. Nor does he want to, but Reborn threatens him anyway.

They sit down at the table. Tsuna produces the text book and his notes from his school bag.

“You shouldn’t make such a long face, Tenth. You just have to study and do your best tomorrow!” Sometimes, Gokudera’s fighting spirit is scarier than Yamamoto’s. Correction. Scarier than Sasagawa Ryohei’s. Yes. Yes, that should do it. At least Tsuna is always reassured than he’s not capable of being creepy in the same sense as Hibari. Or Mukuro. He shudders at the thought.

“I know, I know…” he says laying out the notes. It’s just that I hate revision sessions.

* * *

“Tenth. Te~nth… Tsuna!”

Gokudera pulls Tsuna’s hand that was supporting his head causing him to wake up from him daydreaming. Occasionally he feels as though he can understand Reborn’s frustration at Tsuna’s attention span. Too short. He sighs.

“I’m sorry, Gokudera. I got distracted…” He apologizes.

“I can see that.” Frustration. “What’s the last thing you remember then?”

Tsuna considers Gokudera’s question and tries to remember, but he might as well be pondering the meaning of life. He has a vague idea of the fractions they were studying, but doesn’t want to disappoint him. He came all this way to help him study while he could have stayed home to study on his own. Fractions… he strains his mind, which very well feels like those oranges waiting down stairs only without producing any juice.

“Okay, I got it. We’ll just have go through it once more, if that’s alright.” Gokudera says before he gets any answer. The strain on Tsuna’s face is enough to understand that he was probably in his own worlds the minute they sat down to study. He sighs again, exhaling as much of his frustration as possible.

Tsuna stares at his text book. Actually it’s not even his text book or anything on it that he stares at. It could as well be blank for all he cared right now. He fiddles with his fingers, waiting in silence, knowing that the other is disappointed. He hears him sigh heavily for the second time in less than half an hour. It’s probably not such a good sign, considering that Gokudera has a patience worthy of simply observing in awe.

“Was it something important?” He hears Gokudera ask him. He looks up to see him putting the notes on the side. Tsuna shakes his head.

“Not really. Just…” he pauses. He can’t admit that it started with comparing Gokudera with Mukuro, contemplating who is scarier. Gokudera regards him suspiciously. “Dinner must be ready. We should go downstairs and continue studying afterwards.” Tsuna stands up and goes for the door.

But Gokudera is faster than him and reaches the door before him, blocking exit. He was always faster than Tsuna, just like he was taller than him. He always was and probably always will be taller. Maybe not faster, Tsuna likes to think as he looks up to him. He’s so serious that he’s not sure how to proceed.

Gokudera silently thanks Shamal in his head for his sharp reflexes. Perverted old man, he thinks. And then remembers that he’s not much better anyway. He looks down at Tsuna just inches away staring back at him. Those innocent eyes of his haven’t changed since he first met him nearly three year ago.

“She always calls up when the food is ready. Why are you in such a hurry to leave?” Tsuna stares at his feet. He doesn’t have a reason and he always fails at looking in someone’s eyes and lying. Not exactly a good trait for a future mafia boss. Honesty, that is. Gokudera watches as his lips silently mumble trying to form words.

“Is my company that bad?” Cause what kind of a right hand man am I then? Even if it’s all painful. Tsuna looks up. His facial expression successfully matches that of a crying puppy, teary eyes, sad frown and all that. Gokudera decides that the Tenth looks more cute than like a hurt puppy, which doesn’t help the situation at all.

He grabs Tsuna by the elbows pushing him away from the door, all the way to the window. Tsuna’s expression forms wild confusion as he‘s trapped between the window and Gokudera. The window is cold against his back, even through the curtain. The intense stare is becoming more uncomfortable by the second, but he doesn’t meet the other’s eyes. Gokudera traces his jaw line with a finger. Tsuna finally looks up, slightly more confused than tense than before. Anytime before. He’s never seen such a face on Gokudera before. Not the Gokudera he knows, at least. He wants to say something. Anything would do, but words fail to be formed in his very thoughts, much less by his mouth.

“Is it too much to ask for?” are the only words he hears from Gokudera before he comes closer, leans in and kisses him. Gokudera Hayato wonders how much he’ll regret this afterwards, but can’t help himself. There’s too much aggression, too much tension, too much frustration and agony to think straight, or at all. And it’s not like he hasn’t wished to do this before… many times over. It’s the reason behind the frustration and the sighs and that reason now has vanished into thin air. Some forgotten part of his sanity echoing, pervert. He ignores it. He ignores it because the person he’s kissing is kissing him back and it doesn’t have to make sense. The butterflies in his stomach seem to be multiplying, but this feeling is more intense than anything he’s felt before. He presses against the other trying to remain in the lead.

Tsuna abandons reason soon after the surprise from the sudden kiss fades. Unsure, he kisses him back. And it feels good. It feels better than he’s ever felt the past week… the past month, the past year. For all he cares it might be the best feeling he’s ever felt, but he doesn’t question it. He just keeps kissing Gokudera back, more and more. Am I flying? he considers. It feels less than butterflies and more like he’s in space, in zero gravity. Just floating aimlessly… Even the air is getting thinner.

He breaks the kiss but doesn’t let go, because if he lets go he’ll melt onto the floor as his legs feel too wobbly to hold him up. His feels like lips swollen as he’s breath and heartbeat are returning to their normal rates. Gokudera’s breath feels rough against his face. Their foreheads are touching as though trying to find something to hold on to. Gokudera’s fingers are tangles in Tsuna’s hair. His heart is pounding hard against his chest and his thoughts are a complete mess.

He has no words to say to justify his actions.

Tsuna doesn’t care for words anyway. He’s busy trying to collect his scattered thoughts. They all involve a certain delinquent that smokes, throws bombs around and has a crazy looking kind of pet cat. He looks at Gokudera’s face, so close. Gokudera keeps his eyes closed. He’s not ready to look at him in the eye yet and hopes it won’t remain like that. He moves and rest his head on Tsuna’s shoulder. If he were in zero gravity before now he’s most definitely falling through some kind of void. It’s a matter of time before he hits the ground, and that won’t be a very pretty sight. Or so he thinks. He wonders why the Tenth hasn’t let go yet. His arms pull him closer in an embrace and he bears his head in Gokudera’s neck. He can faintly smell the coconut shampoo he uses. It’s somehow reassuring. Reassuring that it’s him, that it’s Gokudera here who kissed him, that it’s Gokudera who is now holding him close and he feels safe.

“It’s not too much,” he whispers so silently between his right hand man’s hair and feels Gokudera tightening the embrace.

###

EXTRA NOTES: Apologies for OOCness and all that. Blame my muse and erm, katiedistance’s plot bunny that took over my brain and decided to throw a party. I’m sorry if it sucks~ comments are welcome and all that. To answer a few obvious questions, yes they are in high school, yes Gokudera is a pervert, yes I do squee at this pairing and yes he uses a coconut shampoo by chance, but I find it fitting for some reason.

Please don’t flame me. Also, this fic is unbeta-ed and grammar isn’t my strongest point. Stuff shall be corrected where needed next time I have the luxury or logging in.

Death Note: A Different Kind of Special

Thu, 01 Nov 2007 00:29:13 GMT

Title: A different kind of special
Author: kirakira_fics // bushy_haired
Fandom/Characters: Death Note / Near, Mello, Matt, L, Watari, Linda and others.
Rating: G
Word count: 1,124

***

Grey skies thunder and soon the rain will come pouring down. It's cold.

Mello is reading a book, belly to the floor; his feet moving in a restless manner. A, oversized witch hat rests lopsided on his head. He's humming along the song coming from Matt's portable game as he plays. Matt is practically lying on a big armchair by the television wearing a purple cloak around his shoulders. It looks like a blanket.

Several kids are seated in front of the TV watching a scary cartoon movie and occasionally screaming, maybe due to the scare factor, maybe due to the silliness.

Linda’s still drawing by the dining table; she has even decorated the House. Jo’s carving pumpkins with Diana, Mark and Terry. They have made a mess, but they know it doesn’t matter. Not today. They won’t be yelled at.

And I… I sit by my usual place, next to the bookcase on the edge of the white rug. Finishing another 5000 piece jigsaw puzzle; observing.

And waiting.

Wondering why this day is so special for everyone. Every year, it’s the same, so why is it special? They’ve been doing the same things over and over again.

Mello shifts around to his back and continues reading. Some of the youngest kids scream which others laugh. And I watch.

I turn and place another piece carefully to place.

Foosteps.

“Oi, Near!” Mello’s voice sounds somewhere behind me. I turn. The witch hat is covering half his face. It looks silly.

Someone whispers concern whether Mello will pick a fight for entertainment.

“Do you really live here with everyone else?” It doesn’t sounds like much of a question.

“You think you’re special not being in the spirit of Halloween? Eh?” I stare. Mello smirks.

“I’ll fix it!” he pauses and turns his head around. “Matt!” As if unconsciously Matt throws to him something that looks like an orange towel, which he catches.

Mello kneels down beside me, smirk still plastered on his face. Before I start worrying about Mello’s next move he grabs me by the shoulders and holds my head still. I try to pull away.

Almost everyone is now aware of what Mello is doing, I can hear them scream and yell and cheer.

“S-tand st-still dammit!” he says struggling. I know he’s putting a bean hat on my head. It feels uncomfortable. Then Mello releases me and I fall a bit backwards due to the lack of force he was applying.

“There,” he says sounding accomplished as his breath is calming down. Mine returns to normal as well. I touch my head and feel the towel like bean hat. I want to ask what he thinks he’s doing.

I hate hats. Of any kind. They’re annoying and uncomfortable and I can’t touch my hair.

“Aw, it looks so cute on you Near” I head Linda say. “I’m going to draw you. It’s not everyday we get to see you with a pumpkin hat!” She sounds excited.

“Indeed. A very nice Halloween look, Near.” A much more mature voice sounds from the Leisure Hall’s entrance. My eyes widen in surprise.

“L…” I hardly hear myself saying. Mello spans around. Few have realized the detective’s presence.

“L!” Mello exclaims and runs over to the man with the messy black hair and huge lollipop. Matt looks up from his game and sits up oh his chair.

Suddenly the Hall seems busier as everyone is going up to L to greet him and hug him. Everyone looks up to him and wants to be like him. As smart and successful as he is. One day.

“L, happy Halloween!!!”

“Happy Halloween!!!”

“Roger doesn’t let us go trick or treating, L! Please tell him to let us go!”

“Please L!”

“How long are you staying for L?”

“Have a Halloween mask L!”

I watch for a while as the man we’re all aiming to be like and succeed is getting flooded with questions and wishes of happy Halloween. Then I turn back to my jigsaw puzzle and finally place the last piece. Finished.

“L did you bring any sweets?”

“Of course.”

“Yay!” Some kids start singing a meaningless song about ‘sweets’.

“Watari, please bring our surprise.” A huge box is carried inside the Leisure Hall. Watari rests it on the floor and opens it.

“Don’t be shy everyone,” he says and turns to L. He bows every so slightly. L nods back.

Everyone is engaging in a battle of who will get more sweets (ignoring the fact that there are probably more boxes from where this one came from). Mello quickly grabs as many chocolates as possible and trades any other candy for chocolates. Matt is eating a candy cane as if it was a cigarette.

L continues talking with some of the kids.

Mello withdraws from the ‘candy battle’ when he’s satisfied with the amount of chocolate in hand. He sits as few feet away. I turn and stare at my finished work.

Footsteps again. Someone comes and crouches next to me.

“Hmmm…” L. I turn and look at him. He’s still holding the big lollipop.

“It looks nice. I always liked that film.” He says examining the details of the puzzle.

“Thank you,” is all I can say.

“You didn’t get any candy before, so here,” he gives me a bag full of a wide collection of sweets and chocolate.

“Thank you,” I repeat. My face feels hot. It’s not every day one gets praised by L or gets gifts. Even if it’s no special occasion.

“L…”

“Yes?” I got closer to the bookcase and retrieve a brown paper bag.

“Happy birthday,” I whisper and hand him the bag. The only other person who knows that it’s L’s birthday is Mello.

It’s the only thing we discovered together so many years ago.

The only thing that we do every year, together, with no arguments or competition.

“Happy birthday, L,” Mello whispers as he’s kneeling on L’s other side.

L’s surprised look slowly fades as he remembers that it’s Halloween, his birthday. And we have not forgotten.

He holds the bag with the tip of his fingers and pulls out his present. A copy of Roald Dahl’s Charlie and the Chocolate Factory that looks like a big chocolate. He smiles.

“Thank you,” he says. “For remembering.”

Mello hugs him. “We could never forget, L.” I turn and hug him as well.

“We never will.” I say. October 31st is a different kind of special day. It’s his birthday.

He puts his arms around us.

I feel water on my face and turn up to see thin streams of tears staining L’s cheeks.

I hug him closer and bury my face. Mello does the same. I wonder if he, too, noticed.

I love you, L.

I love you, L.

Happy birthday forever.

***
Author's Notes:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to L-nii!!!! 3 I originally wanted a 200 word drabble. I wasn’t planning on writing something from Near’s POV but I have cosplayed him so much this happened unconsciously. I hope it’s IC enough. :D

Written while listening to Nightmare Before Christmas Soundtrack.

Let me know what you guys think (unbeta-ed version, so please excuse my mistakes)

tenipuri – MEMORIES OF YOU (oshiato) (15PAIRINGS: THEME 5)

Sun, 19 Nov 2006 21:06:32 GMT

Title: Memories of You
Author: kankyuuhin
Beta(s): katiedistance
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Oshitari/Atobe
Theme: 05 – Flower(s)
Rating: PG-ish
Disclaimers: POT belongs to Takeshi Konomi. One Year, Six Months belongs to Yellowcard. The rest are just my imagination… Enjoy!

* * *

“Oshitari!” a male voice was heard in the silence of the street.

Oshitari stopped on his tracks and turned around to see who called him. It was dark and the few streetlamps didn’t help much. It wasn’t until the other man was close that Oshitari recognized him.

“Atobe!” Oshitari stared at his former tennis captain. “What are you doing here?”

Atobe looked at him amused.

“Honestly Oshitari, we haven’t met since you got into that college in the United States. Ore-sama finds this greeting rather cold…” he sighed and closed his eyes.

The blue haired man burst into laughter. “You haven’t changed one bit, have you?”

He calmed himself down and looked at him ready to properly say hello.

“It’s okay, Ore-sama knows how stunned you are. Can I spare some of your time to catch up, since we haven’t met in such a long time?” Oshitari was almost sure there was a bittersweet tone in Atobe’s voice.

“Sure.” He smiled. “There’s a small café nearby.” Atobe nodded in agreement and followed his lead.

“I hope your family business if going well,” Oshitari added not wanting the walk in awkward silence.

“Busy, actually. I’d have never thought being a CEO can be so hectic. It was only recently that my father decided to retire and leave everything to ore-sama, but I’ve had the time to adjust.” Atobe looked sideways as they crossed a street.

“I’m sure it’s busy. You’ve been on the cover of every business magazine by now.” Oshitari walked toward an only wooden door.

“My mind fails to remember at the moment. What is that you do for a living, Oshitari? Or maybe you haven’t settled yet…”

“I’m 27; of course I have a proper job.” Oshitari pushed the door open. “I’m an author, Atobe. I’m surprised you didn’t know that.”

As they entered the café Atobe couldn’t help but agree that the place was indeed small. Oshitari chuckled wondering how much luxury his former buchou could take. Then again he didn’t care than much. It was, after all, what made Atobe who he is.

“Good Evening, Oshitari-san,” a brown haired girl said; her eyes sparkling. “It’s unusual to see you here on a Thursday.” The young girl smiled enthusiastically at him as she handed some change to an old man.

“Good Evening, Aya-san.” Atobe watched Oshitari smile kindly at her. The girl blushed and showed them an empty table by the window. “I’m catching up with an old friend,” he continued as he walked to the table at the end. Atobe followed closely. He nodded a ‘hello’ when the girl stared at him curiously, but then smiled.

“So, what will you get?” she asked as she took her pad and pencil out of her pocket with slightly shaky, nervous movements. She laughed and turned the page on the notepad.

Atobe ordered a coffee, while Oshitari got tea for himself saying that he wouldn’t want to be up all night. The girl scribbled down the order as Oshitari opened his wallet and handed to her a credit card. The girl put the notepad in her pocket and left as a new song started playing. Atobe chuckled. It was strange seeing again a young girl have a crush on the blue haired man.

“What is it?” Oshitari asked. Atobe stopped and leaned forward.

“Girls still like you it seems…But it wasn’t what made he laugh.” he let out a sigh.

“You still have that in your wallet.” Oshitari opened his wallet to see a picture of the Hyoutei Tennis Team, all of them smiling back at him with such ambition that couldn’t possibly be explained at that time.

Sew this up with threads of reason and regret
So I will not forget
I will not forget

“Yeah… I guess I still do.”

“No need to look so gloomy. They were good times!” Oshitari smiled even though he looked ready to cry. It wasn’t just the memories of the tennis team. There was so much more behind that picture. Even now, so many years later he would still stare at it for hours.

“Good times…” he said bitterly. “There were so many times back then when I wished for time to stop,” he confessed.

“I know. I think everyone wished that.” Atobe said taking the photo from his hand to look at. Then he set the worn photograph on the table and reached for his bag, looking for something.

Aya came carrying their drinks, small plates with cookies and Oshitari’s card. Still blushing she smiled as Oshitari thanked her and sipped his tea. The girl left by bumping into a neighboring table and laughing softly.

Oshitari watched as Atobe retrieved his own wallet and opened it.

“I always wanted you to keep this… I don’t know why I kept it all these years, but here. You should have it since it was your idea in the first place.” Atobe reached in his wallet, took out a strip of paper and gave it to Oshitari.

I’m falling into memories of you

And things we used to do

Oshitari stared at the 4 small pictures of himself and the man before him taken at one of those machines found here and there. This particular one from that Amusement Park they went to once with the whole team. But these small pictures where just them alone.

Laughing.

Hugging.

Kissing…

His eyes were slowly watering behind his glasses, his mind wondering if he’d ever experience anything similar to that feeling again. Everything was going on full speed back then. They were living for the moment, craving to win the Nationals, which in the end didn’t matter when they lost. Oshitari looked at Atobe. The ambition was still there.

I can tell that you don’t know me anymore
It’s easy to forget
Sometimes we just forget

Atobe looked at him, wanting to see the same person. Oshitari set the picture down and sipped his tea instead.

“Maybe you didn’t want that picture after all this time…” Atobe said. Oshitari looked up feeling slightly disturbed.

“I’m not the same person any more, Atobe. But thank you, for the photos. It was a nice memory, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t believe that’s true. You say you’re not the same, yet your eyes are lying. You still keep a photograph of the team with you. It’s not just a photograph though, is it?”

Oshitari was taken aback. No, it wasn’t.

“I gave you that, because I wished the time had stopped then. Because I’d give anything to be living in that moment. Even today.” He sighed.

And being on this road is anything but sure
Maybe we’ll forget

I hope we don’t forget

“And now look… I’ve said too much.” He continued with a small blush on his cheeks. “I guess I don’t want to forget just yet…”

“I don’t ever want to forget, but sometimes it just happens.” He looked out the window at the cars, at the passers-by, at the Christmas lights lighting the busy street on the other side.

“Some day we might forget that match I had with Gakuto against Seigaku’s Kikumaru and Momoshiro, or your match against Tezuka, if that’s even possible.”

Atobe chuckled at the memory.

“And we might forget the practices with Sakaki-sensei, and all that chocolate received on Valentine’s Day… We might forget the dates when we went for dinner or to see a movie and the little notes we left in each others lockers, but when I see that photograph I remember everything clearly. And those memories are what help me go on.” Oshitari put his hand on Atobe’s. “It’s the memories of you that drive me crazy and make me keep that picture in my wallet after all these years.” Atobe smiled at him.

So many nights

Legs tangled tight
Wrap me in a dream with you
Close up these eyes
Try not to cry

“Those years were certainly unforgettable. Do people always wish this?” Atobe questioned. “Do they wish to re-live their school days? Junior High and High School… Ore-sama would definitely want to turn back time. And make up for all those years in-between then and now…” he looked at Oshitari’s unchanged expression and squeezed his hand slightly, almost begging for a small spot back in his life.

Oshitari sighed. “Perhaps we could make up for the lost time.” He finally said giving up on the questions of why Atobe showed up now after so long. They didn’t matter anymore.

“A movie? Like back then?” Atobe suggested.

”Let’s go.”

As they walked out the waitress called out Oshitari. “Good luck, Oshitari-san!”

“You don’t have to wish me luck every time, Aya-san, but thank you. I’m sure writing will be going much better from now on,” he said and followed Atobe out. He was feeling the warmth again; that funny warmth of the season. That silly excited feeling he used to have only in his memories.

* * *

They walked toward the movie theatre in the busy Square, their shoulders brushing against each other and holding hands. Who would mind in the cold December evening?

“Can I ask you something? If you’re an author, how is it possible that I haven’t heard your name?” Atobe asked curiously.

“Because I use a penname.” Oshitari put it so simply that Atobe was surprised he hadn’t thought about it.

“And that waitress…”

“She found out after she asked me a million questions. I spend a lot of time there. You’re really curious about it, aren’t you?” He looked at the man.

“Yes, in fact I am. Will you tell Ore-sama what sort of books who write then?”

“Mostly romance. Love stories. They’re all selling quite good too,” he said. Atobe should have known that he’d be writing romance books.

“Are you saying you have best-sellers?” Atobe just wanted to tease him now. He watched as the other man nodded looking amused.

“Have you heard of ‘Love Lies’, Atobe?” The surprised look on his face was priceless, Oshitari thought. “Ahhh, you know it then. I should thank you for being a reader then.” Atobe blushed as they continued walking through the crowd, toward the theatre.

“I hope you don’t have any preferences, Atobe.” Oshitari smiled and let go of the other’s hand.

“Are you trying to manipulate Ore-sama?” Atobe said through the crowd crossing between them now, as the blue haired man went somewhere. Atobe raised an eyebrow in question as Oshitari made his way back, his hands behind him.

“There’s this movie I’ve been eager to see.” Oshitari said and gave him the red rose he had been hiding a few moments ago.

* * *

Atobe leaned to rest his head on Oshitari’s shoulder and sighed as the movie went on. Oshitari tangled their finders and squeezed his hand lightly, leaning slightly toward Atobe.

“And there you were saying you’re not as you were…” he said and clutched the red rose in his other hand.

* * *

Author's Notes: At the end of the fic, but anyway...

Yes, that waitress girl… she has a crush on him. Poor thing... pats Reckon she likes yaoi? A mad fangirl.
The title Oshitari says for his best seller ‘Love Lies’ is actually a song by Bon Jovi. XD
I don’t even know where this fic came from. It wasn’t in my list of pairings to write, but the muse knocked on my door and I answered.

Hope you liked it. Constructive criticism is good. Questions, ideas, fangirlism… throw it all in. Thus ends my first OshiAto fic. Over and out.

harry potter: Silence Is Unkind: 1 - In My Wake & In My Sleep (Harry/Draco)

Sun, 03 Sep 2006 23:47:48 GMT

Title of fic: Silence Is Unkind
Title of chapter: In My Wake & In My Sleep
Author: kirakira_fics
Fandom: Harry Potter
Rating: PG
Character(s)/Pairing: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
Summary: In his wake and in his sleep only one thing dominates his thoughts.
Warnings: Slash implied.
Notes: Written for 2x5obsessions. #3 elusive dreams. 7^th year. At Hogwarts. Post-HBP, obviously. HP does not belong to me~

---

He turned restlessly in his sleep, tossing the crimson blanket off of him; sweat slowly covering his face. Harry woke as suddenly as every night the past few weeks. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand wishing that the image in his head would disappear.

He allowed himself to silently fall back and lie down; hand half covering his face. Harry let out a sigh, as the image of the blond boy still hovered before his closed eyes. The blond boy smirked and mouthed something. Maybe Ron and Hermione were right. Harry shook his head thinking that he probably was obsessing for no reason.

***

Draco walked down the dark hallway of the dungeon. Crabbe and Goyle were closely following, listening to his ranting about having tons of Potions homework again; Harry, Ron and Hermione a few feet behind them could hear them.

“Why is he complaining again?” Hermione said quietly. “We are 7^th years after all! We’re expected to have all the homework workload anyway!” she said and heaved her bag so it wouldn’t slip off her shoulder.

“Seriously, Hermione, can’t you ever admit that it wouldn’t be better with less homework?”

“Ron, what are you talking about? This way we learn more things!”

“No, we just cram whenever a quiz pops up and most of the time we’re not even warned! Give us a break. Maybe you can handle it, but I’d like to have some spare time!” Ron complained.

“You have Quidditch, Ron. That should be enough!”

“Qui—Quidditch, Hermione? Seriously, even there someone gives us too much of a hard time.” Ron stared at Harry who was walking quietly on Hermione’s right side. He knew well, by now, that when these two were quarreling he shouldn’t be in the middle. It was unwise. Hermione turned to look quizzically at the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team when he didn’t answer.

Hermione looked toward the way Harry was so intently focused and sighed when her eyes feel on the still ranting Slytherin. Casually she nudged him.

“Come again?” he asked, not knowing what the conversation was about.

“I was saying... That a certain someone gives us a hard time on Quidditch practice even though we have tons of homework!” Ron said. “But that someone apparently prefers staring at his crush, than listening to his friends or at least a decent debate about the homework workload of the 7^th years.” Hermione gave Ron a warning glance.

“I do not have a crush!” Harry tried to defend himself before Ron could finish. “And what’s wrong with wanting to win tomorrow? I’d like to get the Cup again? Seriously Ron, you are contradicting yourself. During the practices you are the most hyper and excited one. You don’t complain about it!” he said, answering Hermione’s unasked question.

“Someone just wants to have it easy then.” Hermione said, smiling in satisfaction.

They made their way up to the Entrance Hall which was filled with younger students going to lunch. A small group of first year girls giggled as Harry passed them; someone rolled down the marble stairs (sign of the leg-locker curse); an explosion was heard from the first floor; Peeves zoomed above their heads throwing candles at everyone. Hermione casually dodged some on the candles aimed at them before getting annoyed, at which point she threatened Peeves to call Filch. Nothing, but a typical noon at Hogwarts, Harry thought; a faint smile on his face.

“She always takes her Head Girl duties so seriously…” Ron said from his side and pouted. Hermione was arguing with Peeves, who was hovering a couple of feet above her. Harry eyes carefully scanned the Great Hall.

“Ronald, where do you think you’re going? You are a Head Boy!” she yelled back at him, when he and Harry were about to enter the Great Hall. Ron groaned and turned around.

“I’m hungry, do you mind?” he said and turned to continue into the Great Hall. Harry had already sat near by and started adding food on his plate, the smile never leaving his face. Ron started to walk toward him, when he fell flat on his face. Half the Great Hall turned to look at him; some laughed. The Slytherin table, finding that amusing, started spreading sarcastic remarks about the Gryffindor Head Boy and Girl.

Before he realized it, Harry looked toward the Slytherin table to find a certain blond haired boy staring at him, instead of joining the fellow housemates. He wasn’t smiling, nor smirking in the way that only Draco Malfoy could. Ron undid the curse and hurried to help Hermione out. Draco looked to the Entrance Hall and then returned to his lunch.

***

Harry turned to the page Hermione indicated. The Hogwarts library was always a quiet place, but with so many students studying there was considerable noise. Pages turned, huge books were transferred, and students were working on projects. Harry had to admit that the Restricted Section was even worse! And at this point only the three of them were present.

He shifted in his seat and tried to concentrate. The book was saying something about a complex spell Areath the Wise developed. Not understanding half of what the book was saying, he looked up to Hermione who was deeply reading another huge book probably on something ten times more complicated than his. Ron was behind a shelf, looking for something that might provide them with some good information.

He was starting to finally understand something from this spell, when someone entered the section. Harry turned around.

“Neville! What are you doing here?” he asked. Neville quietly waved and went to get a book, before coming over to talk to their table.

“Professor Sprout gave me permission to check out this new cool book that came” he explained; excitement filling his eyes.

“It’s so great that you got the permission, Neville. I’m happy for you,” Hermione said with a smile. It was no secret after all that Neville’s stronger and favorite subject was Herbology.

“Hey is this one good?” Ron popped his head from behind a shelf and held out a thick, black book. Hermione’s eyes widened.

“Where did you get that? Where was it?” she said and went to get the book from him. Ron looked at her puzzled.

“It was over there.” Ron pointed at the top shelf. “Why?”

“Nothing. I guess Madam Pince moved it. Thanks.” She walked over their table, pushed the other books aside and opened the new one.

“Well, I better go. See you around guys.” Neville left as Ron was sitting next to Hermione to check the book she pushed away.

***

It was dark, possibly after midnight judging by the quietness that filled the halls of the castle. A few candles were lit or dying out and most of the portraits were sound asleep. Harry moved towards the end of the hall, realizing he was on the seventh floor, right across the Room of Requirement. What was it that he needed so much? Why would he be here? Right now?
He reached out his hand to open the door. The room was dark inside as well. He entered and looked around curiously. The door slammed shut behind him. Harry surprised, jumped and turned to see what caused the door to shut so loudly.

“Well, well, Potter.” Harry grimaced at the sight of his Slytherin enemy. What was he doing here anyway? “You! Here! I have to admit I wasn’t really expecting you, but then again I was hoping you’d come.” Harry looked at him puzzled. Malfoy chuckled.

“What the hell are you doing here, Malfoy? This is the Room of Requirement, what is it that you needed?”

“I should ask you the same question then” he said casually. Harry looked down unable to find a good excuse. All he wanted to do now was attack him; curse him and make him spill out all of Voldemort’s plans, not really caring whether Malfoy knew them or not. Malfoy started walking toward him. Harry stepped backwards and tripped over something that he later found out was one of the cushions they used back in their 5^th year. What was it doing there?

“What do you want, Malfoy?” he asked putting a hand on his now aching back. He winced since he didn’t fall onto the cushion. Malfoy smirked as he approached closer.

“Oh, you don’t know?” he said. Harry looked up at him. There he was again, unable to listen to Draco Malfoy in his own dream. He kept moving his lips, obviously saying something, yet Harry could not hear a single word.

Malfoy knelt down beside him, still talking. His expression changed and somewhat painful looking now. Harry doubted that he would ever see him like this. The blond reached out and placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, ever so slowly pushing him closer. But everything had already started to fade.

“Shit!” Harry expressed his never-ending frustration. This must have been the thousandth time this had happened. He kept on dreaming on nothing but Draco Malfoy. He relived various encounters, in which his mind played tricks on him and things changed. But he never found these dreams unpleasant. Intriguing? Perhaps. And never unwanted. The fact that he couldn’t hear half of the things Malfoy was saying to him, however, annoyed him and disappointed him somewhat.

“You should sleep…” A sleepy voice said from the bed next to his. Harry looked over at the half-asleep figure of Ron. “Match tomorrow…” he added and turned to his other side.

“I would sleep, if I knew what it is that he tries to tell me every single night.” Harry lay back down and closed his eyes, quickly emptying his mind of all thought, but one.

Note: This is the first part. Although I wanted to be a one-shot... Go figure. Hope you liked it.

ISPIRATION

Fri, 01 Sep 2006 20:52:50 GMT

Inspiration desu~

I decided to do some progress with all the fanfiction I have to write. (A LOT OF IT). I picked up randomly a paper of the table I printed out and picked a theme... It didn't take long to write the fic, something that made me unbelievalby happy! It's been some time since I wrote something this easily.

I emailed the fic to my lovely beta reader and after it's checked out I shall post it. XDXDXD Weeee~ I'm so happy that I'll sit and write one more. Or possibly finish those other ones I left in the middle. ^^

Jaa ne~

Missing Forever (drabble)

Fri, 25 Aug 2006 16:35:02 GMT

Title: Missing Forever
Author: kirakira_fics
House: Gryffindor
Word Count: 100.
Characters/Pairings: Draco Malfoy
Author's Notes: Set after HBP. Draco's POV. ^^

Draco Malfoy closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Despair showing through, yet he didn’t care.
He shifted in the dark and turned to his side. The cold, stone walls reminded him of his home.
He pulled the grey blanket closer to keep warm, hoping nobody was on his trail; hoping that nobody had noticed yet that he left.

Soon they’d all wake up to find an empty bed and no note.
Soon they’d find out he chose to run away instead of taking responsibility.
And probably sooner than he’d wish they’ll find him although he’ll be missing forever.

When Secrets Kill ch 1 unnamed feeling H/D

Tue, 22 Aug 2006 22:58:45 GMT

I was planning on actually uploading this ages ago, but I wanted to see how it'd do on FF.net. Go figure. Here's the chapter anyway...

Title: When Secrets Kill
Chapter: Unnamed Feeling (01/??) Word Count: 2,610 words.
Author: Amy // kirakira_fics
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco, Ron/Hermione
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language. Slash. Angst in Progress.
Disclaimers: Don’t sue me for I don’t own any of the characters.
Author’s Notes: A) I decided to take the advice of my lovely beta reader and merge this Harry/Draco fic with the other one I was writing (which I never uploaded O_o). B) The title remains “When Secrets Kill” because I am forever in love with the particular phrase. C) Please note, that this piece of fanfiction, although slash, does not imply that the only thing you’ll see here are limes and lemons. Instead I will try to follow canon (any mention of spotted OOC-ness will be greatly appreciated). And finally D) WSK is written from Harry’s POV and the only thoughts (italics) you see are his own. I think that’s all, if you have any question feel free to email me or comment~! Thank you!!!!

***

Harry shifted in his sleep restlessly. It was quite uncomfortable. I’ll never get used to this… Letting out a sigh of frustration he heard Hermione shift as well, but stop abruptly. She was awake too. Ron’s lucky, he thought listening to his best friend’s deep and steady breathing near by. He can sleep through anything! Harry sat up opening his eyes in the darkness. A soft and cool breeze let him know that his forehead was sweaty. Hair was sticking to it. He brushed it away and got to his feet. He looked at Hermione who was lying still on her side probably wondering where he was going in the middle of the night. Ron gave a snore, shifted to the other side and continued his dreaming. Harry grabbed a jacket and left the tent.

The soft wind made the summer heat somewhat bearable. Still the few clouds didn’t seem to move, although the leaves would rustle and the sea would violently collide with the rocks and shore. Harry sat on a nearby rock and stared at the moon. He laughed inside and the faintest of smiles appeared on his face. Sirius was right… It does look like cheese sometimes… Amused, yet sad, at the memory of his godfather trying to convince him that the moon looked like a roll of Swiss cheese, he wondered why Muggles made so many spaceships to get there. Muggle fiction suggested that mankind would eventually colonize the Moon as well as other planets in the future. As a kid Harry liked this perspective and he often imagined himself growing up and leaving to move to the planet farthest from the Dursley family. He chuckled to himself. He didn’t have to worry about that anymore. What was that? Harry spun his head around. Was that footsteps? Maybe he was imagining it, but he could have sworn that it was the sound of heavy footsteps, dragging of feet. He turned to glance at the orange-red moon wondering about its strange colour. Somehow it made the sky look violet instead of indigo blue or black. More leave rustling, more footsteps. I’m not imagining this!

‘”Hermione?” he whispered. No answer. It wasn’t her and it couldn’t have been Ron either. He would have replied by now. Harry searched inside his pocket only to discover that he had forgotten his wand in the tent. Shit. A wave crashed onto a rock down the cliff. Someone groaned. A heavy, painful groan.
“Who’s there?” he called out. Silence. A shadow moved behind a tree. This isn’t good. See, Hermione? Trouble finds me! Harry shook his head. This was no time to ponder about what Hermione would say. Still… a little voice echoed in his mind. Hermione’s voice. The voice of reason. Darn you, Hermione! Creeping in my mind like that. You’re the bad influence. He listened closely in the dark, but the figure in the shadows would not move or say anything. Without warning the figure collapsed with a loud ‘thud’ to the ground. Harry rushed toward it while the voice in this head would say ‘don’t do anything irrational’. Ignoring it, he ran through the trees and found the hooded figure in lying on the ground, blood all around. He contemplated whether he should go and get Ron and Hermione for a moment and then kneeled next to the figure. Must be a man, he thought judging by the height and size. Slowly and carefully he made to turn him around. The man fought back by frantically swinging his arms as Harry tried to hold him still and see who it was. The hood fell off from the struggle to reveal blond hair and pale skin covered with cuts and blood. Harry stopped dead in the position he was, holding the blonde’s one wrist and supporting his back with the other. The blond man, who was yelling stopped as well. Red, teary eyes stared into green ones.

“D-Draco?” Harry dared to say. It can’t be… Why the hell did I just call him Draco? Before Harry could even process the thought he felt the blond giving up his strength and allowing him to support his weight, without breaking eye contact. Tears. Unconsciously Harry’s hand let go of the wrist and moved toward his face. Touching his face, his cheeks, Harry never thought that Draco Malfoy would cry in front of him. Still in shock that this was actually his enemy since day number one at Hogwarts, Death Eater junior branded with the mark and nearly the murderer of Albus Dumbledore, yet he was providing him support. Harry traced the brutal scar crossing Draco Malfoy’s face. The blonde closed his eyes and let a small scream of pain. Harry pulled back his hand. Another one reached up and grabbed it. Draco looked up at him, groaning.
“He’s still after me,” he whispered. Perplexed Harry stared. Who? What? What the hell happened?
“Greyback,” he continued with shallow breath. Alarmed Harry looked around. Had he been bitten? Another flood of questions rushed in his mind causing him temporary confusion. He turned to face Draco again.
“He’s not here,” he simply said as he saw no sign of movement.
“Loo-looking. He’s looking… for me.” Harry could swear he almost saw a glimpse of the ‘are-you-daft-Potter’ expression. Somehow he would love that cold, standoffish enemy back. This was too confusing.

Draco closed his eyes and groaned once again. His hand dropped to his side. He’s in pain. Wow, that was deep, Harry. Of course he’s in pain! He’s suffering! Oh great, my enemy’s suffering, bleeding to death and is in my arms. Aaaargh!
“Umm, can—can you stand?” he ended up asking. Grey eyes opened and stared back at him. He tried to chuckle, but it only cause him more pain.
“Con-concerned, are we?” he coughed.
“Shut up, Malfoy. I can’t just let you bleed to death.”
“Gryffindor nobility. Your stubbornness has no end, has it?” Injured this badly and still keeping his cool. How does he deal with it? “I kind of like it,” he added silently.
”Neither has yours, Malfoy. Now, can you stand?” Supporting his weight Harry helped him get up and they started walking towards the camp.
“What is it?” Harry asked seeing as the other had stopped on his tracks.
“Did you hear that?” he whispered. Hear what?
”Hear what, Mal—?” Deep howling echoed and cut him off.
“That…” his voice trailed off. “He’s close. You should run.” Draco said quickly taking his arm from over Harry’s shoulder and holding onto a tree instead.
“Shit, Malfoy, I won’t leave you here to be ravished by a werewolf! Are you insane?”
“Greyback doesn’t have to know you’re here, Potter! Unless you have a death wish.”
“No. You do, though!” Was that a smile?
“Run!” Draco yelled at him. Harry put his arm around his waist to support his weight once again.
“Fuck you, Potter. We’re going to die because you want to play the hero again!”
“Will you shut up and concentrate as fast as possible?”
“Where do you find this courage anyway?”
“Shut up and run, Draco!”
“Draco!” Harry snapped at him with a warning glare. Draco stared in surprise that his enemy, Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the boy who had lived, addressed him by his first name.

***

“Hermione, Ron. Wake up!” Hermione jumped from her sleep; Ron opened his eyes, bored.
“What’s up, mate? Morning yet?” he asked sleepily.
“Ron!” Hermione snapped, who had already seen Malfoy there. Ron stared at the blood covered Slytherin. “Boy, you look ugly,” he exclaimed. Harry face-palmed himself in despair. These ‘witty’ comments of his… He was sitting next to Draco, panting like him from the long run. Draco groaned.
“Why, Weasel, you considered me beautiful?” Ron didn’t respond. Was that a smirk just now?
“You okay?” Harry asked him, nut only got a nod as a response. That was a good sign. “Hermione? What the hell are you doing?”

Hermione, who wasted no time, was searching for something in their bags while throwing everything here and there. She was never this messy. Harry just couldn’t imagine her doing such rushed actions.

“Looking… for this!” she explained and pulled out a fairly large white box; Ron was trying to gather their things back to the bags.
“The First Aid kit?! Are you mad?” Ron yelled at her. “He has to go to a hospital. I mean, look at him!” he continued. “For Merlin’s sake, use magic…” he added silently.
“No hospitals!” Draco yelled in surprise at the mere suggestion. “No—“ Harry held him from his shoulders before he ‘attacked’ anyone. He let go as soon as the boy sat still again.
“Think before you speak, Ron.” She quickly moved to Draco’s other side and opened the box. Another loud howl made both Harry and Draco stop moving to listen.
“Hermione, we don’t have much time. Greyback was following us.” Harry said. Ron stared. Hermione instantly sped up, and then turned to Ron.
“Cover their tracks.” she said simply, bossing him around. Ron didn’t protest and got up quickly without a word. Hermione proceeded to her work.
“Good call, Granger, but,“ Draco begun, “why are you trying to protect me?”
“Simple. He finds you, he finds us. And if he finds us then our whole research is gone.”
“Fair enough,” he said. No sympathy, Hermione? Even I felt sorry for him and I hate his guts.
Carefully she stared cleaning the wound on his arm. Draco pulled way.
“Burns,” he whispered. Hermione gave him the ‘must-be-done-put-up-with-it’ look that Harry and Ron knew so well from the study sessions.
“It won’t stop bleeding!” she exclaimed. “Harry, help me a bit…” Right.
“Umm, what do you want me to do?” I’m clueless about First Aid stuff.
“Just do what I do, Harry.” He watched carefully as she made sure that every little cut was clean before moving on. “Just do that wound on his face!” Harry and Draco looked at each other and Harry got the message. He picked up a piece of cotton with iodine and tried to get as much blood off as possible. Draco winced and he reached the deep cut across his face. If this ever goes away I’ll read Hogwarts: A history! He thought.
“What’s so amusing, Potter?” Draco asked with a bitter tone.
“Nothing,” he replied and continued to clean the injury. Draco’s smirk was cut off by another wince.

Ron came back a couple of minutes later claiming to have done his best at covering the tracks. Hermione muttered a ‘thank you’ and proceeded to the injury on Draco’s side. Instinctively he pulled away, closer to Harry’s direction, almost yelling in pain and grabbing Harry’s free arm. Firm grasp…

“You’ll get infected if I don’t clean it,” she said. Good reason. Oh, sorry. Harry pushed too much on the cut causing Draco to growl. Hermione made to tend to the wound again, but he shoved her away quickly.
“One at a time,” he looked at Harry who was staring at the injury on his face trying to make it stop bleeding. You’re squeezing me… he thought realizing the blonde never let go of his arm. Hermione sighed.
“I’ll go and check the tracks.” And she left the tent. Ron grunted.
“This can’t be good,” he said and followed her outside.
“’Kay,” Harry said responding to the unsaid ‘I’ll go with her’. Draco flinched and turned his head around. This is getting frustrating. Stop squeezing my arm! He reached out to Draco’s face with the other hand, the one being squeezed and turned his head to face him. Draco glared at him.
“Don’t glare at me like that, Malfoy. Just stand still.” Another squeeze. Now it was Harry’s turn to glare. “And don’t squeeze my arm.” He’s smirking again… I can’t believe it. I just want that smirk to disappear!
“What are you staring at, Potter?” I was staring? “That cut—“
“It wasn’t the cut you were staring at and you know that.”
“Ha! Then stop smirking, I’m almost done.”
“Right. What should I do then? I’m in agony because of you. You’re not careful at all!”
“Just shut up. I dunno. Stare at something else, concentrate on something else.” Harry continued patching the cut as carefully as possible. Draco looked around him finding nothing really interesting and then focused on Harry’s face. Unconsciously he frowned a bit, thinking.

“You have beautiful eyes, you know.” Harry stared down at him. “If only you’d just…”

Draco let go of his arm, reached up and took off Harry’s glasses. Harry shifted uncomfortably—he was so used to his glasses that sometimes he forgot he wore them. No, it was probably the only thing that he never forgot, especially after all these years. Without them he’d be lost. Before Harry could realize it, Draco brought his hand to touch Harry’s cheek. His mind went blank in an instant. Was Draco Malfoy, Death Eater junior, flirting with him? Harry, with still one hand on Draco’s neck and holding a band aid, stared.
“You’re blushing, Potter.” Harry’s heart was racing. Why? He wanted to shake his head, clear it and with that shake the feeling away and catch his breath. Malfoy’s nose almost touching his own, he could feel his breath on his face. Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips fully on Draco’s. Grey eyes first widened in surprise and then closed, he was kissing him back. What the bloody hell? Harry pulled away and looked around. Draco’s hands were around his waist, holding him close, and he was lying flat on his back, Harry on top. His heart was still racing like crazy, adrenaline on high levels.

Harry quickly sat up and stared at Draco once again. He didn’t move but his look suggested annoyance, like a toy had just been taken away. Did I just kiss Draco Malfoy? That was hor- actually it was good… The sensation of their lips locked rushed over Harry and he felt like losing control. He forcefully tried to remember the last time he felt like this. Only when he was in grave danger. In situations when his and other people’s lives were in peril. Draco Malfoy was just as forbidden as the Department of Mysteries back when he was a fifth year student at Hogwarts. He turned to the blond boy who shifted to sit up as well.

“I’ll kill you, Malfoy!” he said.
“Last time I checked you just wanted to kiss me,” he replied.
“I’ll kill you, I said!” Harry repeated louder.
“What the hell’s going on here?” Ron called entering the tent.
“Harry, why were you threatening to kill him?” Hermione looked concerned.
“Yes, Harry, why were you threatening me?” Draco said, full of sarcasm. Ron and Hermione exchanged quizzical looks. Harry looked from one to the other trying to find something to say. It wasn’t his fault; Malfoy had started it in the first place. But how could he explain it when even he himself did not understand. He turned to Draco.
“He refuses to tell me why he was roaming the forest with Greyback on his tail. Why won’t you explain, Malfoy?” Harry smirked, but he was wondering that for some time now. All he got was a semi-evil glare from Malfoy and a sigh of relief from Hermione.
“Do something about this,” he said pointing at his still bleeding side, “and I will explain along. Fair enough for you Gryffindors?” He looked at Ron who shrugged, Hermione who nodded, and lastly to Harry again who pulled the First Aid kit closer without looking at him.

***

A/N: And that’s all for the first chapter! Hope you enjoyed. I will try to write the second one ASAP, but till then check for any other updates as well~! ^___^

100songs Prompt Table

Wed, 02 Aug 2006 20:23:14 GMT

Behind the lj cut is the prompt table for my claim over at the 100songs!

001.	Dare You to Move	002.	As I Lay Me Down to Sleep	003.	It’s a Beautiful Life	004.	Unwanted	005.	Naked
006.	My Immortal	007.	There You’ll Be	008.	Everything Burns	009.	Superman (It’s Not Easy)	010.	Hanging by a Moment
011.	Hold On	012.	Fly	013.	Someone’s Watching Over Me	014.	The Sacrament	015.	Silver and Cold
016.	You Raise Me Up	017.	Numb	018.	Reverie	019.	Torn	020.	Untitled
021.	Angel	022.	Wires	023.	Meant to Live	024.	Sand and Water	025.	The Winner Takes it All
026.	Scars	027.	Listen to Your Heart	028.	Faith of the Heart	029.	Last Kiss	030.	Hello
031.	Broken	032.	Float On	033.	Sick Cycle Carousel	034.	Miss a Thing	035.	Jaded
036.	Tomorrow	037.	Wonderful World	038.	Headstrong	039.	Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door	040.	Unwell
041.	Dance Me to the End of Love	042.	The Reason	043.	Goodbye to You	044.	Cry	045.	Vindicated
046.	Die for You	047.	Beautiful Goodbye	048.	Since U Been Gone	049.	A Place for My Head	050.	All Things Must Pass
051.	Another One Bites the Dust	052.	At the Beginning	053.	Because of You	054.	Blowin’ in the Wind	055.	Butterfly
056.	Chances	057.	Cleaning Out My Closet	058.	Concrete Angel	059.	Crackerbox Palace	060.	Cryin’
061.	Drift Away	062.	Drops of Jupiter	063.	Early Morning Blues and Greens	064.	Every Rose has it’s Thorns	065.	Family Portrait
066.	Flavor of the Weak	067.	Good Riddance	068.	Hallelujah	069.	Hide	070.	Innocent
071.	I’ll be There for You	072.	In My Life	073.	Imagine	074.	Iris	075.	Just Breathe
076.	Long Way Round	077.	Look Through My Eyes	078.	Make Your Own Kind of Music	079.	More Than Love	080.	One Last Breath
081.	Rain	082.	Right Kind of Wrong	083.	Sex on the Beach	084.	Show Me Love	085.	So in Love with Two
086.	Strange Disease	087.	Superman’s Dead	088.	Television	089.	The Times They Are a’ Changing	090.	Too Bad
091.	Unanswered Prayers	092.	November Rain	093.	Wash Away	094.	Why Haven’t I Heard from You	095.	Wild Horses
096.	You Ain’t the First	097.	Writer‘s Choice.	098.	Writer‘s Choice.	099.	Writer‘s Choice.	100.	Writer‘s Choice.

2x5obsessions prompt table

Thu, 27 Jul 2006 11:54:21 GMT

The prompt table for the 2x5obsessions!

2x5obsessions Because everyone is a fan...</lj>
Author: kirakira_fics Fandom: Harry Potter Claim: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy

1. the middle of the night by the castle clock

2. the dark things you fear

3 elusive dreams

4. an empty room full of sound

5. when everything's made to be broken

Progress: 0/5

2x5obsessions Because everyone is a fan...</lj>
Author: kirakira_fics Fandom: Prince of Tennis Claim: Tezuka Kinimitsu/Fuji Syusuke

1. the rumble of thunder of an approaching storm

2. a lost childhood memory

3. falling off the edge of the world

4. a cruel illusion

5. all that is left

Progress: 0/5

kirakirakirakirakirakira~

Fri, 21 Jul 2006 01:32:02 GMT

This is Amy's (kankyuuhin's) writing journal. The name was amily inspired by Fuji Syusuke (character from the TeniPuri fandom) and the TeniMyu Dream Live 3 (see The Kira Kira Dance).

Here I will be posting all my fics and drabbles so I expect to post a lot. I made this writing journal, so I won't mess everything up by posting them to my blog. ^___^ At least I hope that it'll be better. XDXDXD

Here are the current projects I am working on:

When Secrets Kill - Harry Potter fanfiction - First chapter expected to be uploaded within the next few days)
Boone/Sawyer fic ( for lost_shippage)
Mandy Brocklehurst for 7spells.
Untitled AU TeniPuri fic (I still need to brainstorm on this one, but I will write it.
Golden Pain (Oishi/Eiji) for 30_nights

I will make sure to upload older things as well, although most of those are horrible. :D

Jaa~