AN; An update within a month? ¡Que ridiculo! Nah, this is just a piece I wrote some months ago and never felt like posting. I don't really like the ending, but it's okay besides that. I don't write enough Kanda-centric pieces and, though this is like an outsider looking in, it satisfied my need. Also, I was at a loss for a title haha.
Word Count; 505 words.
Written On; May 15, 2009.
Disclaimer; I humbly bow to Katsura Hoshino, the mangaka of mangakas.
Of the few things Kanda Yuu loved, order was one of the highest rated. Everything had to be in some sort of order. He kept his room in pristine condition, nothing ever out of place, everything set somewhere for a reason. His clothes were immaculately pressed, nary a hair not where it should be. His schedule was exact, down to the very second, even f his personal schedule made him late in regards to someone else's. Others labeled his preference as perfectionism, but really, he just liked things to be black and white, this or that, here or there. It made living easier. And it wasn't an obsession, just a love, because by leaving it loose, the anomaly could be accounted for.
Amongst that which he loved, Lavi did not fit, but topped it anyhow. Lavi didn't know the meaning of order. His room was a disaster zone, his clothes wrinkled and careless, his hair lazily pulled back with a simple bandana, his schedule spontaneous at best. Lavi was disorder, chaos, red, in Yuu's black and white world. An anomaly.
No matter how he tried, Yuu could not rid his orderly world of Lavi. He just wouldn't leave. But Yuu came to realize that he didn't quite mind there being something that didn't fit in his world; after all, he didn't fit in the "normal" world. He was an anomaly to them, but accepted anyhow. In his world, he realized that he minded more the thought of Lavi not being in it. Because in his relatively short list of things he loved, along with order, soba, fighting, and quiet, he loved Lavi's messy red hair, Lavi's loud voice and sharp laughter, Lavi's constant subjection to emotion and spontaneity, and just Lavi in general. It was strange, inexplicable, but welcomed all the same because, as he learned, trying to reject the redhead was easier said than done.
Yuu looked up from polishing Mugen as his door opened and the anomaly entered. He certainly looked out of place, standing in the middle of his spotless room with his loose, rumpled shirt (though his pants never failed to cling), messy hair with its bandana, and muddy boots. Exhaustion hung about him in a cloud, but the lazy smile never faltered.
"Hey, Yuu."
"You just got back. Why did you come straight here?"
"Sorry, I know how much you dislike messes, but…"
"Shut up and lay down before you fall over, stupid." He went back to polishing and cleaning his sword, keenly aware of the falling of clothes and the shifting of his bed.
Finished, he slid Mugen back into its scabbard and placed it on its stand, the cleaning supplies returning to their proper place as well. He made to pick up and fold the pool of clothes by his bed, but warm arms wrapped around his neck and teeth nipped at his ear.
"Lavi…"
"I know, but…" A lidded, green eye stared at him through messy, red fringe.
"Che." He dropped the shirt, turned, and leaned in.