Title: The Accident
Series: Yami no Matsuei.
Pairing: Muraki/Watari.
Rating: M, for later chapters and language.
Disclaimers: YnM is not mine. The characters are not mine. The story and plot are. Please review- it only takes a few seconds.
It was an accident, really.
Yutaka Watari sighed, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his long, black coat as he shuffled down the snow-dusted sidewalks towards the Kyoto supermarket. It had started out like every other day… gorgeous, wonderful and full of promise. He'd munched on some toast and went down to his lab, hoping to work on a new potion that would make flowers grow twice as big as normal without harming them or altering their scent. It had gone fine, until a little too much of this and not enough of that coupled with a trip over his own feet had resulted in the product splashing…
It's not as if he meant to burn a hole through his favorite lab coat... or the floor...
Tatsumi was going to be positively rabid. It hadn't been that long ago that one of the lab tables had mysteriously gone up in a flash of multi-colored flames, and the boss had not-too-kindly suggested to start keeping the accidents down to three per month. Here it was, barely two weeks into November, with two disasters already tacked onto the budget. Luckily, Watari had a previous errand he had to run; Tatsumi would get to discover the little 'accident' on his own.
Looking at his watch, Watari noted the time. "Three PM sharp," he muttered out loud. "An hour should do it."
Hopefully by then, the screaming and throwing of bills would have ceased. After all, this was a pressing errand. The blond smiled as he opened up the door to the supermarket and headed for the chocolate isle. In one hour, he would be quite a few dollars poorer and a few ounces heavier; any residual tantrums on Tatsumi's part would reflect right off the happy barrier that was known as the sugar high.
;-;-;-;-;-;
It was an accident, really.
Kazutaka Muraki sighed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his long, white coat as he stalked towards the Kyoto supermarket, squinting his silver eyes slightly as a light snow blew directly into his face. It had started out like every other day… dark, dreary and boring. He downed a cup of tea and a cigarette or three before wandering outside for the newspaper, hoping to relax and work on this week's crossword puzzle. It almost happened, save for the fact that, on his doorstep along with the paper, had been a tiny and shivering kitten looking for shelter from the cold.
It's not as if he had enough to worry about… or three other fuzzy critters taking up his space…
But who could say no to a face like that? So in the little fellow went, right into a box of warm blankets and out of the snow, into the care of the other felines that had managed to work their way into Muraki's home. Now, thanks to the little fuzzball, a day that could have been savored and amounted to nothing but reading, drinking and napping in front of a warm fire would be used for running errands on the behest of a one pound furry terrorist-to-be.
Looking at his watch, Muraki clicked his tongue. "Ten minutes past three," he grumbled to himself. "Shouldn't take more than an hour."
Hopefully by then, he could kick back with the paper and try to ignore the more dire problems of life for a day. After all, he did his good deed for the month. The man adjusted his glasses as he opened up the door to the supermarket and headed for the pet supplies. At least the gods had willed that it wouldn't be as boring of a day as he had thought.
;-;-;-;-;-;
When the doorbell to the supermarket jingled, Watari didn't bother looking up from the rows upon rows of sugary delights. He'd been there not ten minutes, and already his little basket was filling up with all sorts of delicious chocolates. However, just as he was reaching for a bag of the ones with the stuff in the center, a voice up at the front counter made Watari freeze. One hand still mid-air, he turned his head and glanced up the isle just in time to see a tall, familiar form stroll by.
… No way.
Watari quickly moved to the end of the isle and peeked around the corner as far as he dared. Sure enough, less that four or so yards away was none other than Muraki, professional stalker of Shinigami everywhere. He was studying the selection of cigarettes with the same focus and concentration that Watari had been studying his chocolates, finally tossing a pack of cigarettes into his own little basket and moving towards the books.
So, he was in Kyoto. What a coincidence. Or was it…? Watari stroked his chin, eyes narrowing as he watched Muraki disappear down another isle. Common sense said that the doctor was just here shopping, but paranoia said otherwise, and the latter is what caused Watari to act. He tiptoed out of the candy isle and sneaked towards where Muraki had gone, peering down that isle. What was he doing? Was that a… catnip mouse?
…Maybe he was just shopping. No one gets a catnip mouse for evil purposes.
But then Muraki's entire stance changed, his face turning sharper. Looking up, the silver-haired man turned on his heels and walked the direction opposite of Watari, vanishing once again down a back isle, away from the others. Curious, Watari followed. What was going on? Well, he was going to find out. Besides, what could Muraki really do to him? Taking a breath, he turned the corner.
Watari blinked at the empty, dead-end isle; there was only one way in and out of this back area, and he'd just come in that way. There was no way that…
"Looking for something?"
Nearly jumping out of his skin, the blond spun around to face Muraki, who stood a few feet away with a predatory smile. "Uhm… eh… eheheheh, well…" he stammered, taking a few steps back and trying not to think about what that smile meant. He tried to smile back with as much cheerfulness as one could muster when faced with certain doom. "M-maybe I was."
Muraki's smile deepened, a new glimmer entering his eyes as he took a step towards the other man. "Tsk, tsk, Watari… Did you stop to think what would happen if you found it?"
Not really, Watari thought, his smile faltering. He clutched his basket, scooting backwards a bit more as Muraki advanced another step; maybe playing detective hadn't been such a great idea after all. That line of thought was underscored when Watari realized he was, quite literally, backed into a corner. He had no more room to retreat into, and that platinum-haired creature was slinking forward yet.
"Following me," Muraki purred, "can be dangerous."
"Eheh…Laugh in the face of danger… Life in the fast lane, you know how it is…" Watari replied, trying to laugh. However, the laugh was cut short as Muraki's free hand slipped past Watari's head and pressed into the wall, pinning the shorter man in place.
"…Indeed."
The look on the blond's face was priceless. Muraki looked directly into those amber eyes, moving closer and smiling as they widened into the size of dinner plates. His prey's chest rose and fell rapidly; he was trying not to panic. And that silky golden hair, a few locks falling into his face…How delightful. It seemed almost unfair to toy around, since the poor thing was already staring with that look a rabbit got when a fox had it trapped. Yet Muraki couldn't help himself; the possibility for a little sadistic thrill was intoxicating.
"How sad that Tatsumi keeps all the pretty ones to himself…"
Watari was already having a brain-breaking moment when Muraki moved in for the kill, the taller man's hips casually touching his own as the hand pinning him to the wall shifted down to stroke his hair, causing him to freeze. "Ya ne…pani mayu…"
"You don't need to," Muraki purred, tilting his head and leaning in. A low chuckle escaped his throat as he brushed his lips across Watari's neck, stopping at the Shinigami's ear. His voice became a soft murmur, laced with a diluted malice. "Tell the others I send my regards."
With a small nuzzle, Muraki released Watari, flashing him a bright smile as he turned and walked away.
… What the…? Watari stared into space, then slowly blinked and looked down; his knuckles were white from clutching his basket so hard. Basket. Chocolate. … Oh. Yes. Blessed chocolate. Chocolate could cure anything.
Watari took a few stiff steps, constantly looking over his shoulder and all around as he crawled out of the isle and bolted from the front counter. Tossing a few hundred yen down and snatching his receipt, the blond clung to his treats and zoomed out the door, heading down the street and towards home. Suddenly, Tatsumi's tantrums seemed less scary than before.
;-;-;-;-;-;
From a rooftop nearby, Muraki watched Watari speed down the sidewalk. Unlike the lovely Tsuzuki, this one traveled alone, so it seemed… This one was like a curious little cat. That could be a useful weapon. An amused expression played across Muraki's face, tugging at one corner of his mouth. Flicking a lock of hair from his face, the doctor turned, glowing mist and snow surrounding him as he too headed home.
Yes, that one would have been great fun…
… And perhaps would be yet.