Well, this isn’t another fic that could fit under Reflections, so I hope you like it!

Also, I don’t know why, but I just have a feeling that Ash and Eiji would pass Saturdays together. It just strikes me as something they would do, kind of like an unspoken rule. You know what I mean?

Oh and this is an Eiji/Ash POV switch off. Eiji’s POV comes first, then there will be a *** and it’ll be in Ash’s POV. Same scene, two different POV’s. Got it?

Good.

I own nothing!

Uozumi

"Oh, good morning, Eiji; how’s everything at the apartment? You boys putting up?"

I blink from where I’m studying the various kinds of soups, then smile at our neighbor from across the way and a door down, "We’re fine, Mrs. Coleman, how are you?"

"We’re just – Ryan! How many times must I tell you that this is not a play ground!" Mrs. Coleman whaps her son’s hand, then turns back to me, "Now, I was thinking that if you and the boys wouldn’t mind, I bet you don’t get a home-cooked mea –"

"Ryan!" before she can finish the word, I catch Ryan as he slips from the third shelf. The boy is barely four, and is a bundle of energy.

"Ryan!" she gives him a spank on the rear, "You could have died!" then she turns to me, worry and relief on her features, "Oh, thank you, Eiji."

"No problem," I smile, ‘<demo, keep an eye on your kid!>’ "I have to finish up, I shall see you around," and then I walk off to slip away especially since I can see the gossipy "talk-your-ear-off" Mrs. Owen coming our way.

I wonder what Ash would say if he knew that I know all the housewives in the building personally, and have babysat for a few involuntarily.

Walking down the street, I note that I should put out our noncombustible in a few hours since it’s ten already and the garbage truck comes at two. Reaching our apartment door, I sigh, taking my key out, then freeze as soft footsteps meet my ears. Turning to look to my right, I meet a pair of emerald eyes, both of us watching the other as though neither of us can believe the other is here.

Silently, I unlock the door, moving into the apartment, Ash following, catching the door I had tried to slam in his face. At our intense, but silent emotions that fill the apartment, Bones and Kong look up, then make for another room. They probably don’t want to watch a repeat of Thursday or Wednesday, whatever day it was.

Quietly, I go about my business, restocking the kitchen, knowing that Ash is leaning against the counter, studying me, or at least watching. At such a feeling, most people would blush, but I’m too mad to. I haven’t gotten over the words we exchanged, so as I move knowing that he’s watching me, I feel all color drain from my cheeks, a cool detachment settling over me.

"Eiji –"

"I’m still mad."

The aura of the kitchen feels like our words hit a wall that is divided by the counter. He’s leaning on it so he’s not in the kitchen, and I’m busy restocking the fridge, an air-made wall between us caused by our different reactions. I could almost see it as though it was an anime or something like that.

We fall into silence again, and I rise, flattening the bags to save to use for combustible garbage on Tuesday. I always have to think of things like that, I’ve been delineated to do it ever since I was confined here. I hate it, but I understand it, yet I don’t understand it at the same time.

"I know that I might seem younger than I am, I know that at times I do act foolish, but," I look over my shoulder at him, "I don’t like it when you can’t tell me why we’re doing what we’re doing. A simple, ‘To protect you,’ or ‘You’re just in the way,’ or whatever else you can think up doesn’t work." I hold his gaze, then begin making tea. I know that it’s a little later than we would normally take it, but I don’t care. Typically our Saturday starts with whomever wakes first (usually me), and they make tea or breakfast, or something that will inevitably wake the other, and then the other usually wakes, and we spend the morning together in each other’s company, and then usually do something in the afternoon, but still I am not allowed within a certain area of the apartment.

That’s what I was trying to tell him on Thursday, but he wouldn’t listen, and we just started shouting at each other. It was a really bad argument too, nothing like any other we’ve ever had. It wound up with me striking him, and I bet he would have hit me back if I hadn’t ducked into and locked the door of our room just in time. Then he left, and finally he’s decided to grace me with his presence again. I’m still mad, and I’m not sure if it’s the original reason anymore, or if it’s just the fact that he hasn’t been home since then.

"I told you –"

"Level with me," I turn away from the kettle, "what is going on?"

He makes a helpless noise that shows he’s trying to apologize, but I keep upping the level of apology that he has to make. I don’t mean to do it, but, goddammit, I want to know what the hell is going on here!

"You know what’s going on," he sighs, "You’re making a big deal out of nothing."

I bristle, "‘Nothing?’ ‘Nothing?!’ I am not making a ‘big deal’ out of ‘nothing,’ I am making a ‘big deal’ out of the fact that this is to ensure my life, but if I’m going insane, how is that helping?!"

He meets my eyes, a tired, almost dead look on his. I know that mine are burning with frustration, but I know I looked like that not too long ago. It takes so much energy when we argue, but I can’t help that I’m still mad. I lose my reason when I’m angry, which is why I’m being so obstinate. I don’t like it, but I can’t stop being mad.

"It’s helping keep you alive, Ei-chan."

I freeze, the kettle beginning to shake behind me as it warms up for its whistle. I just stare a moment, the nickname taking me off guard. I know he probably doesn’t really know what the ‘- chan’ suffix means, but still…just hearing it from him has taken my temper away, and I don’t feel mad anymore.

He smirks amusedly, the thick, tense, incensed aura dissipating quickly, "The kettle’s whistling."

I start, then turn around, realizing that it’s screeching to high hell. "Ack! Sorry!" then I take it off and place a few cups on the counter near him, "I could only get Lipton, is that okay?"

"Tea is tea," he shrugs, then makes this odd nose crinkle he always does whenever we share tea. I’ve never probed about it, and decide not to. We just finished arguing and have our Saturday back. Who wants to destroy that now?

My cheek still stings. I will admit that if he hadn’t closed the door, I would have hit him back I was so mad. It had started out a simple conversation, just him and me over a couple of cans of booze, then he started demanding why he’s been kept locked away, and telling me how he hated it…

My mind gets a little fuzzy after that up until he hit me, and that makes me apprehensive. Did I do something I shouldn’t have? Or, were we just shouting again? I got out of the apartment as fast as I could, threatening bodily harm to Bones and Kong if they let Eiji hurt himself or some such nonsense like that.

As I said, I don’t really remember.

Shorter once said that not remembering things wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but running away from them was. Once I had gotten out on the street I felt like shit, and really wished I hadn’t yelled at Eiji, but I figured that since he’s one to carry grudges and stay mad for a long time, it would be best if I just disappeared and laid low for a few days.

So here it is, about thirty-four hours since I took off on early Friday morning, and I’m heading back sooner than planed. I was thinking that I’d go and scout a few things underground for about three days like I’ve been planning to do, but here I am walking up the stairs to our apartment for god knows what reason.

Hearing a jingle of keys, I glance up, then meet Eiji’s face, which quickly turns into disgust. He’s still not over it, and here I am to make a fool of myself as I catch the door before it can slam me in the nose.

Following him inside, I barely notice Bones and Kong skulk off, and just follow Eiji, leaning against the counter as I watch him move about the kitchen. We’ve been through so much in the little over seven months we’ve been together, but sometimes I can slightly forget the danger, slightly forget the world around me, and just watch him and pretend. That’s what our Saturday mornings are about – hell, that’s what our Saturdays are about, so I guess that’s why I’m here. It’s Saturday morning, and I’ve already missed most of it for being an idiot and staying out after an argument.

"Eiji –"

"I’m still mad."

His voice is laden with bitterness, a quick glare shot at me before he continues to unpack his groceries, which I finally notice are there. Sometimes I just sit back and watch him. I don’t know if it’s the fucked up childhood I’ve experienced or what, but sometimes I just watch Eiji, how he moves, how he speaks, what hands he uses to do what, how he does it…I just watch.

Suddenly he turns his head as the kettle begins to boil, so he can look me in the eyes, "I know that I might seem younger than I am, I know that at times I do act foolish, but I don’t like it when you can’t tell me why we’re doing what we’re doing. A simple, ‘To protect you,’ or ‘You’re just in the way,’ or whatever else you can think up doesn’t work."

Yet another version of the same argument. I’m beginning to hate this, I really am. I wonder what he would say if I told him, "I’m getting you on a plane with Ibé on November first."

Somehow, I don’t think that would be a good thing right now, so I try to rephrase whatever I had to have said last night since he’s rephrasing his.

"I told you –"

"Level with me," he narrows his eyes, "what is going on?"

Dammit! Why is it that Eiji has some weird power that keeps me from untangling my thoughts. It seems that whenever we come to a point like this at any time, my mind goes blank, or it gets so jumbled, I don’t know what planet I’m even on!

"You know what’s going on," I give him a general answer, "You’re making a big deal out of nothing."

Oh god, he just took it as an insult. I am not going to come out of this one alive!

"‘Nothing?’ ‘Nothing?!’" he revs up. I know this sounds like I don’t respect him, but I do, it’s just he can really fly off the handle if I’m not careful, and obviously today I’m not. "I am not making a ‘big deal’ out of ‘nothing,’ I am making a ‘big deal’ out of the fact that this is to ensure my life, but if I’m going insane, how is that helping?!"

I meet his eyes, searching for what I can say to calm him down. How can I tell him that I’m sorry? He’s so far gone that he gets defensive about every half word that comes out of my mouth. What can I do? What can I say?

Sighing, I meet his eyes, and let the first thing come out without even pausing to consider what it is or what the ramifications of the statement, question, or whatever, will be.

"It’s helping keep you alive, Ei-chan."

All the steam in him has gone out with the preliminary whistle of the teapot. He just stares at me, and I know he’s blanking, either that or doing some serious thinking. Smirking, I lazily indicate the screaming object behind him, "The kettle’s whistling."

He blinks, then does a visible, almost cartoonish jump in the air, and spins around, sputtering apologies as the kettle’s whistle gets louder, "Ack! Sorry!"

After he removes it, he retrieves two cups from one of the cabinets, then brings all of it over to where I’m leaning against the counter, so I’m on one side of it and he’s on the other.

"I could only get Lipton, is that okay?" he’s already pouring the water into cups with teabags in them.

"Tea is tea," I shrug, debating whether or not to tell him that I loathe tea.

Oh well, who cares? We just finished arguing and have our Saturday back. Who wants to destroy that now?