farenmaddox (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
farenmaddox) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
kurofai2012-08-31 05:38 pm
farenmaddox) wrote in kurofai2012-08-31 05:38 pm
Harlequin Challenge - Prompt #4
I'm submitting my entry early because it's finished and I can.
Story: Here to Stay (original book title No Average Joe)
Rating: G
Warnings: This might be the worst thing I've ever written in the fandom?
Summary: Fai's car and possessions are stolen in the middle of a road trip, and local bar & grille owner Kurogane helps him out. Kurogane's young daughter Tomoyo is so cute that Fai does not mind her constant invasions of his privacy.
Notes: So Faren had no intention of participating in the Harlequin challenge. None. She was sitting this contest out. Then two days before the fics were due,mikkeneko challenged her. Said she bet Faren couldn’t write a fic for one of the prompts with only 1,000 words (the minimum requirement set forth in the challenge). Faren never backs down from a challenge, but wheedled Mikke into a 5K word limit. So Harlequin fic, written in less than two days, with less than 5,000 words.
Did it. Did it like a boss in ONE day. 4600 words, aw yeah. Granted, this is a piece of plotless fluff. Tomoyo has no mother or clear place of origin, Fai has Generic Bitter Backstory Syndrome, Kurogane runs a bar because LOL that’s totally a thing Kurogane would do for a career. What is character development and how do I. I have dubbed my lack of concern for detail the Harlequin Handwave. Enjoy?
HERE TO STAY
(now showing on the Lifetime Channel)
She’d been peeking through a crack in the door for at least ten minutes, or at least that was when he’d noticed her. She thought he didn’t see her.
He didn’t want to startle her, so he briskly snapped out the folded-up sheets and began tucking the corners under the bare mattress while he spoke.
“Hello, Tomoyo,” he said, sing-song. “You can come in, if you’d like.”
The door cracked open a little wider. “You know my name?” she asked breathlessly.
“Your dad told me.”
The door opened even more fully, although she hid half-behind it, only showing him one of her deep brown eyes. She was shy, it seemed.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Fai,” he answered, still working on making the bed. The down comforter had been put away in a chest for some time, it seemed, and smelled strongly of cedar wood. He held it to his nose and sighed with pleasure. All of his own things had retained a lingering smell of cigarette smoke, no matter how many times he washed them after getting out of his aunt’s house. This was nice. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to come in?”
She sidled slowly into the garage, but left the door to the house open. “Do you live here now?”
He smiled at that, taking care to make it look like a real smile and not a bitter declaration of how inevitably life always seemed to screw him over. “Seems that way.”
“Did Papa show you how to use the stove?”
The tour had been practical and no-nonsense, and Fai was incredibly grateful that Kurogane had simply shown him the basics and left him alone. He seemed to sense how close Fai was to the edge of his control right now, and the warm spot in his chest at the man’s quiet understanding was the only thing about him that was warm right now.
“He did, thank you. I was about to make myself some tea. Would you like to have a cup of tea with me?”
Fai may not have children of his own, but he knew how it had felt as a child when his own home had been upset. Maybe he was at the end of his rope right now, but this little girl had a stranger in her house and needed to feel safe. He couldn’t muster up the energy to deal with his unfairly-attractive new boss and landlord, but he felt like he’d better dig deep and find something for Tomoyo.
“Papa said not to bother you,” she said doubtfully, fingering nervously at the long braid of dark hair that spilled over her shoulder.
“It’s not a bother at all,” he said with a warm smile, and held out his hand to her. “Will you show me where the cups are?”
She thought about it for a moment, then nodded and skipped through the gap in the partition wall that separated the bedroom area from the living and dining area. The apartment Kurogane had built in his garage wasn’t fancy, but it was snug and clean and furnished, and Fai was far from the luxury of being choosy right now.
“The cups are up there,” she said, pointing to the unfinished wooden cupboard above the little sink and stove in the tiny kitchenette. “But there isn’t a microwave to make hot water,” she objected.
There were only a few dishes stocked in the little kitchen, but there was a saucepan. Fai filled it up in the sink and flicked on the stove.
“Oh,” Tomoyo said in surprise. “I didn’t think about that.”
Fai winked at her. “I’m pretty clever sometimes.”
She giggled, and helped him by carefully placing tea bags into the two coffee mugs he’d dug out. They’d once been part of a set, it seemed, since they were both plain and serviceable and white, but one was chipped and there were only three in the cupboard. Fai suspected Kurogane had brought them home from his restaurant. He’d find out tomorrow when he started working, he supposed.
There were only a few basic things in here, leftovers from the previous occupant that wouldn’t spoil and which Kurogane had left alone instead of removing. A box of green tea bags, an unopened box of spaghetti noodles, a jar of peanut butter. Fai had never waited tables before, so he didn’t know what to expect his pay to look like and hoped he’d have enough for some groceries soon. Kurogane was practically giving him this place for free, rent-wise. The payment was so low that Fai suspected Kurogane had made up the figure on the spot and hadn’t even intended to charge Fai at all until he insisted on knowing what the rent would be before agreeing to move in.
“Papa didn’t tell me you were pretty,” Tomoyo said suddenly.
Fai was in the process of pouring out the hot water into the cups, and he was lucky he didn’t dump it all over himself. He laughed as he set the pan in the sink and carried both cups over to the tiny little bistro table.
“Well, he didn’t tell me you were, either,” he said, leaning over and crossing his eyes to make her laugh. “I guess he thought it was obvious, right?”
Tomoyo did laugh, and sat down at the table and dragged her cup over to herself eagerly. “I never had this kind before.”
“It’s hot, be careful,” he warned.
She took his admonishment seriously, blowing on the tea and making little ripples. She sipped it. “It’s okay,” she said cautiously.
Fai laughed again. “It’s okay if you don’t like it. You don’t have to.”
He drank deeply of his. He’d been sick with worry and loss all day, and the tea was incredibly soothing both in its warmth and familiarity. He cradled the cup in his hands, turning the chipped part of the rim carefully away from himself. He’d made sure not to give the broken one to Tomoyo. Tomoyo was watching him drink, swinging her slipper-clad feet under the table.
“I like it,” she pronounced, and took another drink. “Mister Fai?”
“Yes, princess?”
She giggled and watched her feet kicking back and forth. “Did Papa tell you to call me that?”
“No . . .”
“Papa always calls me his princess.”
“Well, then you must be royalty for sure,” Fai smiled. “What were you going to say, sweetheart?”
“Are you sad?”
He froze with the mug nearly touching his lips. “Why would you say that?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her pretty face screwed up in concern. “You seem like you’re sad. Are you okay? Do you need Papa? Papa’s really good at making you feel better when you’re sad.”
Fai blew out a deep breath. “That’s very kind of you,” he said sincerely. “I guess I am a little bit sad, but your Papa already helped me with that. He gave me a job at his restaurant and he’s letting me live here, so that’s a big help.”
“Did something bad happen to you?”
“I’m afraid so,” he said, his smile still forced. She seemed like such a mature child, really, but she couldn’t be more than six or seven, she didn’t need to be hearing all this. “But you know what? I feel much better now that I have a friend to drink tea with. I’m glad I have you to cheer me up!”
Tomoyo perked up at that. “Do you like drawing?” she asked as she took a big gulp of her tea. It was clear she still didn’t really like the stuff, but she wanted to impress him. She was completely adorable. Fai was nonplussed. How was the gruff owner and operator of the town’s bar responsible for this sweet little girl?
He’d lost his art supplies, too. Reminded of that, he actually felt a little short of breath. Painting was . . . It was how he spoke. It would be a long, long while before he’d amass enough money to replace his stolen painting materials. He couldn’t do that until he’d somehow scraped together the money for another car so he could leave here.
How had this even happened to him? Fai had never had the best of luck, but this was on a whole new level of bad luck. His home life as a child had been unstable at best, his life as a young adult characterized by an inability to find a place he fit in. Painting was a refuge and a language, and his fingers were already itching to capture the breath-stealing landscape of this little Colorado town, nestled as it was between high, snow-capped mountains.
He’d fallen asleep on a bench at a rest stop and woken up to find his car and everything he owned missing. Someone had jacked his car while he’d been taking a quick nap, and with it they’d taken his art supplies, all the money he’d saved up, and the tiny hope for a happy future he’d been clinging to as he made the lonely drive toward a new life in Portland. He’d hitchhiked to the nearest town, which happened to be named Paradise and which gave him the passing urge to vandalize the sign because this was far from Paradise. It cheerfully proclaimed its population of 1,632 people. There had been more people than that in Fai’s high school and he wasn’t sure why they were proud enough of the number to put it on a sign. Well, it was 1,633 now. For a while, anyway.
He’d had two tens in his pocket and had given one of them to the driver who’d picked him up to say thanks. He’d spent his last crumpled bill on food, because he was famished. Apparently it wasn’t every day a drifter sat morosely at your bar picking at a chicken sandwich and wondering if it was his last meal, because Kurogane had somehow noticed him and come over and prodded him into telling the whole story. Fai hadn’t meant to, it had just sort of happened somehow. At the end of the telling, he’d put his head down on the bar counter and fallen into embarrassed silence.
“I’m looking for some help around here,” the man had said, not even looking at him, just polishing a few freshly-washed glasses. “Just waiting on tables and stuff. It’s not the most glamorous job, but it’s something, right? And I converted my garage into an apartment a few years back that’s vacant right now. You can stay there until you find something better.”
Fai had been speechless for a moment, before choking out, “Why?”
“Told you, I’m looking for a new employee.”
“You don’t . . . know me.”
“If you don’t want it—”
“I do! I want it!”
“All right. Well, I’m going home in about an hour, leaving things to my assistant manager, you can come with me and see the place. I’ve got a little girl at home, by the way, her name’s Tomoyo, but I’ll make sure she doesn’t bother you. She’s been good about that with other renters.”
“I don’t even know what to say.”
“Don’t need to say anything.” Kurogane slid a frosty tall mug over the bar, not spilling a drop of the foaming golden contents. “Here. On the house.”
Fai drank the best beer he’d ever tasted and tried not to cry.
Kurogane was so matter-of-fact about it. Like he didn’t know how much he was doing for Fai. Like it was something he did every day, rescuing stranded strangers who were lost and broke and desperate. Fai had tried to remain calm, when inside he was trying not to melt at the brusque, handsome man’s kindness. Kurogane had shown him the cozy space, dug up some clean sheets and towels, and left him alone.
He suddenly remembered that Tomoyo had asked him a question, and found to his surprise that she was just sitting there patiently drinking his tea while he was trying to get a grip on himself. She was really something else.
“I love drawing,” he said at last. “And painting. All kinds of art, really. Do you like to draw?”
Tomoyo nodded. “Papa was finding stuff he wants to give to you and making a box. He said you don’ have a lot of things right now so we’re going to share some of our things. I wanted to put in some colored pencils and drawing paper, but I didn’t know if you would like it.”
“Wait. What.”
There was a knock on the door that led to the rest of the house, which was hanging askew. Kurogane stood there, taking up the entire doorframe and carrying a cardboard box.
“Tomoyo,” he said with a frown. “What did I say about bothering him?”
Tomoyo bit her lip and got up from the table. “I’m sorry, Papa.”
“Please go to your room and wait for me. I’ll come talk to you in a few minutes.”
“Okay,” she whispered, and scurried out.
“She wasn’t,” Fai said anxiously. “Oh, please, I don’t want her to be in trouble, I invited her in here. Don’t be upset with her.”
Kurogane looked surprised. “I’m not. I just wanted to chat with her about being respectful of your privacy.”
“Oh,” he said, feeling rather foolish. And feeling rather like he was being studied by the man, whose red eyes were thoughtful on him. He should probably make less assumptions about other people’s families being as crazy as his had been.
The box suddenly landed on the table beside Tomoyo’s abandoned mug. Unable to help his curiosity, Fai peeked inside. Some basic foodstuffs: a box of cereal and a jar of pasta sauce, half a gallon of milk and a carton of eggs. The refrigerator in here was tiny and wouldn’t fit much, after all. There was a bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap, a comb and a packaged toothbrush.
“I tried to think of everything, but I probably forgot something. Let me know,” Kurogane said roughly, and turned around as if he was going to leave.
But Fai was scrambling up and away from the table, pointing out the box in accusation. “What? No. No, you can’t just— that’s not—”
“You need this stuff, right?”
“Yes, but you can’t just give it to me.”
“Why the hell not?” Kurogane asked, looking genuinely mystified.
“Because it doesn’t make any sense,” Fai insisted, and blinked back tears. “Nobody’s that nice. Not to s-strangers.”
“Not to you?” Kurogane suddenly asked, in a quiet way.
“Y-yeah.”
He shrugged. “Guess they are now. I didn’t have a toothbrush for you or extra shampoo, so I borrowed that from my neighbour. She’s going to bring you dinner a lot for a week or two, just so you know. She does that.”
“Why?” Fai insisted, swiping at one eye with the heel of his hand.
Kurogane shrugged. “I don’t know. She brought me food all the time when Tomoyo came to live with me.”
“No, I don’t mean— I mean . . .”
“I know what you meant,” Kurogane said, and scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck, looking away. “This is a good town. We’re close-knit around here. And if you mean, why you, then I don’t know. You need something and I’ve got it to spare. Don’t see why not, that’s all.”
Fai grabbed the tea mugs off the table and took them over to the little sink. “I’ll make this up to you, when I can.”
“I’ve got what I need. You can pay it forward,” Kurogane muttered. “Um. I’ll get out of your hair. I gotta tuck Tomoyo in anyway. See you in the morning.”
“Okay.”
Fai gasped out a breath as soon as the door closed and tried to calm his racing heart.
“Down, boy,” he muttered. “Down, hormones.” He shook his head. “It is not fair for anyone to be that attractive.”
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Fai had a toilet and a sink in his small apartment space, but he had to go into the main house for a shower. Kurogane had given him a house key and told him to feel free to use it anytime he liked. After a nine-hour shift at Kurogane’s bar (that was supposed to be five but turned out much longer when a waitress called out sick and Fai jumped at the chance for more money), Fai wanted nothing more than to use every drop of water in the heating tank, and he dragged himself inside with every intention of being selfish and doing just that.
He didn’t count on Tomoyo pelting down the hall at him from the main house kitchen. “Mister Fai!” she squealed. “I missed you!”
After making sure he wasn’t undermining Kurogane’s parenting, Fai had started inviting Tomoyo in to have tea and draw with him, since she’d been true to her word and shared her colored pencils. He got the sense she was really a bit lonely and liked having someone to chatter with who was more verbose than her papa. Far from feeling bothered, he welcomed the adorable chatterbox that filled in the long silences of his temporary home.
He’d learned very quickly that Kurogane really didn’t talk much, even at work. With one full week as an employee under his belt, Fai was starting to feel like he was getting a handle on not only the work but the boss. Kurogane was a bit gruff and kept to himself, but his kindness wasn’t limited to strangers. He kept a close eye on his staff, allowing the dish-washer to do his homework when it was slow, or sending a bartender home sick but giving her the full night’s pay anyway, and had stopped on the way home one night to help one of his customers with a flat tire.
Fai had spent the money he’d made on tips so far in purchasing some spare clothes and a pack of underwear, and had resolved to make the few items of food that had been gifted to him last until he got a paycheck. Somehow, despite the fact that the cook at work was flawless, there was a wrong order almost every time Fai had worked this week that was pressed on him with a wink and a “shhh” from the cook. Kurogane was responsible, he was certain.
How he could possibly be single was a mystery. Fai had taken to watching him from across the room when he sat at a booth to do paperwork and balance accounts, admiring his hands and daydreaming about getting his hands in that perpetually messy hair. He could not possibly be the only one who did that.
“Come on, we were waiting for you!” Tomoyo said, taking Fai’s hand and tugging him down the hallway.
“You were?”
Kurogane was standing at the stove, cooking something in a big pan, and he turned around when Tomoyo brought Fai, too weary to fight it, into the room.
“Hey,” he said shortly. “Sorry. I keep telling her give you space.”
Tomoyo pouted at him, making Kurogane smile, just a little. It was the first time Fai had seen him do that, and he tried not to just melt all over the kitchen floor.
“Sorry you ended up with such a long day,” Kurogane said, turning back to the stove, pinching some type of spice out of a bowl and adding it to the pan. “Thanks for covering the shift. You want a beer?”
Fai eyed Tomoyo, but she seemed altogether unconcerned about the idea. “Sure.”
Kurogane side-stepped to the fridge and got a cold bottle out for him. “Thought you’d probably be hungry. Dinner’s almost ready, if you want to eat with us tonight.”
“Oh, that’s okay, I—” Tomoyo’s crestfallen face made him stop. “Okay. Thanks.”
She squealed happily. “Can we draw after dinner?”
Fai smiled at her and tried to find the energy to say yes. But Kurogane was turning around and thwapping her lightly with a dishtowel.
“Tomoyo, stop pestering him. He’s been working all day and he’s tired. Let him rest.”
Tomoyo cast a worried look at him. “Are you tired, Mister Fai? I can make you tea!”
“I’m fine, Tomoyo, but thank you. Tell you what: why don’t I watch you draw? How’s that sound?”
“Sure!” she said happily, and dashed away to retrieve her pencils.
“I had something to tell you,” Kurogane said as soon as she was out of the room.
“Okay,” Fai said, his heart skipping a beat. Was he being fired? Kicked out?
“The police found your car.”
That was not what he was expecting. “O-oh?”
“I’ve got a friend on the force, I told him to keep an eye out for me. It was abandoned in Denver. The window’s busted, but other than that it seems fine. Still running. Still had your duffel bag in it. They took your money and your cards out of your wallet, but apparently your clothes and your painting stuff is still there.”
Fai gripped the beer bottle tightly and found himself scrambling for a proper response to this. He’d been down on his luck all his life, and something was happening to him in this picturesque little town to change all that. Finding his car was almost too much to hope for all by itself. His belongings still inside was something else. This wasn’t even making mention of walking into the bar of a man who was willing to just take care of his every need in the meantime. He’d never had this many good things happen to him. He didn’t know what to do with it.
“So if you want, I can take the day off tomorrow, drive you up there to get your car back. You can get back on the road to wherever you were headed.”
Fai’s heart squeezed tight, for some reason. Wasn’t this fantastic news? Why did he feel like crying?
A tearful gasp came from the doorway. Both men froze and found Tomoyo standing there with her pencils and paper clutched to her chest with one hand, the other hand tugging on her long braid. She looked completely stricken.
“Mister Fai, are you leaving forever?” she whispered, her bottom lip trembling.
“I . . .”
“I don’t want you to!” she sobbed, and flung herself at him. Surprised, he caught hold of her and dragged her up into his lap to cuddle her while she cried.
“I’m sorry . . .” Kurogane muttered, doing that embarrassed gesture with his hand rubbing the back of his neck. He reached out like he meant to take Tomoyo, but Fai found himself cuddling her close.
“It’s fine,” he said in a hollow voice. He petted Tomoyo’s hair for a moment, then put his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to look at him. “Princess . . . I’ll miss you too. We had fun this week, didn’t we?”
She nodded, hiccuping.
“You know, I’m going to have to stay for a week or two, while your papa looks for a new employee. I wouldn’t leave him shorthanded. Does that make you feel better?”
He didn’t dare look at Kurogane, focusing instead on the brightening expression on Tomoyo’s face.
“Yes,” she said, lip still trembling.
He cuddled her against him again, and risked a look at Kurogane. He was smiling. A real, full-blown smile. Fai took a breath and willed his heart to keep beating.
“If that’s okay,” he said quietly.
Kurogane abruptly turned back to the stove. “It’s fine,” he said roughly, and his face was turning red, suffusing with heat across those perfect cheekbones. Fai gaped at him. Why was he so embarrassed to be caught smiling?
“Mister Fai?” Tomoyo asked, wriggling in his arms.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Is the place you’re going very important?”
“Ah . . . Well . . . I was going there to look for work and find some new friends . . .” he hedged. He didn’t know how to explain to a little girl that life could become unhappy enough that you wanted to drop everything and run away, or plant the thought in her head that it was a good idea to head for a new city with no clear plans for the future.
Tomoyo looked up at him with shining eyes. “But my Papa gave you work and I’m your friend,” she said. “How come you can’t stay here?”
“Oh. Well. Um. I . . . I can’t . . . your Papa was just letting me stay here for a little while, to help me while we tried to find my car,” Fai said, stumbling. “He didn’t want me to stay forever.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” Kurogane muttered from the stove.
Fai froze.
“I mean, you’ve been a big help at work and I gotta rent the garage to somebody, anyway, so it’s fine if it’s you,” Kurogane said in a rush. “But I know you’ve got other plans, so don’t worry about it.”
Tomoyo’s eyes were pinging back and forth between the two of them, a thoughtful frown on her sweet little face, and then suddenly the frown broke and cleared and she looked as delighted as Christmas morning.
“Fai can be my other daddy!” she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck.
“What?” he gasped.
“Tomoyo!” Kurogane snapped, his face bright red.
“Papa, you said someday I’d have another daddy if there was a nice man who wanted to have a family with us. Fai’s really, really nice. Fai, you might not be sad as much anymore if we were a family with you!”
Kurogane appeared to have become so mortified he’d lost the ability to speak entirely. He was just standing there with his jaw slack and a dishtowel hanging limp in one hand. But Fai, for his part, found that he was grinning like an idiot past the pounding of his heart.
“You know what, Tomoyo? I can’t tell you for sure about that right now, because I need to get to know your Papa a lot better first. But we’ll see. I think I’d like it very much if I could stay here for a while.”
Tomoyo gave an excited chirp and bounced in his arms. “I wanna draw a picture of us, okay?” she said. Fai had already taped about a dozen drawings of himself and Tomoyo onto the cupboards in the garage apartment, but he had the sneaking suspicion she meant to include Kurogane in this one.
She scrambled down from his lap to retrieve her abandoned pencils, already chattering away about something else entirely. Fai was having a hard time paying attention, since he and Kurogane were looking at each other with no idea what to say.
“Uh,” Kurogane tried to formulate a thought.
“Kurogane,” Fai said, unable to help his smirk, “if this was all some elaborate ploy to get into my pants—”
Kurogane choked.
“—I might just have to let you.”
Kurogane became completely useless when he was embarrassed, it seemed. Fai had every intention of using that knowledge as a weapon in the future. Because no matter how he tried to tell himself that this wasn’t really happening and wasn’t going to last, the idea was taking hold of him that his future might be right here in Paradise, Colorado. He’d have to get them to change the sign.
Story: Here to Stay (original book title No Average Joe)
Rating: G
Warnings: This might be the worst thing I've ever written in the fandom?
Summary: Fai's car and possessions are stolen in the middle of a road trip, and local bar & grille owner Kurogane helps him out. Kurogane's young daughter Tomoyo is so cute that Fai does not mind her constant invasions of his privacy.
Notes: So Faren had no intention of participating in the Harlequin challenge. None. She was sitting this contest out. Then two days before the fics were due,
mikkeneko challenged her. Said she bet Faren couldn’t write a fic for one of the prompts with only 1,000 words (the minimum requirement set forth in the challenge). Faren never backs down from a challenge, but wheedled Mikke into a 5K word limit. So Harlequin fic, written in less than two days, with less than 5,000 words.Did it. Did it like a boss in ONE day. 4600 words, aw yeah. Granted, this is a piece of plotless fluff. Tomoyo has no mother or clear place of origin, Fai has Generic Bitter Backstory Syndrome, Kurogane runs a bar because LOL that’s totally a thing Kurogane would do for a career. What is character development and how do I. I have dubbed my lack of concern for detail the Harlequin Handwave. Enjoy?
HERE TO STAY
(now showing on the Lifetime Channel)
She’d been peeking through a crack in the door for at least ten minutes, or at least that was when he’d noticed her. She thought he didn’t see her.
He didn’t want to startle her, so he briskly snapped out the folded-up sheets and began tucking the corners under the bare mattress while he spoke.
“Hello, Tomoyo,” he said, sing-song. “You can come in, if you’d like.”
The door cracked open a little wider. “You know my name?” she asked breathlessly.
“Your dad told me.”
The door opened even more fully, although she hid half-behind it, only showing him one of her deep brown eyes. She was shy, it seemed.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Fai,” he answered, still working on making the bed. The down comforter had been put away in a chest for some time, it seemed, and smelled strongly of cedar wood. He held it to his nose and sighed with pleasure. All of his own things had retained a lingering smell of cigarette smoke, no matter how many times he washed them after getting out of his aunt’s house. This was nice. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to come in?”
She sidled slowly into the garage, but left the door to the house open. “Do you live here now?”
He smiled at that, taking care to make it look like a real smile and not a bitter declaration of how inevitably life always seemed to screw him over. “Seems that way.”
“Did Papa show you how to use the stove?”
The tour had been practical and no-nonsense, and Fai was incredibly grateful that Kurogane had simply shown him the basics and left him alone. He seemed to sense how close Fai was to the edge of his control right now, and the warm spot in his chest at the man’s quiet understanding was the only thing about him that was warm right now.
“He did, thank you. I was about to make myself some tea. Would you like to have a cup of tea with me?”
Fai may not have children of his own, but he knew how it had felt as a child when his own home had been upset. Maybe he was at the end of his rope right now, but this little girl had a stranger in her house and needed to feel safe. He couldn’t muster up the energy to deal with his unfairly-attractive new boss and landlord, but he felt like he’d better dig deep and find something for Tomoyo.
“Papa said not to bother you,” she said doubtfully, fingering nervously at the long braid of dark hair that spilled over her shoulder.
“It’s not a bother at all,” he said with a warm smile, and held out his hand to her. “Will you show me where the cups are?”
She thought about it for a moment, then nodded and skipped through the gap in the partition wall that separated the bedroom area from the living and dining area. The apartment Kurogane had built in his garage wasn’t fancy, but it was snug and clean and furnished, and Fai was far from the luxury of being choosy right now.
“The cups are up there,” she said, pointing to the unfinished wooden cupboard above the little sink and stove in the tiny kitchenette. “But there isn’t a microwave to make hot water,” she objected.
There were only a few dishes stocked in the little kitchen, but there was a saucepan. Fai filled it up in the sink and flicked on the stove.
“Oh,” Tomoyo said in surprise. “I didn’t think about that.”
Fai winked at her. “I’m pretty clever sometimes.”
She giggled, and helped him by carefully placing tea bags into the two coffee mugs he’d dug out. They’d once been part of a set, it seemed, since they were both plain and serviceable and white, but one was chipped and there were only three in the cupboard. Fai suspected Kurogane had brought them home from his restaurant. He’d find out tomorrow when he started working, he supposed.
There were only a few basic things in here, leftovers from the previous occupant that wouldn’t spoil and which Kurogane had left alone instead of removing. A box of green tea bags, an unopened box of spaghetti noodles, a jar of peanut butter. Fai had never waited tables before, so he didn’t know what to expect his pay to look like and hoped he’d have enough for some groceries soon. Kurogane was practically giving him this place for free, rent-wise. The payment was so low that Fai suspected Kurogane had made up the figure on the spot and hadn’t even intended to charge Fai at all until he insisted on knowing what the rent would be before agreeing to move in.
“Papa didn’t tell me you were pretty,” Tomoyo said suddenly.
Fai was in the process of pouring out the hot water into the cups, and he was lucky he didn’t dump it all over himself. He laughed as he set the pan in the sink and carried both cups over to the tiny little bistro table.
“Well, he didn’t tell me you were, either,” he said, leaning over and crossing his eyes to make her laugh. “I guess he thought it was obvious, right?”
Tomoyo did laugh, and sat down at the table and dragged her cup over to herself eagerly. “I never had this kind before.”
“It’s hot, be careful,” he warned.
She took his admonishment seriously, blowing on the tea and making little ripples. She sipped it. “It’s okay,” she said cautiously.
Fai laughed again. “It’s okay if you don’t like it. You don’t have to.”
He drank deeply of his. He’d been sick with worry and loss all day, and the tea was incredibly soothing both in its warmth and familiarity. He cradled the cup in his hands, turning the chipped part of the rim carefully away from himself. He’d made sure not to give the broken one to Tomoyo. Tomoyo was watching him drink, swinging her slipper-clad feet under the table.
“I like it,” she pronounced, and took another drink. “Mister Fai?”
“Yes, princess?”
She giggled and watched her feet kicking back and forth. “Did Papa tell you to call me that?”
“No . . .”
“Papa always calls me his princess.”
“Well, then you must be royalty for sure,” Fai smiled. “What were you going to say, sweetheart?”
“Are you sad?”
He froze with the mug nearly touching his lips. “Why would you say that?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her pretty face screwed up in concern. “You seem like you’re sad. Are you okay? Do you need Papa? Papa’s really good at making you feel better when you’re sad.”
Fai blew out a deep breath. “That’s very kind of you,” he said sincerely. “I guess I am a little bit sad, but your Papa already helped me with that. He gave me a job at his restaurant and he’s letting me live here, so that’s a big help.”
“Did something bad happen to you?”
“I’m afraid so,” he said, his smile still forced. She seemed like such a mature child, really, but she couldn’t be more than six or seven, she didn’t need to be hearing all this. “But you know what? I feel much better now that I have a friend to drink tea with. I’m glad I have you to cheer me up!”
Tomoyo perked up at that. “Do you like drawing?” she asked as she took a big gulp of her tea. It was clear she still didn’t really like the stuff, but she wanted to impress him. She was completely adorable. Fai was nonplussed. How was the gruff owner and operator of the town’s bar responsible for this sweet little girl?
He’d lost his art supplies, too. Reminded of that, he actually felt a little short of breath. Painting was . . . It was how he spoke. It would be a long, long while before he’d amass enough money to replace his stolen painting materials. He couldn’t do that until he’d somehow scraped together the money for another car so he could leave here.
How had this even happened to him? Fai had never had the best of luck, but this was on a whole new level of bad luck. His home life as a child had been unstable at best, his life as a young adult characterized by an inability to find a place he fit in. Painting was a refuge and a language, and his fingers were already itching to capture the breath-stealing landscape of this little Colorado town, nestled as it was between high, snow-capped mountains.
He’d fallen asleep on a bench at a rest stop and woken up to find his car and everything he owned missing. Someone had jacked his car while he’d been taking a quick nap, and with it they’d taken his art supplies, all the money he’d saved up, and the tiny hope for a happy future he’d been clinging to as he made the lonely drive toward a new life in Portland. He’d hitchhiked to the nearest town, which happened to be named Paradise and which gave him the passing urge to vandalize the sign because this was far from Paradise. It cheerfully proclaimed its population of 1,632 people. There had been more people than that in Fai’s high school and he wasn’t sure why they were proud enough of the number to put it on a sign. Well, it was 1,633 now. For a while, anyway.
He’d had two tens in his pocket and had given one of them to the driver who’d picked him up to say thanks. He’d spent his last crumpled bill on food, because he was famished. Apparently it wasn’t every day a drifter sat morosely at your bar picking at a chicken sandwich and wondering if it was his last meal, because Kurogane had somehow noticed him and come over and prodded him into telling the whole story. Fai hadn’t meant to, it had just sort of happened somehow. At the end of the telling, he’d put his head down on the bar counter and fallen into embarrassed silence.
“I’m looking for some help around here,” the man had said, not even looking at him, just polishing a few freshly-washed glasses. “Just waiting on tables and stuff. It’s not the most glamorous job, but it’s something, right? And I converted my garage into an apartment a few years back that’s vacant right now. You can stay there until you find something better.”
Fai had been speechless for a moment, before choking out, “Why?”
“Told you, I’m looking for a new employee.”
“You don’t . . . know me.”
“If you don’t want it—”
“I do! I want it!”
“All right. Well, I’m going home in about an hour, leaving things to my assistant manager, you can come with me and see the place. I’ve got a little girl at home, by the way, her name’s Tomoyo, but I’ll make sure she doesn’t bother you. She’s been good about that with other renters.”
“I don’t even know what to say.”
“Don’t need to say anything.” Kurogane slid a frosty tall mug over the bar, not spilling a drop of the foaming golden contents. “Here. On the house.”
Fai drank the best beer he’d ever tasted and tried not to cry.
Kurogane was so matter-of-fact about it. Like he didn’t know how much he was doing for Fai. Like it was something he did every day, rescuing stranded strangers who were lost and broke and desperate. Fai had tried to remain calm, when inside he was trying not to melt at the brusque, handsome man’s kindness. Kurogane had shown him the cozy space, dug up some clean sheets and towels, and left him alone.
He suddenly remembered that Tomoyo had asked him a question, and found to his surprise that she was just sitting there patiently drinking his tea while he was trying to get a grip on himself. She was really something else.
“I love drawing,” he said at last. “And painting. All kinds of art, really. Do you like to draw?”
Tomoyo nodded. “Papa was finding stuff he wants to give to you and making a box. He said you don’ have a lot of things right now so we’re going to share some of our things. I wanted to put in some colored pencils and drawing paper, but I didn’t know if you would like it.”
“Wait. What.”
There was a knock on the door that led to the rest of the house, which was hanging askew. Kurogane stood there, taking up the entire doorframe and carrying a cardboard box.
“Tomoyo,” he said with a frown. “What did I say about bothering him?”
Tomoyo bit her lip and got up from the table. “I’m sorry, Papa.”
“Please go to your room and wait for me. I’ll come talk to you in a few minutes.”
“Okay,” she whispered, and scurried out.
“She wasn’t,” Fai said anxiously. “Oh, please, I don’t want her to be in trouble, I invited her in here. Don’t be upset with her.”
Kurogane looked surprised. “I’m not. I just wanted to chat with her about being respectful of your privacy.”
“Oh,” he said, feeling rather foolish. And feeling rather like he was being studied by the man, whose red eyes were thoughtful on him. He should probably make less assumptions about other people’s families being as crazy as his had been.
The box suddenly landed on the table beside Tomoyo’s abandoned mug. Unable to help his curiosity, Fai peeked inside. Some basic foodstuffs: a box of cereal and a jar of pasta sauce, half a gallon of milk and a carton of eggs. The refrigerator in here was tiny and wouldn’t fit much, after all. There was a bottle of shampoo and a bar of soap, a comb and a packaged toothbrush.
“I tried to think of everything, but I probably forgot something. Let me know,” Kurogane said roughly, and turned around as if he was going to leave.
But Fai was scrambling up and away from the table, pointing out the box in accusation. “What? No. No, you can’t just— that’s not—”
“You need this stuff, right?”
“Yes, but you can’t just give it to me.”
“Why the hell not?” Kurogane asked, looking genuinely mystified.
“Because it doesn’t make any sense,” Fai insisted, and blinked back tears. “Nobody’s that nice. Not to s-strangers.”
“Not to you?” Kurogane suddenly asked, in a quiet way.
“Y-yeah.”
He shrugged. “Guess they are now. I didn’t have a toothbrush for you or extra shampoo, so I borrowed that from my neighbour. She’s going to bring you dinner a lot for a week or two, just so you know. She does that.”
“Why?” Fai insisted, swiping at one eye with the heel of his hand.
Kurogane shrugged. “I don’t know. She brought me food all the time when Tomoyo came to live with me.”
“No, I don’t mean— I mean . . .”
“I know what you meant,” Kurogane said, and scrubbed his hand over the back of his neck, looking away. “This is a good town. We’re close-knit around here. And if you mean, why you, then I don’t know. You need something and I’ve got it to spare. Don’t see why not, that’s all.”
Fai grabbed the tea mugs off the table and took them over to the little sink. “I’ll make this up to you, when I can.”
“I’ve got what I need. You can pay it forward,” Kurogane muttered. “Um. I’ll get out of your hair. I gotta tuck Tomoyo in anyway. See you in the morning.”
“Okay.”
Fai gasped out a breath as soon as the door closed and tried to calm his racing heart.
“Down, boy,” he muttered. “Down, hormones.” He shook his head. “It is not fair for anyone to be that attractive.”
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-
Fai had a toilet and a sink in his small apartment space, but he had to go into the main house for a shower. Kurogane had given him a house key and told him to feel free to use it anytime he liked. After a nine-hour shift at Kurogane’s bar (that was supposed to be five but turned out much longer when a waitress called out sick and Fai jumped at the chance for more money), Fai wanted nothing more than to use every drop of water in the heating tank, and he dragged himself inside with every intention of being selfish and doing just that.
He didn’t count on Tomoyo pelting down the hall at him from the main house kitchen. “Mister Fai!” she squealed. “I missed you!”
After making sure he wasn’t undermining Kurogane’s parenting, Fai had started inviting Tomoyo in to have tea and draw with him, since she’d been true to her word and shared her colored pencils. He got the sense she was really a bit lonely and liked having someone to chatter with who was more verbose than her papa. Far from feeling bothered, he welcomed the adorable chatterbox that filled in the long silences of his temporary home.
He’d learned very quickly that Kurogane really didn’t talk much, even at work. With one full week as an employee under his belt, Fai was starting to feel like he was getting a handle on not only the work but the boss. Kurogane was a bit gruff and kept to himself, but his kindness wasn’t limited to strangers. He kept a close eye on his staff, allowing the dish-washer to do his homework when it was slow, or sending a bartender home sick but giving her the full night’s pay anyway, and had stopped on the way home one night to help one of his customers with a flat tire.
Fai had spent the money he’d made on tips so far in purchasing some spare clothes and a pack of underwear, and had resolved to make the few items of food that had been gifted to him last until he got a paycheck. Somehow, despite the fact that the cook at work was flawless, there was a wrong order almost every time Fai had worked this week that was pressed on him with a wink and a “shhh” from the cook. Kurogane was responsible, he was certain.
How he could possibly be single was a mystery. Fai had taken to watching him from across the room when he sat at a booth to do paperwork and balance accounts, admiring his hands and daydreaming about getting his hands in that perpetually messy hair. He could not possibly be the only one who did that.
“Come on, we were waiting for you!” Tomoyo said, taking Fai’s hand and tugging him down the hallway.
“You were?”
Kurogane was standing at the stove, cooking something in a big pan, and he turned around when Tomoyo brought Fai, too weary to fight it, into the room.
“Hey,” he said shortly. “Sorry. I keep telling her give you space.”
Tomoyo pouted at him, making Kurogane smile, just a little. It was the first time Fai had seen him do that, and he tried not to just melt all over the kitchen floor.
“Sorry you ended up with such a long day,” Kurogane said, turning back to the stove, pinching some type of spice out of a bowl and adding it to the pan. “Thanks for covering the shift. You want a beer?”
Fai eyed Tomoyo, but she seemed altogether unconcerned about the idea. “Sure.”
Kurogane side-stepped to the fridge and got a cold bottle out for him. “Thought you’d probably be hungry. Dinner’s almost ready, if you want to eat with us tonight.”
“Oh, that’s okay, I—” Tomoyo’s crestfallen face made him stop. “Okay. Thanks.”
She squealed happily. “Can we draw after dinner?”
Fai smiled at her and tried to find the energy to say yes. But Kurogane was turning around and thwapping her lightly with a dishtowel.
“Tomoyo, stop pestering him. He’s been working all day and he’s tired. Let him rest.”
Tomoyo cast a worried look at him. “Are you tired, Mister Fai? I can make you tea!”
“I’m fine, Tomoyo, but thank you. Tell you what: why don’t I watch you draw? How’s that sound?”
“Sure!” she said happily, and dashed away to retrieve her pencils.
“I had something to tell you,” Kurogane said as soon as she was out of the room.
“Okay,” Fai said, his heart skipping a beat. Was he being fired? Kicked out?
“The police found your car.”
That was not what he was expecting. “O-oh?”
“I’ve got a friend on the force, I told him to keep an eye out for me. It was abandoned in Denver. The window’s busted, but other than that it seems fine. Still running. Still had your duffel bag in it. They took your money and your cards out of your wallet, but apparently your clothes and your painting stuff is still there.”
Fai gripped the beer bottle tightly and found himself scrambling for a proper response to this. He’d been down on his luck all his life, and something was happening to him in this picturesque little town to change all that. Finding his car was almost too much to hope for all by itself. His belongings still inside was something else. This wasn’t even making mention of walking into the bar of a man who was willing to just take care of his every need in the meantime. He’d never had this many good things happen to him. He didn’t know what to do with it.
“So if you want, I can take the day off tomorrow, drive you up there to get your car back. You can get back on the road to wherever you were headed.”
Fai’s heart squeezed tight, for some reason. Wasn’t this fantastic news? Why did he feel like crying?
A tearful gasp came from the doorway. Both men froze and found Tomoyo standing there with her pencils and paper clutched to her chest with one hand, the other hand tugging on her long braid. She looked completely stricken.
“Mister Fai, are you leaving forever?” she whispered, her bottom lip trembling.
“I . . .”
“I don’t want you to!” she sobbed, and flung herself at him. Surprised, he caught hold of her and dragged her up into his lap to cuddle her while she cried.
“I’m sorry . . .” Kurogane muttered, doing that embarrassed gesture with his hand rubbing the back of his neck. He reached out like he meant to take Tomoyo, but Fai found himself cuddling her close.
“It’s fine,” he said in a hollow voice. He petted Tomoyo’s hair for a moment, then put his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to look at him. “Princess . . . I’ll miss you too. We had fun this week, didn’t we?”
She nodded, hiccuping.
“You know, I’m going to have to stay for a week or two, while your papa looks for a new employee. I wouldn’t leave him shorthanded. Does that make you feel better?”
He didn’t dare look at Kurogane, focusing instead on the brightening expression on Tomoyo’s face.
“Yes,” she said, lip still trembling.
He cuddled her against him again, and risked a look at Kurogane. He was smiling. A real, full-blown smile. Fai took a breath and willed his heart to keep beating.
“If that’s okay,” he said quietly.
Kurogane abruptly turned back to the stove. “It’s fine,” he said roughly, and his face was turning red, suffusing with heat across those perfect cheekbones. Fai gaped at him. Why was he so embarrassed to be caught smiling?
“Mister Fai?” Tomoyo asked, wriggling in his arms.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“Is the place you’re going very important?”
“Ah . . . Well . . . I was going there to look for work and find some new friends . . .” he hedged. He didn’t know how to explain to a little girl that life could become unhappy enough that you wanted to drop everything and run away, or plant the thought in her head that it was a good idea to head for a new city with no clear plans for the future.
Tomoyo looked up at him with shining eyes. “But my Papa gave you work and I’m your friend,” she said. “How come you can’t stay here?”
“Oh. Well. Um. I . . . I can’t . . . your Papa was just letting me stay here for a little while, to help me while we tried to find my car,” Fai said, stumbling. “He didn’t want me to stay forever.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” Kurogane muttered from the stove.
Fai froze.
“I mean, you’ve been a big help at work and I gotta rent the garage to somebody, anyway, so it’s fine if it’s you,” Kurogane said in a rush. “But I know you’ve got other plans, so don’t worry about it.”
Tomoyo’s eyes were pinging back and forth between the two of them, a thoughtful frown on her sweet little face, and then suddenly the frown broke and cleared and she looked as delighted as Christmas morning.
“Fai can be my other daddy!” she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck.
“What?” he gasped.
“Tomoyo!” Kurogane snapped, his face bright red.
“Papa, you said someday I’d have another daddy if there was a nice man who wanted to have a family with us. Fai’s really, really nice. Fai, you might not be sad as much anymore if we were a family with you!”
Kurogane appeared to have become so mortified he’d lost the ability to speak entirely. He was just standing there with his jaw slack and a dishtowel hanging limp in one hand. But Fai, for his part, found that he was grinning like an idiot past the pounding of his heart.
“You know what, Tomoyo? I can’t tell you for sure about that right now, because I need to get to know your Papa a lot better first. But we’ll see. I think I’d like it very much if I could stay here for a while.”
Tomoyo gave an excited chirp and bounced in his arms. “I wanna draw a picture of us, okay?” she said. Fai had already taped about a dozen drawings of himself and Tomoyo onto the cupboards in the garage apartment, but he had the sneaking suspicion she meant to include Kurogane in this one.
She scrambled down from his lap to retrieve her abandoned pencils, already chattering away about something else entirely. Fai was having a hard time paying attention, since he and Kurogane were looking at each other with no idea what to say.
“Uh,” Kurogane tried to formulate a thought.
“Kurogane,” Fai said, unable to help his smirk, “if this was all some elaborate ploy to get into my pants—”
Kurogane choked.
“—I might just have to let you.”
Kurogane became completely useless when he was embarrassed, it seemed. Fai had every intention of using that knowledge as a weapon in the future. Because no matter how he tried to tell himself that this wasn’t really happening and wasn’t going to last, the idea was taking hold of him that his future might be right here in Paradise, Colorado. He’d have to get them to change the sign.
no subject
AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
DO YOU KNOW WHO IS AS DELIGHTED AS CHRISTMAS MORNING
IT IS ME
I AM THAT DELIGHTED AND SO WILL BE EVERY ONE ELSE WHO READS THIS :DDDDDDDD
Ahahaha, best thing to wake up to, ever.
no subject
no subject
Ahahaha, I am happy you like my enthusiasm and love! Seriously, I was so happy last night,I went to bed with a stupid grin on my face :D
I'm still grinning now, in fact; I'm about to go shopping, and I just know I'm going to be walking around all derp-like going "hurr durr happpeeee" in public, and it's all you fault XD
no subject
no subject
no subject
You need to write more complete schmoop. Seriously.. Tomoyo's irresistibly adorable and of course she be the one to set them getting together. And Kurogane being really not too gruff, and oh my goodness I nearly melt into a pile of mushy goo.
Weird as it seems, despite the length and the Harlequin fill, I totally buy their good chemistry. Maybe it's just a KuroFai thing. :P
no subject
Oh and it's still so warm and sweet and schmoopy and Tomoyo being the most cutest kid and Fai so dumbstruck and so grateful for all his fortunes and Kurogane being a dork and sap and smiling and blushing.
Please, never stop toying with our emotions. ♥ ♥ ♥
no subject
The ending made me all warm and fuzzy on the inside thanks to the image of a mortified Kurogane.
So glad you entered the challenge.
And your characterization was great and I think a lot of us are doing the Harlequin Handwave
no subject
This was adorable. I think it was Tomoyo that did it. And Kurogane's (and his anonymous neighbour's (I need to figure out who that might be...)) immense kindness! I completely understand where Fai's confusion is coming from about them showering him with the stuff. I'm much of the same disposition myself, so I identified.
This was the best start I could've gotten to today's Harle-marathon! I'm glad you entered, and don't worry about the Harlequin Handwave. This is meant to be a fun challenge~ Out the window with pretentiousness, I say. |D
no subject
Thank you!
no subject
This was just so, so very adorable. Tiny Tomoyo is too cute and is obviously the boss of the house and Kurogane being so nice, like his is anyways, is refreshing to see a lot of.
MIKKE SHOULD CHALLENGE YOU WEEKLY AT LEAST
I love how naturally Fai interacts with Tomoyo, and is such a good parent figure. He's thoughtful about what he does and says in front of her. The innate wisdom and paternal care there is heartwarming. <3 I love his curiosity about the little things, too, like where Kurogane got the cups for the garage-apartment. I freaking adore him for making sure not to give Tomoyo the chipped cup.
"Do you need Papa?" *dies, melts, laughs, squees and tosses Tomoyo in the air with glee* YES. YES HE DOES. GOD, WHO WOULDN'T?!
How was the gruff owner and operator of the town’s bar responsible for this sweet little girl? LMAOOOOOOOO~ <3
Ughhh, it's probably wrong but of all the bad things that may have happened or definitely did happen to Fai I felt for the loss of his art supplies the most. *goes to cuddle and pet her watercolors*
...which gave him the passing urge to vandalize the sign... That is just the best, most adorable, so-very-human reaction. These little things make the characters so much more believable and real. <3 And good Lord, Kurogane, how are you so awesome?! Kind of casually tossing a perfect life-saving solution out there like it's nothing and you don't really give a crap either way and whatever, tch. <3 <3 <3 And making a box. And being insightful. And kind. Free meals and family inclusion! Oh Kurogane. You are just...the best everything that you care enough to be. The best Papa, the best friend, just the best.
Fai drank the best beer he’d ever tasted and tried not to cry. Oh. *heart breaks again, and is mended shortly by Tomoyo being SO DAMN CUTE*
I love Fai's reactions to Kuro-smiles. <3 <3 <3 YOU CANNOT RESIST THE NON-DELIBERATE SEXY.
He’d never had this many good things happen to him. FAI. ;A;
“Fai can be my other daddy!” she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. TOMOYO! XD XD XD
*screams for a good hour over how perfect and eeeee and YES the last line is* I LOVE YOU. I know we're already married and had like three honeymoons and a vow renewal but OH MY GOD MARRY ME AGAIN.
no subject
Ssssssqqqquuueeeeee!!!!
It was perfect - like, this is my new favorite romance novel. I am now going to daydream about the two of them in a sleepy Colorado town being happy forever and always and... Tomoyo! Oh God, can I please have Tomoyo as my child?
I have no clue why you think this was poorly written. There really weren't that many plotholes. I actually think that the lack of some details only enhanced the story. For realz. And Kuro... God I love him. He is best man/father/ninja EVAR. I adore how you portrayed him in this story.
This is going on my 'list of things to read when sad.' Just - squee. All the squue. I have no objectivity left. Only flail.
*flails and promptly scares cat*
Re: Ssssssqqqquuueeeeee!!!!
no subject
You did a fantastic job with Tomoyo, I can never do children, haha. xD And Kurogane makes an awesome single dad... but he'll make an even better non-single dad. Poor Fai, even in these brief scenes his loneliness and crappy self-esteem just shone through the lines.
Wonderful! Astounding! Amazing! Superlative! All these words describe Mokona!
no subject