02.
❝you got troubles,i've got them too
there isn't anything i wouldn't do for you❞
— toy story.
—————
"Comment a-lay-vou, Marlin?"
"It's como-t'alle-vou, good sire."
"Gomen ne," said Kenji Louvis, smearing raspberry jam on a toast dully, "Does Paris ever get hot?"
"June to September"
"Speak louder. I'm not going to stab you with this," to make his point, he stabbed the slab of butter instead. It became coral pink. His right hand man, Marlin Dubois, eyed him curiously and contently — for Kenji Louvis being half Japanese definitely paid off — he was always so heart warming. "Did you learn I Love Paris song yet?" The old guy teased him.
Kenji shook head. He grinned.
"But I don't love Paris."
"You haven't even visited the Eiffel tower yet. You should, then we'll talk."
Between large bites, Kenji flipped his MacBook. And that was that, end of conversation. Casual time over. He pushed back a set of clear cut glasses over nose, prescription glasses, and check his day planner. "Hmm, I'm free after five."
Did I forgot to mention he was kind? Because he was. Like a preschool teacher, or more. Always obliging, certainly most dependable.
Marlin followed him. He keyed the engine, a small smile playing on his lips since he loved sight seeing, and murmured, "Thank you, sire"
Kenji was in the middle of prepping for his conference. He was skimming through his notes, a collection of My Melody themed post-its that he'd received last week from one of his youngest pupils, which he said he'd return but decided against it. Small, loopy handwriting, headers underlined, mostly it contained a lists of Do Not's, if anything.
When he heard Marlin speak, he relaxed. "Yeah, well, don't count on it."
True to his words, Marlin Dubois SHOULD NOT HAVE counted on it. Skies were alight fashioning light drizzling as soon as he spotted Kenji's 6'0 figure emerging. He was still in his conference attire, a sea of attendees following.
Kenji tried not to appear disappointed. For starters, it was Marlin's idea in the first place to go to Eiffel tower — in December, no less.
"You can do it some other time, yes? Maybe with somebody romantic."
Kenji acknowledged his efforts to console him. "Maybe," he said bitterly, not unkindly.
The man drove leisurely. "You are forty. You have a life ahead of you. One decades or two, right sir?" Code : stop wasting time. You aren't getting any younger.
It certainly didn't feel that way sometimes, Kenji thought. "It's a long life, Marlin."
"Wouldn't you say that with a happier face?"
Kenji snorted. "You have a wife in this country, your son is studying at HEC, your annual income is $146, 000 excluding the taxes—"
"— yours is double —"
"— and I'm still not half as happy as you. What does that say?" Kenji's humour was apparently lost on Marlin, gripped the steering wheel, anxious and interested as to why Kenji Louvis, a famous marine biologist had always a small frown painted on his face. He'd eye tear bags that crinkled every time he smiled, and every time he did so — he'd grin sheepishly, unsure, as if smiling were a crime.
"What do you wish for?"
Seldom, Kenji scratched his wrist and pondered over it himself. "I wish my funds are well used... I wish to study the sea til my last breath... I wish I to have so much time... That I'd visit each and every international conferences, if not speak in all of them..." With a dull thud, his head fell against the tinted window glass causing Marlin to open the glove compartment and produce a neck pillow for him. "I wish you'd stop at the nearest hotel, Marlin."
"Right away, sire."
Sweet, cosmic child — Kenji Louvis.
"How did you like your onion soup?"
"It was my first time having it, Marlin."
"You pronounced cassoulet quite well, sire. Even the waitress was in awe,"
Kenji brushed it off. "I didn't enjoy it much"
"You don't like pork?"
"White beans. In fact, all pulses. "
"Why is that, sire—"
Kenji couldn't reply. Black eyes narrowed, what he saw next was an appalling sight. A woman standing on the riser of the building, elegantly dressed as if to attract attention, which she did. A crowd started to form below. Many patrons gasping. The manager himself came out, to inspect the commotion.
Of course, Marlin was immersed in parking out smoothly. There was a glass barrier in between the Lady Misfortune on Kenji's inner world. Kenji was determined to overcome that.
Before Marlin could register, the door was yanked open and his good sir disappeared. Getting out from a vehicle in motion wasn't the best idea, but like who gives a fuck? So, Kenji didn't stop to think. His body was on autopilot. Instincts dominating.
A woman just attempted suicide. Somebody decided they've had enough. This, could be someone's last day, this, city of love, or lovers because you can always find someone dwindling outside the double doors — in this situation, on a riser.
"CALL 911, YOU DUMB FUCK!" Kenji shouted back.
———
this is a dual pov, written in third person.
kenji is so fucking sweet.
if someone's french, or japanese, kindly point out any lame ass errors, kay? xx
