I can't believe I'm posting this. Hell, I can't believe I wrote something in less than 10 minutes, and it is half coherent. Sort of.

Fandom: YnM, set after the Kyoto arc (spoilers... sort of).
Words: drabble, 178 words.
Summary: Oriya on mornings (and Muraki, but he really isn't important). Not meant to be taken seriously.
Warning: Run-on sentences are present. Mistakes are all mine.



Oriya was not so naïve as to believe that he would feel Muraki’s death. But then again, he did not need to believe the man was dead when he could still feel the greyness of Muraki humming in the back of his mind. Soft and gentle.

(Persistent. Like a damn leech.)

So, it wasn’t a great surprise when said leech greeted Oriya one early morning with a smile and a polite, ‘Good Morning, Oriya-san. I hope I’m not intruding.’

Oriya had raised a brow (ignoring the clench of his chest), walked up to Muraki at a sedate pace (no reason to hurry), and after a slow contemplation, in which Muraki had stared at Oriya with a bemused expression, Oriya had pivoted his hip, and delivered the most elegant lower kick that he had ever performed. The resounding impact was quite satisfying (the bruising on his shin will be worth it).

While Muraki slowly picked himself up from the floor, Oriya settled down, pulled back his sleeve, and poured tea for two.

‘Not at all Muraki-san. Pass the rice, please.’



I have no idea. But do comment. Even if it is just to flame me, at least that way I'll know I have done this horribly wrong.