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MIZUKI AND YUUTA'S WEDDING

Preparations

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Divorces were generally messy things. There was a lot of hurt feelings when a marriage disintegrated, resulting in a bitter struggle to regain dignity and some semblance of control. Custody of children, the house, the car, the ugly lamp that Uncle Toshi gave them for Christmas five years ago... everything suddenly became a precious commodity that the person couldn't live without.

It wasn't a money issue; it was about making the one who filed for a divorce pay, and own up to the fault. Yes, it wasn't her fault that he wanted out to marry his secretary, with whom he'd been having an affair for the past four years. She was a blameless victim. It was all his fault, so he should have to pay for all the suffering he was putting her through.

So was the case of Yui. She had alternated between sobbing and wanting her husband back, and ranting at how the cheating, lying douchebag deserved that slut he was running around with.

Right now, she was at the spiteful stage. "I want to bleed him dry," she confided angrily. "Take him for every last yen and ban him from ever seeing the children."

Her lawyer nodded understandingly. "Don't worry about a thing," he said softly as he handed her a tissue. "We'll take good care of you."

Yui dabbed at her eyes gratefully. Fuji-san was such a gentleman! He listened, really listened as she bitched and moaned all the things she'd been dying to voice, the sympathetic smile never leaving his face. He wasn't exactly handsome, but there was an open pleasantness to his expression that made him easy to talk to.

If she knew what he was thinking, she might have found him a lot less appealing.

Currently, Fuji Syusuke was thinking how much misery there was in the world. All these people, people who had vowed to love and cherish each other for eternity, were destroying long-standing relationships out of selfishness, leaving behind nothing but broken hearts and shattered dreams. And he was lucky enough to have a front-row seat to the show when it all blew up. He loved his job.

He took perverse pleasure from seeing other people suffer, but that didn't mean he was a bad person. It wasn't like he was going out and deliberately breaking people up so he could bask in their suffering. His job actually helped his clients, minimizing their losses in a no-win situation, and weren't the actions and the beneficial results more important than his admittedly sadistic motive?

Fuji uncrossed his legs and rose, signaling the end of the interview. "I'll set up a meeting for us with Satoshi-san and his lawyer," he said in a soothing voice. "And we'll see what we can do."

After he had escorted her out the door, he checked the time. There was still an hour before the general meeting so he should probably get a draft of the complaint written up now, so he could go home right afterwards.

He spotted the blinking light on his mobile.

"A text message."

Sharp blue eyes scrolled down the words. Once he had finished reading, he switched on his intercom.

"Tohru, cancel my appointments for the week and shuffle around my assignments to the others. I'm afraid something urgent has come up."

xxxxx

Clad only in boxers, Mizuki stood in front of the mirror, eyeing his reflection critically. He held the purple top in front of him, then the one that was navy blue. Purple was his favorite color, but the blue went nicer with his eyes, he supposed. He reluctantly set down the purple with the other garments scattered on top of the bed and picked up the white pants to see its combination with the blue. Then, he did the same for the gray slacks and the black dress pants. Finding the right outfit required more than just making sure things didn't clash.

Yuuta hugged him from behind, garments and all. "You'll look fine whatever you wear," he reassured.

"I don't want to look fine," Mizuki frowned and pulled away slightly. "I want to look my best, so I can make a good impression."

"But my parents already love you," Yuuta pointed out as he flopped onto the bed full-length. Clothes got crushed under his weight but he didn't care. He grabbed a fluffy pillow to prop himself up with and squish as he talked. "I mean, after they got over the shock of it all, they couldn't have been happier. And Yumiko-neesan is always talking about how cute you are."

To be accurate, what she had said was that Mizuki, with his prettyboy features and fashion sense that screamed 'I'm gay!' was like an adorable little uke straight from a shoujo manga. But there was no need for him to know the specifics, especially the 'little' part. Mizuki was a tad touchy about his height, especially since Yuuta had grown to top six feet.

Mizuki looked pleased with the Fuji family endorsement, but then an unhappy thought occurred to him. "What about your brother?" he asked as he plopped down on the bed next to him, sounding way too casual. He idly traced patterns on the sheets. "Did he say anything when he called you?"

"Not much," Yuuta replied evasively. Seeing that Mizuki still looked unconvinced, he twined their fingers together and added, "Look, what happened between you two was over a decade ago. I'm sure he got over it."

"Nfu. I'm sure."

It was funny how insecure Mizuki was. When Yuuta had first met him, he'd been full of self-importance to the point of arrogance, but that turned out to be a facade (for the most part anyway). He was harder on himself than he let on, and Yuuta felt privileged to know that Mizuki trusted him enough to let his guard down around him. He couldn't imagine what life would have been without him.

Even without his family's support, Yuuta would have stayed with Mizuki. It didn't matter if Fuji Syusuke continued to snub him - Yuuta loved him. The words were there, but he couldn't quite say it. He had never been the sappy type.

Abandoning his pillow, Yuuta rolled on top of Mizuki, catching the pouting lower lip and nibbling at it gently. Slowly, he coaxed Mizuki into a deeper kiss, hands wandering down the expanse of bare skin. He hoped the tenderness of his actions expressed how he felt about his lover.

"No more talking about my brother," he murmured as Mizuki squirmed beneath him, delicious little moans and whimpers escaping his throat. "It kills the mood."

Mizuki was only too happy to oblige.

xxxxx

Fuji Syusuke showed up a few minutes early and was glad he did. The sushi shop was packed with customers, every table filled and more people waiting by the entrance. Spotting a few empty stools by the counter, he made his way over and laid his suit jacket over the seat next to his to claim it.

Then, he leaned forward, chin propped up with one hand as he watched the chef shaping rice behind the glass partition.

He watched for a few minutes before speaking. "Ne, Taka-san. You've gotten a lot better at that."

His soft but well-modulated voice carried over the din, causing Kawamura Takashi to look up.

"FUJI?"

Kawamura hurriedly finished up the sushi he was making and set it down. In a flash, he was around the counter, wiping his hands on his apron before hugging his old friend and occasional doubles partner.

"It's been so long!" he exclaimed, stepping back to look him over. The soft lines of adolescence was replaced by a more angular, mature look, but there was no mistaking the horseshoe eyes and the smiling face.

"It has, hasn't it?" Fuji settled back into his seat. "This place seems really popular," he commented, and as if to prove his point, the bell above the entrance jingled once more.

"I told you I left it in the top drawer," Yuuta's brash voice carried over quite well, tone slightly exasperated.

To this his companion retorted, "You did not. You said you left it on the dresser."

"Why would I- ugh! You're impossible," Yuuta growled. "I don't know wh- Ah! Aniki!" he broke off as he spotted Fuji, waving him over.

"I really don't want to do this," Mizuki whined with sudden panic.

Yuuta clamped down on his arm and dragged him over anyway.

"Yuuta." Fuji looked thrilled to see him. "I saved you a seat." He removed his jacket and indicated the spot, completely ignoring Mizuki.

Mizuki had planned to be gracious, letting bygones-be-bygones and all that, but it looked like he wouldn't be given that chance. He bristled as Fuji continued to inquire about Yuuta's health and his life without a second glance in his direction. Yuuta remained standing, trying to interject a proper reintroduction but not even having the time to finish an answer in between the rapid questioning.

Taking a deep breath, Mizuki cut in. "Hello, Fuji-kun."

Fuji looked surprised, as if he had just noticed that his brother wasn't alone. The act would have been more convincing if Mizuki hadn't heard Yuuta's conversation the night before, specifically mentioning that the both of them would meet with Fuji and would his brother please be nice?

"Oh. Hello... eto...?"

"Mi-zu-ki Ha-ji-me," he reminded through gritted teeth, deliberately drawing out the syllables although he was certain a poor memory wasn't to blame to Fuji's constant 'forgetting' of his name. Yuuta patted him on the arm consolingly, and that was enough to make him glad he kept his temper.

"Oh, yes. Mizuki-san." Fuji inclined his head at him slightly. "How could I forget?"

"Hoi hoi! Your wedding planner's here!" Kikumaru Eiji's timely entrance broke the tension in the air. He was easily recognizable, what with the dark red hair flipped-out as always and the trademark bandaid on his face. He bounced over to them, thunking down his oversized shoulder bag on the floor and flipping open the huge book he was carrying.

"Wedding planner?" Kawamura blinked in confusion.

"I found the perfect dress!" Eiji crowed, and with one sweep of the arm, cleared the countertop of condiments. He set down the book and pointed triumphantly. "Ta da!"

"Ooooo." They all looked at the magazine clipping, admiring the folds of the Victorian-style wedding dress.

"Isn't it awesome? There are some others, too-" Eiji rustled through the pages too quickly for anyone to see more than a white blur "-including ones I was considering for my own wedding. But the first one really stood out."

"I like the bodice on the fourth one," Fuji commented, causing everyone to sweatdrop. "It really accentuates the hips and waist."

"Fuji!" Kikumaru glomped onto him. "It's been a long time since we talked nya! You didn't even drop by during our housewarming party."

"Ahaha, gomen, gomen," Fuji apologized. "Work came up. How's Oishi?"

"He's been running ragged now that Kenji-chan's started to crawl. That boy gets into everything! We found him in the cabinets the other day, tossing sugar all over the place nya!" He threw up his arms to illustrate, sounding as happy as if he was creating havoc himself.

Mizuki had slipped into the seat and was browsing the photographs at a more leisurely pace, Yuuta peering over his shoulder with minimal interest.

"These are too expensive though," Mizuki sighed wistfully, noting the prices. Yuuta nodded in silent agreement. He hated depriving his lover of anything but they simply couldn't afford it. All the other costs of the wedding would add up, and the guest list had already been expanded to ten times what they had originally planned.

"Ne, Yuuta. I'll pay for the wedding dress-" Fuji announced suddenly.

Mizuki's eyes widened with hope.

"-if you wear it," he finished up with a sly smile. "I'd love to get a picture."

"You wouldn't catch me dead in one of them," Yuuta said flatly. "We'll both go with tuxes."

Eiji slammed the book shut, almost closing it on Mizuki's fingers. He brought out another book, this time filled with pictures of male attire. "I guess we can find something for you too, Fuji," he chirped as they thumbed through it. "Seeing as you're best man and all."

The four of them argued their way through the options together, with Kawamura giving occasional input now that he understood what was going on. After the clothing decisions came music, location, and so on. Catering was solved easily when Kawamura insisted he provide for the whole affair as a wedding present. The two broke men were only too happy to accept.

"Now I've brought some flower samples," Eiji rummaged through his bag and produced a mixed bouquet of quite wilted and squashed flowers. "Um... but maybe it's better to actually go there!"

He tossed up his arms in excitement and hopped up and down a few times.

"Yay! Let's go visit ochibi nya!"

xxxxx

Girls in high school uniforms milled around the shop and spilled onto the streets. Those on the outside stood on their tiptoes, trying to catch a glimpse of the florists.

"Kawaii," one girl breathed, looking faint.

"We're so lucky! All four of them are here today!" another squealed with excitement.

"Ne, I did a background check on them. Wanna hear?"

"Of course!"

The girl proceeded to rattle off personal stats to other swooning fangirls in a scene that could have been ripped off from an episode of Weiss Kreuz (and in fact, was).

There was a redhead, a promising ex-athlete, a smoker who did more standing around than actual working, a woman in a rocking chair with a cat, and a boy who was really too old to be called a boy, but will always look too young to be labeled a man. People would be surprised to hear that this boy, with his long sloppy bangs, innocent wide-set eyes, and a body too small for his age, actually ran things behind the scene. Currently, he was lurching around, trying to move a potted plant that probably weighed more than he did.

"Aa-!" he panicked as his green headband slipped over his eyes. His temporary blindness caused him to lose his balance and fall back, but a pair of arms caught him before he could hit the floor. Considering that he wasn't being groped, he deduced that it was one of the other florists. He peered up, tilting his head back to see his rescuer.

"You okay, chibi?" Sengoku made sure he had regained his footing before releasing him and ruffling his dark hair fondly.

"Senpai," Taichi said sternly, pushing his headband back all the way up with the heel of one hand. He looked about as threatening as a declawed kitten. "You missed your morning shift. Do you know how busy I was, trying to help the customers all by myself?"

Sengoku made a puppy face. "But I ran into this beautiful woman who practically begged for my help," he explained earnestly. "How could I turn her away?"

Akutsu made a rude sound. "Feh. You're useless," he stated, then returned to his busy task of standing there, doing absolutely zip. The girls marveled at his silent mysteriousness as he blew out a puff of cigarette smoke that caused all of them to choke and wheeze with what was probably the early symptoms of lung cancer. He glowered menacingly, as if he was thinking of shouting "SHI-NE!" to anyone who dared disturb him.

The last of the florist bishies was glaring at the person in the rocking chair. "Tomoka, give me back my cat and go home already."

"No! Not until you agree to go on a date with me!" she stubbornly insisted. Karupin yowled as she clutched onto him, hissing and scratching at her lap.

Echizen Ryoma was frustrated. He had thought he had ditched the annoying girls when he quit tennis five years ago, after the game where he had finally beat his old man. But nooo... every single day, Tomoka would come here, and every single day, she'd take his precious Karupin-chan hostage to negotiate for a date. It wasn't like he was opposed to the idea of dating and it wasn't even that Tomoka had the most annoying voice in the universe. It was the matter of Tomoka being... well... flat.

Why was it that all the girls that clung to him were these anorexic girls with stick figures anyway? Ryoma thought resentfully. Sengoku tried to cheer him up by saying they were cute but he wasn't interested in 'cute'. He wanted 'sexy' and 'stacked' and preferably 'naked'.

Yes, two decades and some odd years of Nanjiroh's dirty comments and pervy magazines had finally rubbed off on Samurai Junior. He, like his hentai father, spent much of his time off ogling glossies of half-naked chicks posed in provocative positions. Like Miss July 2010. Man... was there a finer ass or a more perfect set of twins that that?

He drifted into a daydream, unconsciously stepping forward with a spacey, lecherous expression on his face - the very same one that sent schoolgirls running away screaming from his father.

"He-hey! What are you doing?" Her panicked voice didn't stop him so Tomoka threw the cat in self-defense. This bought her enough time to scramble out of her chair and push her way out. "Weirdo pervert!" she screamed as she ran down the street.

"Hm... didn't she go to our school?" Fuji asked as she raced by fast enough for street debris to be lifted up.

Eiji shrugged and started to elbow his way through the wall of girls. "Mou, it's always so crowded here," he complained as his bag banged against some unsuspecting girl and got stuck. He looked back to see how the others were faring. They stood well outside the crowd, not making a move to follow him.

"What's the matter?" Eiji asked, clambering back to them. It was much easier getting out than in.

"I'm not going in there," Mizuki and Yuuta chorused.

"What about that place?" Fuji added, nodding over to the flower shop across the street. Despite the beautiful arrangements and the dirt-cheap prices advertised in the windows, it was completely deserted. "It looks nice enough."

They eyed the suspiciously empty shop and then the crowd of squealing fangirls, and as one, marched across the street.

"Welcome." They were greeted by a rather flat and quiet voice.

"Oi! It's you! The mumbler from Fudomine!" Eiji cried happily.

There was a pause, then a flicker of recognition. "Ah-" Ibu Shinji fell silent again. Then, "Hello."

"We need flowers," Mizuki prompted.

"Oh, that's nice," Shinji blinked. "Flowers are nice to look at."

"Er..."

"Maybe we should take our chances with the other shop," Yuuta whispered. It apparently wasn't quietly enough, for Shinji picked up on it and started his habit.

"The other shop? You mean Echizen's shop. Lucky him. He gets all the customers. It's because he got the last pruning shears. I wanted them," Shinji mumbled, intonation rising slightly on the last part. Fuji left the others in favor of circling the store, looking at the various flowers and leaning over to sniff at selected ones.

Mizuki and Yuuta took his cue and started to browse, with Shinji right at their heels, still talking. "I challenged him to a game for them but he refused. He said he doesn't play tennis anymore. That's such a waste for him, to quit. But then, I quit too so I guess I can't say anything. Besides, it's his life."

Forty minutes and thousands of words later, Mizuki and Yuuta placed their final order and made arrangements for the delivery.

"Well, it's really happening. We're really going to get married."

xxxxx

to be continued

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August 20, 2003

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Author's Note: Does anyone else have a problem deciding how to refer to the characters? I tend to use last names, but with Fuji Yuuta, Kikumaru Eiji, Dan Taichi, Echizen Ryoma, Ibu Shinji, I just couldn't. It sounded too weird.

This was originally supposed to be a reunion fic to see what kind of jobs the TeniPuri characters would have in the future, but the idea's been tweaked to revolve around Mizuki and Yuuta's wedding (hey, I think they're cute together). The story will only be 2-3 parts, but I'm going to try and include the minor characters as well (I actually looked up the names of Arai's two pals for this -_-;;). So you can look forward to their appearance!