The Big Book Of Amaguji

Tickets: 1% Guessing And 99% Stalking

The work day went on as usual. Kiyo didn't mention anything about the evening before and Rantaro didn't dare to try either. He hated seeing his beloved so upset from last evening just because he thought he was being weird. He'd wished he could come in his office and say sorry thousands and thousands of times until he tells him it was enough, it wouldn't happen though. His fantasies will just stay as such; fakes, falsehoods, etc.

This evening, he put more authenticity in his gift this time. After his usual eavesdropping session he overheard something, 'I would like to travel to Congo on our next week off. Though, the tickets are expensive.' He didn't waste anytime buying the tickets, though, wavering in his own slight jealousy that he didn't buy them for himself. He was an avid adventurer and traveling anywhere and everywhere gave him a thrill traveling by car couldn't have. Though, his manager, but more importantly Kiyo, came first.

He had the tickets in an envelope as he walked into the midium sized lobby, a slightly altered smile from his usual crept into his skin. People looked over but looked back a split second after, they didn't give him endless loyality and graditute for being superior to them for nothing. Kiyo sat on the lobby couch, holding a green velvet case. 'Marraige?' He thought and hoped.

"Amami-san, I'm glad you could come again."

"Amami-san? Y'know you could call me whatever, we're not at work."

"I just don't want to be rude, Amami-san."

He smiled at how feeble Kiyo sounded, like a puppy straying behind their mother.

"You're never rude, Kiyo-sama," he blushed at the honorfic, "you can call me whatever. Here."

He handed Kiyo the tickets as he gasped, "I... was planning to go to Congo. How could the odds be such in my favor?"

A few people from the mentioned meeting raised their eyebrows in suspicion. How is anyone this lucky to get tickets for a place that was mentioned not even 31 hours ago?

Kiyo chuckled sheepishly, "I guess my present doesn't compare now. I'd thank you a million times for these, Taro-san."

A guy wolfwhistled as he sat on the couch, stirring his drink, "Shortening the names now, Shinguji-sama? By the next White Week exchange, they'll be married with 4 adoptive kids." He laughed heartly as Rantaro blushed, a smile on his face and waving his hands in rejection. He didn't know what he was doing, he wanted to say 'I wish' but the tension between them... he'd rather defuse the outburst of whistles and laughs beforehand.

"No-no! I-I-It's not l-like that!" He stuttered.

"I would like to confirm," Kiyo said in a scarely serious tone. He'd seen Kiyo mad, and oh he would just drool at how hot his voice sounded, his eyes holding no emotion as his lips were nothing more than a thin line of emotionlessness. He looked like a king in court before an execution, he looked like an emotionless serial killer, he looked like a judge paid to have the accused killed. He looked like everything corrupt in the world molded into something as beautiful and holy. The world didn't deserve him, not even a bit.

"Me and Rantaro-san are not in a relationship. It happened to be a slip-on up caused by my own tougue. Do not cause this much a commotion in this gathering or else I'll have you fired." He sat down again and handed Rantaro the box. When he had hoped for a wedding ring, he got something more thoughtful.

It was a custom made bracelet with pictures from past work events on little gems, evenly spaced throughout. The lettering on the middles of the gems was small but easy to pick up the message.

"Forever, it says?" He questioned Kiyo.

"Precisely. You've worked in this conglomerate for 5 years now, though, it feels like I've known you for the majority of my life. It was based more on a self evaluation though. Apologies if you don't feel the same." He turned away but Rantaro stopped him.

"You always seem so down when you give me presents. You're presents so far have touched the bottom of my heart with the thought put into them. Even if yuo buy me a box of pizza, I know you thought about if I'll enjoy it or not. So yes Kiyo, I do feel the same." He placed it back in the box and into his pocket. What a monologue.

"I'm glad you do. Have a good evening, Amami-san." 'Just call me Rantaro.' He thought.

"See ya, Kiyo-san." He departed in a victorious stride home.

Though, that wasn't the best he could do. No, not even close.