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Mogeta and the Blue-Collar Princess
A Fruits Basket fanfic by Sakura.
Standard disclaimers apply.


Written for the 30 Kisses LJ community (pairing: Yukiru).
theme: #10 [10]

2005.02.26.

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They were both to blame --- Tohru read the time wrong on the kitchen clock, and Yuki secretly wanted out of the house before any of his cousins arrived.  After a harried, unnecessary dash downtown, they found themselves in front of the cinema with an hour to spare.  In her haste, Tohru had forgotten a glove, so Yuki gave her his right to wear, took her left hand in his now gloveless own, and stuffed them in the pocket of his coat for warmth.  (Some small part of him marveled at how she didn’t protest, at how easily her fingers curled around his.) 

 

“I really thought it was almost three o’clock,” Tohru sighed. 

 

“Never mind, Honda-san.”  Yuki smiled.  “Since we’re here, why don’t we pick a movie to watch?”

 

“All right.”  She smiled back.  The brown in her eyes turned into something not quite like brown in the afternoon light.  “What would you like to see, Yuki-kun?”

 

“Um,” he shifted his gaze to the billboards, hoping his face wasn’t flushed, “anything, I suppose.  What would you like?”  There was a foreign action movie, a romantic comedy, an OL drama, and---

 

“Mogeta!” Tohru exclaimed.  Inside his pocket, her hand squeezed his hand, as if to say oh oh, look look!  The billboard in question was predominantly pink, with a boy and girl moving as if to kiss, and below them in bold letters read Mogeta and the Blue-Collar Princess.  “It’s the tenth Mogeta movie!  It’s finally here!”

 

Yuki had seen only one Mogeta movie, an hour-long ordeal about a young boy and his bouncing sidekick battling a throng of angry salarymen fighting for their right to pass on dishwashing on weekends.  It was social commentary of the (terribly) wrong sort, a bigger waste of time than any of Shigure’s dippy pre-teen romances.  The sentiment must have shown in his face somehow, because Tohru suddenly turned to the adjacent billboard, the romantic comedy.  “Shall we watch that one, Yuki-kun?  It looks really interesting.  Some girls in class were talking about it the other day...”

 

He stared at her (she was smiling, but she was so easy to read), and slowly, deliberately, drew her hand out of his pocket and lifted it to point at the Mogeta billboard.

 

She blinked.

 

“That one,” he simply said.

 

The way she looked at him made him feel like he could sit through all the Mogeta movies he could cram in an afternoon, a month, a year, and still come out alive.

 

“Yes,” she said, softly. 

 

Then they both settled down to wait.

 

 

[ end ]