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31_days2008-02-15 09:09 pm
swollenfoot.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2008-02-15 09:09 pm
[February 15][Hana Yori Dango] S.C.A.R. - he sends an escort this time
Title: S.C.A.R 2 - He sends an escort this time
Day/Theme: February 15 / money can't buy love but it improves your bargaining position
Series: Hana Yori Dango (manga verse, but it doesn't really matter)
Characters: Makino Tsukishi, OC guy, Domyouji Tsukasa (mentioned)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1000
Day/Theme: February 15 / money can't buy love but it improves your bargaining position
Series: Hana Yori Dango (manga verse, but it doesn't really matter)
Characters: Makino Tsukishi, OC guy, Domyouji Tsukasa (mentioned)
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1000
Makino Tsukushi was beginning to doze off in class when the nasal droning of the ancient college professor was interrupted by a respectful rap on the door. The rickety gentleman scratched at his mustache, pushed the slipping spectacles up his nose, and slowly made for the door. The visitor wasn't visible from where she sat, so Tsukushi couldn't see with whom the teacher seemed in deep discussion with. At any rate, it gave her time to catch up on note-taking, hastily scribbling down the lengthy material her teacher had miraculously populated with his tortoise speed (which then led to a couple of conclusions: one, she's been sleeping for several minutes, and two, that wet spot on her notebook was drool.)
"Makino-san," came the voice that interrupted her mental regrouping. "You have a visitor."
Slightly puzzled, Tsukushi excused herself and began slinking out the classroom.
"Bring your things with you," her teacher said, freezing her on the spot. "I won't have the class interrupted twice. And don't forget; the submission of your second draft is next Thursday."
Tsukushi did as she was told, stuffing her things into her dogeared backpack. She made a final quizzical glance at her professor before shutting the door. Curious. The old man had been harping about that second draft for days and now he's extending the deadline by a whole week? Tsukushi shook her head. At least, she now had time to cram for that functional analysis test next---
"Ahem."
She stopped abruptly, remembering that she had been thrown out the classroom for having a visitor. Most of the time, she still couldn't figure out these people. Geeze. How complicated do they have to make her life?
"Makino-sama," the inoffensive man began earnestly. "I have correspondence for you."
Tsukushi blinked at the person in front of her, goggling at his neatly pressed business suit and professional appearance. He was probably in his late thirties, and otherwise nondescript. "If this is some sort of death threat. . ." she muttered, taking the folded piece of paper, anyway. In a neat handwriting, it stated the following:
Oi! You crazy, bad-tempered woman!
"Domyouji," Tsukushi groaned. "I should have known.
I know I didn't get to call you on the usual date day, but is that any reason to ignore Ore-sama's phone calls and e-mails?!
Her cellphone has been disconnected for about two weeks now and she never had internet connection in the first place. She had switched jobs early this year, and so she no longer had access to the office computers she used to sneak with during lull times. What he called their "date day" referred to the first Sunday night of the month, Sunday morning for him, wherein he was usually free to call her. She didn't know he didn't call since her phone was disconnected three days before that.
Never mind that. I know you're still alive because I had the F3 check on you---is this bastard serious? Today should be Valentines Day there. You're excused from your classes on Friday, Saturday, Monday, and Tuesday, and you will be recompensed for the days you miss work. Also, enclosed with this letter is an extension of one of Ore-sama's cards. Use it well.
As if on cue, the pleasant-seeming man handed her a rectangular metallic object she vaguely recognized as a credit card.
"Is he trying to buy me?!" Makino sputtered indignantly, turning a variety of shades. She tried to return it to the man.
"There's more, Makino-sama," he said respectfully. Instead of taking the card she insistently pressed to him, he handed her another sheet of paper. This one was written differently, with a far less legible hand and a couple of misspellings.
I'll kill you if you use it to get my honmei choco! Ore-sama wants it handmade with love from the woman he approves of.
Ore-sama's long-distance girlfriend went ballistic.
"That stupid Domyouji!" she barked out, suddenly marching her way down the corridor and down the ornate stairway in the College of Science building of prestigious Eitoku University. "That octopus head! I'll be the one doing some killing here! Who the hell does he think he is? As if I was actually planning to get him any kind of chocolate in the first place. That pig-headed, egotistic, self-satisfied son of a--"
"There's still more, Makino-sama," the gentleman timidly called out after her. "The last page."
She recovered a semblance of sanity and halted her descent with a huff. The man approached her carefully and handed her the last page.
If there's any spelling mistake in this letter, it's that guy's fault. I sent him to pick you up because it was his ass I had to save in that emergency board meeting that Sunday morning, which made me not call you, and made you mad. Ore-sama gives you permission to kick his property.
"Isawa Shouhei, at your service." The man bowed low. "Until we arrive in New York, I will be the young mistress's personal assistant."
"Not to be rude to you, Isawa-san," Tsukushi said with another attempt at calming herself. "But you can tell that arrogant bastard that I--" She stopped abruptly, falling silent for a few moments, as if deep in thought.
"You say this can buy anything?" she inquired, holding up the black piece of metal.
"More or less," Isawa Shohei conceded. "But if you don't mind my presumption, I don't think it necessary. Our flight leaves at ten o'clock."
"That's two hours from now! Is he out of his---Gah! I'll kill him!"
"Yes, yes," the unruffled man murmured. "If we make it in time."
"What are we waiting for then?" Tsukushi asked with a feral smile. "I have lots to tell him---in person."
"That's the spirit, young mistress."
"Don't call me that!"
"Orders, sorry. And I shall carry that bag for you. You don't have time to pack so we will spend tomorrow morning shopping in Madison Avenue."
"I really will kill him."
"Fifth Avenue, if you prefer."
"Argh!"
~1942 021508
"Makino-san," came the voice that interrupted her mental regrouping. "You have a visitor."
Slightly puzzled, Tsukushi excused herself and began slinking out the classroom.
"Bring your things with you," her teacher said, freezing her on the spot. "I won't have the class interrupted twice. And don't forget; the submission of your second draft is next Thursday."
Tsukushi did as she was told, stuffing her things into her dogeared backpack. She made a final quizzical glance at her professor before shutting the door. Curious. The old man had been harping about that second draft for days and now he's extending the deadline by a whole week? Tsukushi shook her head. At least, she now had time to cram for that functional analysis test next---
"Ahem."
She stopped abruptly, remembering that she had been thrown out the classroom for having a visitor. Most of the time, she still couldn't figure out these people. Geeze. How complicated do they have to make her life?
"Makino-sama," the inoffensive man began earnestly. "I have correspondence for you."
Tsukushi blinked at the person in front of her, goggling at his neatly pressed business suit and professional appearance. He was probably in his late thirties, and otherwise nondescript. "If this is some sort of death threat. . ." she muttered, taking the folded piece of paper, anyway. In a neat handwriting, it stated the following:
Oi! You crazy, bad-tempered woman!
"Domyouji," Tsukushi groaned. "I should have known.
I know I didn't get to call you on the usual date day, but is that any reason to ignore Ore-sama's phone calls and e-mails?!
Her cellphone has been disconnected for about two weeks now and she never had internet connection in the first place. She had switched jobs early this year, and so she no longer had access to the office computers she used to sneak with during lull times. What he called their "date day" referred to the first Sunday night of the month, Sunday morning for him, wherein he was usually free to call her. She didn't know he didn't call since her phone was disconnected three days before that.
Never mind that. I know you're still alive because I had the F3 check on you---is this bastard serious? Today should be Valentines Day there. You're excused from your classes on Friday, Saturday, Monday, and Tuesday, and you will be recompensed for the days you miss work. Also, enclosed with this letter is an extension of one of Ore-sama's cards. Use it well.
As if on cue, the pleasant-seeming man handed her a rectangular metallic object she vaguely recognized as a credit card.
"Is he trying to buy me?!" Makino sputtered indignantly, turning a variety of shades. She tried to return it to the man.
"There's more, Makino-sama," he said respectfully. Instead of taking the card she insistently pressed to him, he handed her another sheet of paper. This one was written differently, with a far less legible hand and a couple of misspellings.
I'll kill you if you use it to get my honmei choco! Ore-sama wants it handmade with love from the woman he approves of.
Ore-sama's long-distance girlfriend went ballistic.
"That stupid Domyouji!" she barked out, suddenly marching her way down the corridor and down the ornate stairway in the College of Science building of prestigious Eitoku University. "That octopus head! I'll be the one doing some killing here! Who the hell does he think he is? As if I was actually planning to get him any kind of chocolate in the first place. That pig-headed, egotistic, self-satisfied son of a--"
"There's still more, Makino-sama," the gentleman timidly called out after her. "The last page."
She recovered a semblance of sanity and halted her descent with a huff. The man approached her carefully and handed her the last page.
If there's any spelling mistake in this letter, it's that guy's fault. I sent him to pick you up because it was his ass I had to save in that emergency board meeting that Sunday morning, which made me not call you, and made you mad. Ore-sama gives you permission to kick his property.
"Isawa Shouhei, at your service." The man bowed low. "Until we arrive in New York, I will be the young mistress's personal assistant."
"Not to be rude to you, Isawa-san," Tsukushi said with another attempt at calming herself. "But you can tell that arrogant bastard that I--" She stopped abruptly, falling silent for a few moments, as if deep in thought.
"You say this can buy anything?" she inquired, holding up the black piece of metal.
"More or less," Isawa Shohei conceded. "But if you don't mind my presumption, I don't think it necessary. Our flight leaves at ten o'clock."
"That's two hours from now! Is he out of his---Gah! I'll kill him!"
"Yes, yes," the unruffled man murmured. "If we make it in time."
"What are we waiting for then?" Tsukushi asked with a feral smile. "I have lots to tell him---in person."
"That's the spirit, young mistress."
"Don't call me that!"
"Orders, sorry. And I shall carry that bag for you. You don't have time to pack so we will spend tomorrow morning shopping in Madison Avenue."
"I really will kill him."
"Fifth Avenue, if you prefer."
"Argh!"
~1942 021508