Author's Note: Due to lots of people wanting to hear the tale after reading "The Kumagorou Ballet" I dug up a copy of "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" and a rhyming dictionary and decided to write it. This was originally posted last year on my joint group/friends account the "Hyper-Fangirls-Without-Sleep" and I have since gotten my own fanfiction.net account and done a tiny little bit of polishing to the tale. As noted, this is the prequel to "The Kumagorou Ballet" so make sure to read that one first. Then have fun, read, review and enjoy ^^

Major thanks and credit to Dr. Seuss, the genius behind the original "How the Grinch Stole Christmas"

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How the Romance Novelist Saved Christmas.

"It's going to be an American-style Christmas party, Yuki...and Sakuma-san asked me to write a story for it," the pink-haired singer explained.

"Are you sure he didn't ask you to ask me to write a story for it?" The blond novelist asked, as he took the cigarette from his mouth.

Shuichi frowned, "No...He meant me. So I wrote one!"

"Idiot...you can't write..."

"Come on Yuki...please...I want to read over it to you before we go to the party."

"Now wait a minute...who said I was coming?"

The pink-haired singer sat down next to him, and nuzzled against his side, "Please, please, please...Yuki."

"Idiot," He resigned, "Let me hear your poor attempt at writing...."

Shuichi jumped up, and grabbed his script, "Okay, I used an American Christmas story for an example...and it rhymed so, I did the same."

"Sounds stupid..." He said, rolling over onto his stomach on the couch.

"Yuki..."

"I'm listening...just get it over with already so I can tell you how bad it was..."

Shuichi crossed his arms, and stomped over to where Yuki's head rested, "Are you sure you can listen like that?"

"Yes, I can hear your stupid babbling perfectly fine right now."

Picking up a pillow he tossed it at Yuki's head, "Why can't you just be nice for once?"

"Just start already so we can get this over with."

Shuichi nodded and cleared his throat, "How the Romance Novelist Saved Christmas..."

With just that, Yuki sat up and stared at him, "I hate it already."

"Come on Yuki...I had to write off something I knew about."

"And why me again?"

"Just listen, okay."

Yuki just groaned, and waved his hand to continue.

"Everyone who knew Shuichi, liked Christmas a lot......

But the Novelist, Who lived with the singer,

Did NOT!

The novelist hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season! Shuichi asked why. But never got the reason. It could be that he was in a bad mood that night. It could be, perhaps, that his pants were just too tight. But Shuichi thought that the most likely reason of all, may have been that he had been mobbed by fangirls at the mall.

"Or a certain idiot was driving me nuts...." he remarked. Shuichi just frowned slightly at the comment, and continued...

But, Whatever the reason, His fangirls or his pants, He sat there on Christmas Eve, in a grumpy mood, Staring at his laptop with a typical frown, And strongly considering leaving the town. For he knew that the idiot with whom he did stay, Was busy now, hanging mistletoe in the doorway.

"And the idiot will want to hang stockings!" he grumbled with a sneer. "Tomorrow is Christmas... It's practically here." Then he lit a cigarette, his irritation showing, "I must leave tonight, without him knowing."

For,

Tomorrow, he knew...

...The Pink Haired Idiot, Would wake bright and early. So his presents he could enjoy. And then... Oh, the Noise! Noise! Noise! Noise! That's one thing he hated. The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!

Yuki smirked slightly. Okay, so the idiot had gotten one tiny thing right, but that still didn't mean he was a good writer, "Oh, so you acknowledge that you are an idiot?"

"I have to portray the characters realistically, and since that's you talking it has to sound like you," He retorted, sticking his tongue out.

Then the band members, would invite themselves over. And they'd play loud music...And they'd play and play! Just loud...

MUSIC... MUSIC... MUSIC!

They would play a song they've played 100's of times before. To the point that the novelist couldn't stand anymore! And THEN they'd do something he would like least of all. Every one of them, from the agent to the manager to the band, Would stand all around, Even though his head would still be ringing. Then Shuichi would start begging the romance writer to join them singing!

They'd sing! And they'd sing! AND they'd SING! SING! SING! SING! And the more the novelist thought of this torture they would bring, The more that he thought, "I must escape from this whole thing. Why, should I put up with that idiot now? He's caused me nothing but trouble, so I'll stop him...
.....But HOW?"

Then he got an idea. An awful idea... The Novelist got a cruelly, awful idea!

"I know just what to do." The novelist said to himself. And he quickly gathered his things. And he packed and packed, "I need to get away from him and Tokyo. I'll leave him like I should have long long ago."

Then he went to the icebox. He took all his beer. He wrote a quick note, and prepared to disappear. He placed the note on the table, where it would be easy to find. He looked over it, and then his name he signed.

"Where's the middle?" Yuki interrupted.

"What?"

"If you are going to rip-off a classic American tale, can't you at least do it right?" He noted, having heard the tale at least once himself and knowing that Shuichi had just cut the entire middle of the story out.

"But Yuki...if I did that...I'd make you seem really mean," He murmured, fidgeting with his hands.

"Like the rest hasn't?"

"Uh...well, you haven't heard the ending yet."

"Oh yes I can't wait…" he replied sarcastically, lighting another cigarette, "If I can stay awake till then..."

He sat on the note his only house key. "And now…" said the novelist, "Of this nonsense, I'll be free."

And the novelist grabbed his bags, and he walked to the door, When he heard a small sound like bare feet on the floor. He turned around fast, and he saw Shuichi standing there, rubbing his eyes.

The novelist had been caught by his annoying young lover, Who'd got out of bed to get a cup of cold water.

"Idiot, now you aren't even keeping the rhyming right."

"It's not my fault nothing that fits rhymes with "lover," Shuichi retorted, hands on his hips.

"Then take it out."

"But it adds to the realism of it..."

Yuki just glared; a twinge of a blush on his face, "That's what I mean..."

Shuichi just stuck out his tongue and continued…

He stared at the novelist and said, "Yuki, why? Why are you leaving me? WHY?" But, you know, that the novelist was very smart and sexy too,

Yuki sighed in irritation, "Is that really necessary?"

"What? It's true!"

The said "sexy" novelist drug a hand down his face…

He thought up a reason quickly, but it was untrue. "Well you see..." He simply lied, "There's an interview I have in a town nearby, about which I was just notified. So I'm leaving now to make it in time. And I'll surely be home by this evening's dinnertime."

"Rhyming "time" with "time" sounds stupid."

Poking a finger at Yuki's side, Shuichi just smirked, "You're just being grumpy because I called you sexy in the story...."

And his lie was enough to satisfy the singer. Then he patted his head, and he got him a drink and sent him to bed. And when Shuichi went back to the couch and fell back asleep, the novelist took his bags and out the door he did creep.

Yuki could see that it was getting harder and harder for Shuichi to continue the story, but considering how truthful this scenario had been, he chose to say nothing to him about it.

Then the last thing he took, was a picture from their wall. Then he went to the airport, to arrange for a flight, He was planning to leave him on that Christmas night.

And as he waited at the airport, the sky looked all dreary, He could only picture Shuichi screaming "I hate you, Yuki Eiri!"

Then, the thought made him feel more and more dreary. And he muttered to himself, "Damn yourself, Yuki Eiri..."

It was a quarter past dawn....

As a picture he took out...

As he left to go out...

As he walked up the stairs, his mind just kept saying. Stupid holiday, Stupid picture, Stupid idiot, Stupid singer, Stupid Shuichi, Stupid everything.

"I should have known this wouldn't work, it didn't before" He walked down the hall and stopped by the front door. "And I'm back here again.." he muttered to himself. "He's just waking up. If he found the note, I know what he'll do. His mouth will hang open a minute or two, then that idiot will just start sobbing."

"That's a noise," the novelist sighed, "That I must do something about." So he paused. And the novelist put his ear to the door. And he heard a sound rising over the sobs. It started out low, then it started to grow...

But the sound wasn't sad... Why, this sound sounded like a song... It couldn't be so! The other band's singer had the others join along.

He listened closer to the song, The lyrics he'd seen before. It was from when he'd found him New York, after busting through the floor.

Every one of them, from the agent to the manager to the band, had also started singing. And now the words he would understand.

No matter where he went, Shuichi would be there. Always there. Because deep down inside, he really did care.

And the novelist, with his hand raised to knock on the door, Stood pondering and pondering: "What did I do this for? It doesn't matter where I go. It doesn't matter where I run. It doesn't matter because I can't forget that one." And as he heard the song dying down inside, Then the novelist thought of something he could never have denied. "Maybe Christmas," he thought, "is just an idiot's whim, maybe Christmas....perhaps.....is just like him."

And what happened then....? Well....on the door he knocked, And he could tell that Shuichi was shocked. And the minute he set his foot back inside. Shuichi ran to him, and in his arms he cried. And no one ever found out why he came back that Christmas day, but he had truly saved Shuichi's holiday."

Shuichi closed his eyes, waiting for the standard "You can't write" comments but, Yuki just sat there staring at him. After a few moments of silence, Shuichi dared to ask, "So...um...how was it?"

"The writing is still primary level...but..."

"But?"

"But for an idiot you can sure make things emotional," He said smirking slightly.

At that, the pink-haired singer's eyes sparkled and he launched himself onto Yuki, wrapping his arms around him, "Thank you." He whispered.

"Idiot..."

"Are you sure it's okay for me to tell this in front of the others?" Shuichi dared to ask.

"Knowing you, they already know more than they should about the entire incident when I left before...just take the "lover" part out"

"But Yuki!"

"It's bad enough already, you do not need to talk about that as well..."

"But you said it on TV once, what's the difference?"

Yuki paused, okay, so he had a valid point- for once.

"It doesn't rhyme."

"It's the thought that counts."

"You are such an idiot...Fine- as long as the other idiots keep their mouths shut about it...and don't mention anything about it ever again..."

Shuichi grinned and nodded.

A knock came to the door, and pink-haired singer bounced over to answer it.

"Come on Yuki! It's time for the party!"

K-san and the two other band members waited outside.

"And what if I said I had something else to do?" Yuki said, nonchalantly.

Shuichi bit his lip and was about to say something when the cock of a gun was heard, as K-san stepped in.

"Bad for you..." The American ground out in English.

Yuki looked over to the gun now pointed at his head, "Fine...I'm going..." He grumbled standing, "Stupid whim of an idiot..."

And next to him, Shuichi smiled.

THE END