Ho ho ho.

[moonsheen]

Me thinks (because finals are coming up, because I am a masochist, and because it is that time of year) I'll be climbing aboard that holiday drabble meme. You know the drill. Gimme a concept/characters/pairings/whatnot and I'll see what I can do. Series are (in no particular order and prolly missing a few) Naruto, X, Yami no Matsuei, Puchi Puri Yuushi (for the obscure), Shamanic Princess (for the more obscure?), Saint Seiya, and, ah, hell. Toss in Fruits Basket. I'll give that a shot. Will try to get these done in a timely manner this time around, too.

Well. Here goes.

Comments

[quatredeathlady.livejournal.com]

I second the Kyou/Tohru. XDD

I'm trying to think of something I could write for you (Alex). >.> Any ideas?

[moonsheen.livejournal.com]

Aaand Kyou/Tohru fluff. Of sorts. In two parts. Enjoy!




When a young couple finally purchased the old house on the hill, no one thought twice about it. It was a fixer-upper no question about it, superstition had kept it empty for a very long time, and it was only when someone had fixed up the gate and the cobblestones and had started on the new paint job that people began to realize they'd moved in, and were making themselves quite comfortable. No one saw much of them—the wife came shopping regularly, and was always very polite to the people who greeted her. She was young, practically still a girl. The husband was a scarcer sight, though not a non-entity. He came with her on errands, and those that saw him had very little to say, other than to shake their heads disapprovingly. Most were surprised to find out he worked. Because he sure didn’t look it, they muttered.

The neighborhood children took a liking to the pair. Not surprising, they’d often played around the old house, since it was nice and removed and a rarity in that sense. The fact that they were welcome helped. They liked the young woman best of all--she made them snacks, and drinks, and let them sit on her steps, and sometimes offered them dinner if they were out late. That was when people began to wonder. She seemed very nice, but the stories the children told sounded a little odd, and they started to notice things about her.

She had a lot of visitors. People no one had ever seen around those parts before. Strange people, like a woman in a long shawl, who the grocer saw drifting down the street like phantom when he’d been closing up one evening. Like the pair of young men who’d nearly given the old flower lady on the corner a heart attack, when they’d driven up to her curb on a motorcycle to ask for directions to, naturally, that house on the hill. A great majority of these visitors /were/ young men, enough to raise suspicions—except she didn’t act the type, and seemed very devoted to her husband-of-whatever profession-he-might-be. Rumor had it he was a martial artist. Rumor had it the visitors were family—an old, respectable family maybe--the name was distantly familiar to this person and that, though no one could ever place it. The pair were harmless, but a mystery, and one that persisted long after the spring they’d moved in, into summer, fall, and winter, strange and ever unresolved. They kept seemed happy in their own company, and only the children would actively seek them out.

[moonsheen.livejournal.com]

Until Christmas came that year, around the time the woman gave out candy canes, and the husband incited a snowball fight of (the boys reported) epic proportions, and their nearest neighbor—poor An, the librarian, who’d kept herself very private after her divorce—had gotten a call late that evening: Your daughter is here, she got a little lost, would you like to come get her? And An had driven up the hill, not sure what to expect. She’d heard the husband was a gang-member, who’d dyed his hair, and been kicked out of school. She’d heard the wife was a woman who’d been disowned, for whatever reasons, and moved to escape her tarnished reputation. An didn’t know what to make of all of that. She just knocked on the door.

"Sohma-san?" she called uncertainly.

"It’s open!"

And she’d found her daughter on the couch, covered in a blanket, fast asleep. She’d found Sohma-san sitting over her in a chair nearby, pressing a towel to her forehead, and looking as a whole, relieved. Her other hand rested on what An thought was some sort of pillow, until it swiveled its head around and glared balefully. It was large ginger cat, with a narrow, mean looking face, An thought—but then she’d never really been a cat person. Not that it really mattered. Her daughter had a fever, Sohma-san told her, not too serious, but the girl had been exhausted and if An felt better not moving her it was all right for her to stay the night there was doctor friend who could be called and it was really, really all right--but the offer was politely refused.

"I understand. You want her home before the weather gets too bad," Sohma-san said, with an understanding nod. It was beginning to snow, after all.

"What about your husband?" An had asked, with a frown. The man was nowhere to be found.

Sohma-san had stroked the cat’s head and smiled.

"He’ll be home soon," she said fondly. "Please, take care."

It was only after An the Librarian had made it home and gotten her daughter to bed that a funny thought occurred to her: No one had ever said anything about her neighbors having a cat.

[quatredeathlady.livejournal.com]

::Demands the next part!::

Kawaii! MORE, damnit!