BETWEEN THE FRIES AND THE SHAKE (wenli) wrote in yugiohgx_yaoi,
BETWEEN THE FRIES AND THE SHAKE
wenli
yugiohgx_yaoi

Sunday Orange, Boy Blue

Have some fanfiction. :D

Title: Sunday Orange, Boy Blue
Summary: Fubuki muses on Marufuji Ryo, the nature of signs, and the irony of color. [FubukixRyo.]
Rating: K.
Word Count: 310.
Warnings: Very light shounen-ai.
Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh! GX is not mine, unfortunately.

Author's Note: I know nobody likes a lengthy author's note, but this may be essential to read so that you won't be totally lost. Allow me to get straight to the point: I have been wanting to write Fubuki as a synesthete for a while now, and have finally managed to do it in this fic. If you don't know what synesthesia is, Google it--it's a fascinating condition. Secondly, I wrote this with a post-GX setting in mind. Thirdly, the fic is slightly disjointed; definitely one of the weirder things I've written. That being said, enjoy. :3



Fubuki truly feels that his logic, however bizarre, really makes the most sense so long as you're tolerant enough to give it a chance.

To him, Sundays are orange and always have been, which must be why the stores that close on Sunday sometimes have black signs with orange lettering. 'Sorry, we're closed', they declare, hanging lazily in dusty windows. Fubuki thinks Ryo is a lot like those signs, in a way-- he's closed, and there's nothing anybody can really do about it.

It is Sunday, and Fubuki realizes the irony of orange and blue being complementary colors, because blue happens to be the color of Ryo's eyes and hair (and perhaps his overall demeanor, as well).

Ryo isn't sorry, though. He never has been.

---

The next Sunday, Fubuki wakes up feeling orange. His first thought is, Who needs a calendar when you have colors? Because, really, his logic does make sense as long as you don't immediately snub it.

Fubuki decides he'll spend his Sunday surfing. He decides to walk to the beach rather than drive, if not for any other reason than to wholly feel the breeze on his face.

On the way to the beach are a number of shops and restraunts. 'Sorry, we're closed,' The signs say. Nobody's really sorry about it, and he thinks of Ryo once again. Closed, but never ever sorry.

The ocean comes into view, and a smile graces Fubuki's lips. Blue, like Ryo, complementary to Sunday's orange.

Shop owners taking the day off aren't apologetic in the slightest. Ryo isn't sorry for how distant he is. Fubuki isn't sorry for maybe being in love with Ryo, although the chances are Ryo would tell him he's wasting his time.

Fubuki finally reaches the water and lets himself be consumed by blue. As far as he's concerned, nothing compares.

END
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