polychromatic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
polychromatic) wrote2010-11-09 11:46 am
polychromatic) wrote2010-11-09 11:46 am
Entry tags:
once upon a time there was a princess who could not shed tears
Kimi wa Petto
The Necessity of a Pet
Sumire x Momo
An ill-fated attempt at writing for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
30_kisses challenge.
Theme: look over here!
706 words.
He was starting to feel sorry for real pets. How heartbreaking it must be to sit at home and wait for your master all day only to be ignored upon their arrival. How disappointing to expect at least a pat on the head and a cheery “Good boy, Momo!” and receive instead a curt reply, a painful smack across the head, and shove that had him rolling on the floor in pain for ten minutes. Granted, Momo was pretty sure he got more abuse than a regular pet would since he was human and all. Sure, he was annoyed with Sumire-chan, but that didn’t mean he could actually visualize her beating the crap out of a defenseless puppy. Only him.
So this was her punishment; him curled up in one corner of the apartment, refusing to acknowledge her or respond to her beseeching now that she’d had a smoke and calmed down enough to realize that he was ignoring her. He hated her smoking, was crazy enough to admit that he was annoyed that she would rather depend on her cigarettes than on him for a soothing effect. Isn’t that what a pet was for? But still, he would go to the store and “fetch” them for her anyway because they made her happy, and that was the number one priority of a pet, to make their masters happy.
Stupid cigarettes.
“Momo, I’m sorry, okay? Here, I’ll make you an omelette and give you a bath, just don’t ignore me anymore, please?” she pleaded with him in dulcet tones, holding out a place of cookies to entice him into looking at her at the very least.
Well… if she’d bought cookies for him… “Okay, you’re forgiven, Sumire-chan!” he spun around and grabbed a cookie before she could react, cramming the whole thing into his mouth. “Mmm, it’s good! It’s really… ACK!” he spluttered as his esophagus protested that no, he really couldn’t swallow a whole cookie in one gulp.
“You’d think that you would have learned to stop inhaling your food by now,” Sumire sighed, patting him half-heartedly on the back as he coughed and hacked all over her hardwood floor, “Don’t you ever…?” but he had bounced back from his near-death experience, already chewing on another cookie as he eyed her warily.
“You’ll still give me a bath, right? Even though I made a mess? Cause you promised!”
Sumire stared at the crumb-covered spot on the floor, mentally shook herself, and stood up, brushing off the crumbs that had landed on her skirt. “Come on, you get the bath ready and I’ll clean this up.”
His face broke into a wide, earnest grin, the one that made her stomach warm and her muscles relax. It was like basking in a warm bath. “Roger!” he saluted before he dashed to the washroom, letting out a yelp as he slipped on a mat and nearly tumbled head over heels down the hallway.
And this was why he was so good for her, this mixed feeling of wanting to laugh at him and wanting to rush to his side to see if he was hurt. This was why she needed him because she knew that around him, she could do both.
As she bent down to clean up his mess (spit and crumbs everywhere! At least he was housebroken…) there was a sudden patter of footsteps behind her and she nearly toppled forward as Momo, flinging his arms around her shoulders, came just short of crashing full-speed into her. “Momo! What are you - ?”
He kissed her once on each cheek before nuzzling the top of his head into her neck, his unruly hair tickling her chin. “I forgot to say thank you. For the cookies, I mean,” he murmured into her ear, and Sumire felt that funny twist in her stomach that only her pet could inspire in her. Before she could respond though, he was already flying back in the direction of the bathroom, this time narrowly missing the doorframe in his excitement.
She felt the smile long before it crept across her face, felt the peace and complete comfort of being herself and being loved for it.
And this was why she needed him.
Kimi wa Petto
Teaching a Pet to Fetch Mail
Sumire x Momo
An ill-fated attempt at writing for the30_kisses challenge.
Theme: news; letter
1132 words.
“Sumire-chan! Sumire-chan, it’s burni- uwaaaah~! It’s on fire!!”
Mentally berating herself for not sticking a collar on Momo and tying his leash to the ladder leading up to his loft, Sumire scrambled out of bed and burst into her living room. A quick glance at the kitchen yielded to her tired eyes an image of a panicking Momo and a handful of dancing flames sprouting from the pan atop the stove. Dashing towards her usually immaculate kitchen, Sumire shoved Momo aside, grabbed the pan of flaming unidentifiable mush, and threw it into the sink under cold water.
”Owwww,” Momo was rubbing his head with a pain expression, “You pushed me into the counter, Sumire-chan! How cruel!”
“You nearly set my apartment on fire!” she shot back impatiently, surveying what had been a spotless kitchen the night before. Pools of… she didn’t want to know what, dotted the floor, containers spilled their contents onto her counters into patterns of swirls, and half-a-dozen egg shells were oozing on the stovetop. Not to mention the mountain of dishes and utensils that had been piled up in one corner.
It didn’t help that Momo was still whimpering in one corner about his bruised head either.
“Momo… what were you doing?” she asked slowly, carefully controlling the volume of her voice. The last thing she needed to do was have a shouting contest this early in the morning with her pet. It would be a disaster if her neighbours found out that she had a pet, nevermind the whole aspect of her pet being a human boy.
The injured, crumpled expression that Sumire could never stand up against started to appear on Momo’s face as his head drooped shamefully downwards till his chin touched his chest. “I was just trying to cook you breakfast,” he mumbled, kicking at one of the puddles of gunk with his toes.
Breakfast? He could barely handle cooking a pack of instant noodles, forget breakfast. “I see… but Momo-”
“I wanted to serve you breakfast in bed, see?” he interrupted her, perking up like an enthusiastic puppy who was willing to do anything for approval, “I saw it on TV! This little boy made his mom a huuuuuuuge breakfast, and the mom was so happy she cried! So I thought, I haven’t ever seen Sumire-chan cry when she’s happy before, so I’ll try to make her breakfast! Ah, but I guess I put too much oil in the pan, and the flour was really lumpy, and the eggs turned everything funny colours so I was going to try again but I forgot I left the stove on and-”
“Enough!”
He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes growing wide at the harsh tone and she instantly felt guilty for yelling like that. It was just that his yammering was sometimes more than she could take, especially after having only recently been woken up to save her apartment from a fiery fate. She sighed, scratched the side of her head, and yawned a head-splitting yawn. “Just go down and get the mail, okay? And don’t try to open the wrong mailbox again.” The manager had come across Momo trying to force open a neighbour’s mailbox one time and had chased him out of the complex yelling about intruders and trespassers. They were just lucky he hadn’t gotten a good look at Momo’s face.
“Right! Got it!” he rushed out of the kitchen and she heard the door slam a few seconds later.
She sighed again, surveying the mess that waited for her. “At least a dog wouldn’t have made this big of a mess…” But then again, a dog wouldn’t have tried to make her breakfast and the thought behind the gesture was certainly very nice, even if the mess that it had resulted in wasn’t. Still… “You’d think he’d have more sense than to try and cook,” she muttered to herself as she pulled the mop out of the closet and started wiping up the puddles on the ground.
When she heard the door slam again, signaling her well-meaning-but-troublesome pet’s return, she expected the usual random chatter and comments about people with funny names and strange titles. But this time he was kind of quiet, subdued, something like the Momo she had seen a few times outside of the apartment. “Momo, what’s wrong?” she questioned curiously, stepping into a puddle and barely suppressing a grimace.
He brightened up immediately and eagerly handed her a thick stack of letters, “Looks like mostly bills, Sumire-chan! How boooring~” he sang out, but something about his voice sounded a little strained… and what was that he was hiding behind his back?
“Momo, are you stealing my letters? What a bad pet you are!” she reprimanded him, half-teasing, half-serious. It wouldn’t do to have him start keeping her mail to himself!
He took a step backwards, still grinning, “Nope, it’s mine!”
“But no one knows you’re living here, right? So it must be mine,” she looked at him suspiciously, dropping the broom and stepping towards him, leaving sticky footprints in her wake.
“No, but it’s really mine!” he shook his head furiously, giving her that same injured look, like a puppy who had been kicked.
He turned around and attempted to scramble up the ladder, but Sumire was too fast for him and within seconds she had him pinned to the floor, his arm twisted behind his back as she sat on top of him and grabbed the letter from his flailing fingertips. “OW! OWWWW~! SUMIRE-CHAN, YOU’RE HEAVY!”
“Who’re you calling heavy?!” she responded haughtily with a flip of her hair as she turned the letter over.
And there it was in ink, scrawled in a spidery handwriting. His name: Goda Takeshi. But that must mean - !
Before she knew what was happening there was a flailing of limbs and Momo had somehow flipped over and pushed her onto the floor, their roles suddenly reversed. “It’s not nice to steal other people’s stuff!” he teased with a grin.
Like hell she was letting go of the letter! Not until she got to the bottom of this! “Momo, who did you te-?”
Before she could continue he had pressed his lips against hers in a smooth, practiced motion. Gentle but firm. It wasn’t the first time he’d managed to catch her off guard, but Sumire felt herself getting flustered. He must have had a lot of practice, that brat!
“Ha! I got it!” he jumped up, waving the letter jubilantly in the air before making a mad dash for the ladder.
But Sumire was too tired to give chase at this point. She lay on the floor, unaware that her head lay in a sticky footprint of goo, silently scolding herself for ever letting this troublesome pet into her life.
The Necessity of a Pet
Sumire x Momo
An ill-fated attempt at writing for the
30_kisses challenge.Theme: look over here!
706 words.
He was starting to feel sorry for real pets. How heartbreaking it must be to sit at home and wait for your master all day only to be ignored upon their arrival. How disappointing to expect at least a pat on the head and a cheery “Good boy, Momo!” and receive instead a curt reply, a painful smack across the head, and shove that had him rolling on the floor in pain for ten minutes. Granted, Momo was pretty sure he got more abuse than a regular pet would since he was human and all. Sure, he was annoyed with Sumire-chan, but that didn’t mean he could actually visualize her beating the crap out of a defenseless puppy. Only him.
So this was her punishment; him curled up in one corner of the apartment, refusing to acknowledge her or respond to her beseeching now that she’d had a smoke and calmed down enough to realize that he was ignoring her. He hated her smoking, was crazy enough to admit that he was annoyed that she would rather depend on her cigarettes than on him for a soothing effect. Isn’t that what a pet was for? But still, he would go to the store and “fetch” them for her anyway because they made her happy, and that was the number one priority of a pet, to make their masters happy.
Stupid cigarettes.
“Momo, I’m sorry, okay? Here, I’ll make you an omelette and give you a bath, just don’t ignore me anymore, please?” she pleaded with him in dulcet tones, holding out a place of cookies to entice him into looking at her at the very least.
Well… if she’d bought cookies for him… “Okay, you’re forgiven, Sumire-chan!” he spun around and grabbed a cookie before she could react, cramming the whole thing into his mouth. “Mmm, it’s good! It’s really… ACK!” he spluttered as his esophagus protested that no, he really couldn’t swallow a whole cookie in one gulp.
“You’d think that you would have learned to stop inhaling your food by now,” Sumire sighed, patting him half-heartedly on the back as he coughed and hacked all over her hardwood floor, “Don’t you ever…?” but he had bounced back from his near-death experience, already chewing on another cookie as he eyed her warily.
“You’ll still give me a bath, right? Even though I made a mess? Cause you promised!”
Sumire stared at the crumb-covered spot on the floor, mentally shook herself, and stood up, brushing off the crumbs that had landed on her skirt. “Come on, you get the bath ready and I’ll clean this up.”
His face broke into a wide, earnest grin, the one that made her stomach warm and her muscles relax. It was like basking in a warm bath. “Roger!” he saluted before he dashed to the washroom, letting out a yelp as he slipped on a mat and nearly tumbled head over heels down the hallway.
And this was why he was so good for her, this mixed feeling of wanting to laugh at him and wanting to rush to his side to see if he was hurt. This was why she needed him because she knew that around him, she could do both.
As she bent down to clean up his mess (spit and crumbs everywhere! At least he was housebroken…) there was a sudden patter of footsteps behind her and she nearly toppled forward as Momo, flinging his arms around her shoulders, came just short of crashing full-speed into her. “Momo! What are you - ?”
He kissed her once on each cheek before nuzzling the top of his head into her neck, his unruly hair tickling her chin. “I forgot to say thank you. For the cookies, I mean,” he murmured into her ear, and Sumire felt that funny twist in her stomach that only her pet could inspire in her. Before she could respond though, he was already flying back in the direction of the bathroom, this time narrowly missing the doorframe in his excitement.
She felt the smile long before it crept across her face, felt the peace and complete comfort of being herself and being loved for it.
And this was why she needed him.
Kimi wa Petto
Teaching a Pet to Fetch Mail
Sumire x Momo
An ill-fated attempt at writing for the
30_kisses challenge.Theme: news; letter
1132 words.
“Sumire-chan! Sumire-chan, it’s burni- uwaaaah~! It’s on fire!!”
Mentally berating herself for not sticking a collar on Momo and tying his leash to the ladder leading up to his loft, Sumire scrambled out of bed and burst into her living room. A quick glance at the kitchen yielded to her tired eyes an image of a panicking Momo and a handful of dancing flames sprouting from the pan atop the stove. Dashing towards her usually immaculate kitchen, Sumire shoved Momo aside, grabbed the pan of flaming unidentifiable mush, and threw it into the sink under cold water.
”Owwww,” Momo was rubbing his head with a pain expression, “You pushed me into the counter, Sumire-chan! How cruel!”
“You nearly set my apartment on fire!” she shot back impatiently, surveying what had been a spotless kitchen the night before. Pools of… she didn’t want to know what, dotted the floor, containers spilled their contents onto her counters into patterns of swirls, and half-a-dozen egg shells were oozing on the stovetop. Not to mention the mountain of dishes and utensils that had been piled up in one corner.
It didn’t help that Momo was still whimpering in one corner about his bruised head either.
“Momo… what were you doing?” she asked slowly, carefully controlling the volume of her voice. The last thing she needed to do was have a shouting contest this early in the morning with her pet. It would be a disaster if her neighbours found out that she had a pet, nevermind the whole aspect of her pet being a human boy.
The injured, crumpled expression that Sumire could never stand up against started to appear on Momo’s face as his head drooped shamefully downwards till his chin touched his chest. “I was just trying to cook you breakfast,” he mumbled, kicking at one of the puddles of gunk with his toes.
Breakfast? He could barely handle cooking a pack of instant noodles, forget breakfast. “I see… but Momo-”
“I wanted to serve you breakfast in bed, see?” he interrupted her, perking up like an enthusiastic puppy who was willing to do anything for approval, “I saw it on TV! This little boy made his mom a huuuuuuuge breakfast, and the mom was so happy she cried! So I thought, I haven’t ever seen Sumire-chan cry when she’s happy before, so I’ll try to make her breakfast! Ah, but I guess I put too much oil in the pan, and the flour was really lumpy, and the eggs turned everything funny colours so I was going to try again but I forgot I left the stove on and-”
“Enough!”
He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes growing wide at the harsh tone and she instantly felt guilty for yelling like that. It was just that his yammering was sometimes more than she could take, especially after having only recently been woken up to save her apartment from a fiery fate. She sighed, scratched the side of her head, and yawned a head-splitting yawn. “Just go down and get the mail, okay? And don’t try to open the wrong mailbox again.” The manager had come across Momo trying to force open a neighbour’s mailbox one time and had chased him out of the complex yelling about intruders and trespassers. They were just lucky he hadn’t gotten a good look at Momo’s face.
“Right! Got it!” he rushed out of the kitchen and she heard the door slam a few seconds later.
She sighed again, surveying the mess that waited for her. “At least a dog wouldn’t have made this big of a mess…” But then again, a dog wouldn’t have tried to make her breakfast and the thought behind the gesture was certainly very nice, even if the mess that it had resulted in wasn’t. Still… “You’d think he’d have more sense than to try and cook,” she muttered to herself as she pulled the mop out of the closet and started wiping up the puddles on the ground.
When she heard the door slam again, signaling her well-meaning-but-troublesome pet’s return, she expected the usual random chatter and comments about people with funny names and strange titles. But this time he was kind of quiet, subdued, something like the Momo she had seen a few times outside of the apartment. “Momo, what’s wrong?” she questioned curiously, stepping into a puddle and barely suppressing a grimace.
He brightened up immediately and eagerly handed her a thick stack of letters, “Looks like mostly bills, Sumire-chan! How boooring~” he sang out, but something about his voice sounded a little strained… and what was that he was hiding behind his back?
“Momo, are you stealing my letters? What a bad pet you are!” she reprimanded him, half-teasing, half-serious. It wouldn’t do to have him start keeping her mail to himself!
He took a step backwards, still grinning, “Nope, it’s mine!”
“But no one knows you’re living here, right? So it must be mine,” she looked at him suspiciously, dropping the broom and stepping towards him, leaving sticky footprints in her wake.
“No, but it’s really mine!” he shook his head furiously, giving her that same injured look, like a puppy who had been kicked.
He turned around and attempted to scramble up the ladder, but Sumire was too fast for him and within seconds she had him pinned to the floor, his arm twisted behind his back as she sat on top of him and grabbed the letter from his flailing fingertips. “OW! OWWWW~! SUMIRE-CHAN, YOU’RE HEAVY!”
“Who’re you calling heavy?!” she responded haughtily with a flip of her hair as she turned the letter over.
And there it was in ink, scrawled in a spidery handwriting. His name: Goda Takeshi. But that must mean - !
Before she knew what was happening there was a flailing of limbs and Momo had somehow flipped over and pushed her onto the floor, their roles suddenly reversed. “It’s not nice to steal other people’s stuff!” he teased with a grin.
Like hell she was letting go of the letter! Not until she got to the bottom of this! “Momo, who did you te-?”
Before she could continue he had pressed his lips against hers in a smooth, practiced motion. Gentle but firm. It wasn’t the first time he’d managed to catch her off guard, but Sumire felt herself getting flustered. He must have had a lot of practice, that brat!
“Ha! I got it!” he jumped up, waving the letter jubilantly in the air before making a mad dash for the ladder.
But Sumire was too tired to give chase at this point. She lay on the floor, unaware that her head lay in a sticky footprint of goo, silently scolding herself for ever letting this troublesome pet into her life.