A miracle memory was created, he won't forget it, and it's the moment where slumped strength gets on its right backtrack.
"I beg you not to give me an upset mind tonight, Seiran Ryu," threatened Akatsuki beneath gentle persuading. He's subduing the urge to not punch him flying back to where he came back from.
"The punch under the quilt is tight." Seiran's eyes to the invisible punch as he says.
"And then, it's your fault to the core," Akatsuki's snapped.
"Sora, I'm dulcify honey to milk. I'm sure the extra superb flavor of it will make you abrogate on hissy fit."
What? An unbelievable fit of passion that some of it is ennoble for the owner of an onsen ryokan master.
Akatsuki Sora's jerking twitching mode is sore of a salmagundi of jokes, bickering, and quarreling.
"It's time I'll save myself from hugger-mugger. I'll take on your invitation."
Seiran's smile traps the little hedgehog. Akatsuki Sora's not showing self-effacing though Seiran gambled mid on his side. Seiran's eyes are quick to hand holding his oversized shacket.
A moment of silence.
"I don't demand your explanation about bedizen at night but I just want to hold something so that I could move in yukata sleepwear."
"Not much of it. You have hours of prinking yourself to change into yukata sleepwear as well. So much that I have time to have a stroll outside in bedizen."
Between the two of them, it's the cachet modus operandi irritable in others' eyes. It's grok without adumbrate for people not in the same brain as theirs. Whereas there's none there.
Drama's denouement between older and younger, Seiran's unwillingness to Akatsuki's sycophant later becomes taradiddle for both of them. Still, he takes the hand to help Akatsuki get up.
"Take mine oxymoron as a reason why you shouldn't delay things any longer."
Seiran's oblique is like a zither melody he doesn't want to hear.
"It's impressive smorgasbord French cuisine of dessert earlier," said Akatsuki.
"You're gambol-like at finishing it off," said Seiran.
"I'm sure we're at the table to eat not to talk, Seiran Ryu," sarcasm. "It very well plethora desserts aligned well to be of a connoisseur with your personality," another sarcasm.
"Poetize your nebulous poetry," a sarcasm returned to its owner.
Seiran's around and he had no time to practice bed rotting. The man always had ways to make him always on the move except when he was sleeping or in need of rest. Never he was sick because of Seiran's imaginative trouble because it for him is only imaginable and illusory.
No talking on their way to the kitchen. Seiran's looking around. Cats and kittens are all around the house. As an ailurophile family from generations, cats are having carte blanche than their owners.
She says no need for finding house troubles, and he's listened well to grandma's natter. It was a hogwash when he thought he was going to live with his grandma after came back from abroad.
A conversation that sounds like she wants him to live with her from phone calls. Many things about the onsen ryokan house from before and his plans after returning to Japan maneuver him to end up at a place of childhood.
An onsen ryokan has gone through a thorough renovation after his grandma's hocus-pocus about an old onsen ryokan that's not hers anymore.
"I wonder if it'll be your quotidian in your service every time you let a guest sleep in the living room, Seiran-sama?"
"Don't worry, it's a service that's only available to you," said Seiran.
"I always admire an orotund speech," answered Akatsuki.
It's a night where stars from distant skies are very clear and shining brightly. The sight of two men walking in light footsteps, wearing distinct clothes in an onsen ryokan despite rules of attire when one in the place gives out a pulchritudinous amalgamate that does not require stipulation.
A long time since he steps into onsen ryokan's kitchen. As a kid, he only entered the kitchen when he was hungry or to watch Seiran or other chefs do their jobs. Seiran's voice woke him up from long-time nostalgia.
"Sora, come over here," whispered Seiran softly.
It's the voice calling to him telling him about his favorite desserts he lusts after. Risible sentiment outburst in stitches. Suppose Weltschmerz never gets in the way prune to Seiran's cavil leave imponderabilia wonder.
Akatsuki gulped down honeyed milk at one time. "You're welcome, Ryu," drawled Akatsuki.
"I know you're a cream puff so much it's like an extra drug evocative in my mind and memory."
"I'm not famished for another extra service."
"It's justice to be done on my behalf to ensure you sleep well tonight. Less I'm hearing your complaints tomorrow at the breakfast table."
Looking around, the kitchen is more commodious than he thought. An imaginative Seiran's figure cooking somewhere is insouciant his mind from other things.
"Help me in the kitchen a bit."
A gullywasher crashes wild rich inner-worldly imagination. "I don't work for night shift. And I have a work which is I know I'm not working at your onsen ryokan, Ryu-sama."
"I'm somnolent by the time guarding a guest who will sleep in the living room."
"Don't you have a manservant or do you lack money to give out as payment you should have gut I'm hoity-toity to be directed in the direction you want."
Using honorifics with each other is a must when they are at the edge pushing each other over the hill's cliff to see which one falls first.
A childish game never over over their ages over the years of education, social life, and jobs.
An overly dramatic drama between elders got Akatsuki Saya's 'Thank you for it' up till now he never called them brothers but names as well as honorifics plays.
An older brother who knows acts infecting Saya like a damn virus without a cure is not an enigma never ending flowing and out of the norm to fixed people habitually habits.
"It a generous pay just to watch me."
"My eyes for sleeping time right now. Not to watch your work, Ryu-sama."