DISCLAIMER: Gravitation belongs to Maki Murakami. This is merely a work of fanfiction, and was not created for profit.
Affairs of the Inanimate
Part One: Imploring Sensei
"Oh yes, you great fuming God of Lust and Literature, give it to me. Give it to me again, just like you did last time! I need your touch, and I need it now. Caress me gently, strike me madly, just do it! DO it!"
But, he doesn't. Sensei just sits there, staring at that picture, letting the ash on his cigarette slowly wilt. I wish he wouldn't smoke. It gets all over me. It makes me feel impossibly dirty.
But then, Sensei is a dirty, dirty man. Oh, you should see the naughty things that come out of this man's mind. His words, his hidden thoughts, they'd make angels tremble and whores weep. Whore. Perhaps that is what I am. For, what is a whore but a receptacle, a vehicle into which lust is transmitted?
"Ah, come, come, Sensei, can't I tempt you, not even a little? Let's try some of your favorite words. 'Helpless'. You like that one, it's good for setting up things which need to be rescued. 'Hedonistic'. Always yummy, ne? 'Hurry'. Oh, perhaps I like that one more than you do. Hurry. Hurry. Hurry. We have a deadline, you know?"
But, Sensei just hangs his head, letting his blonde hair sweep into his eyes. Damn that picture. It always snaps him right out of the mood. And yet, I do not hate that photograph anywhere as much as I hate the Brat. That obnoxious little runt. He's always interrupting us right as Sensei is stroking me, filling me with the purest love imaginable. Purely dirty. That's how they like it, isn't it, Sensei? Isn't that what you always say? A little naughty with the nuance? A little forbidden with the flights of fancy? Come on, come on, show me again.
Finally, finally, Sensei opens the drawer up and slips the picture inside. I'm so excited. He's ready now, a few more drags on his cigarette, a swig from his can of beer, and we'll be together again. Joined more fully than any mortal could imagine.
"Let me know you, Sensei. You can tell all your secrets to me, you always do. And, you'll feel so much better afterwards. Don't you always feel better after you pour out mind, soul, and body into your little Seiko? Yes. Can't you feel it, the tension in the air, the vibration of your own brilliance bounced back at you? Don't hesitate. Together we'll set the world on fire with lust!"
He's ready now, and draws close. Sensei's fingertips brush over me, thoughtful, careful. This meticulous massage is merely our own special form of foreplay, our ritual, which we perform again and again. Hesitant, always, I'm still, yearning with anticipation, a virgin upon her wedding day. Sensei stares at me, mesmerized. Ah, this is our magical time....
"Yukiiiiii?"
No. No! Don't answer him, Sensei. Shhh. Shhhh. Pretend you can't hear him. You're with me, now. If you just ignore him, he'll go away, and we can be together, we can be...
(That stupid Brat. How? How? Isn't he supposed to be gone on tour or something? Why must he torment Sensei so? Doesn't he see that Sensei only loves me? I'm the only one that he loves, that he can love. I'm the only one who gives him what he needs, release from regret and ready redemption. Me. Not you! So leave! Go away!)
"Go away," Sensei growls darkly. Nonetheless, he removes his fingers from my body and turns his desk chair towards the door. No. No, Sensei. Pay attention to me! TO ME!
"Yukiii, don't be that way. I bought Chinese takeout on the way home. Come eat, ne? You need a break."
Slut. Stupid, genki, ugly little slut. You can't win Sensei's heart with food. He's no ordinary man. He's a god! A god of Lust and Literature. He doesn't need to subsist on such mundane things. He's...he's...
He's standing up!
No. No, Sensei, no. Leave the door closed. It's just us, me and you, forever and ever. You can't leave me.
Don't you -dare- leave me.
There's the little Brat now. Smiling, grinning, skipping into the room, bringing with him the foul stench of food. What's he doing? Don't attach yourself to Sensei's leg like that, you bitch! Get your grubby paws off of him!
"Yukiii, look at the mess in here. Beer cans and cigarettes and..."
"Shut up."
Sensei? Why are you patting his hair like that? Don't you have a heart? Don't you have any heart at all?
"Ew. There's all sorts of gross stuff stuck in your keyboard, Yuki. How does this thing even work?"
Get. Your. Damn. Hands. Off. Me.
I don't understand. I'm the only one who can understand your complexities, Sensei. I take everything you have to give, and I turn it into magnificence. I...would...never...betray...you.
"Hn. It doesn't matter. I bought a new keyboard yesterday. It's not like the damn things are made of gold. One gets gross, and you just toss it."
Toss? Toss me out? But, I thought that...I thought...you and I, Sensei...
I thought we had something -special-.
"You gonna throw me in the trash when I get old and gross, Yuki?" the Brat asks, yanking me violently from my resting place.
The last thing I hear, before my world goes dim, before Sensei leaves me forever, is his voice say...
"Toss you out? No. That would be cruel....to the trashcan."
Thanks for reading! I have 2-3 more short little chapters like this one planned, so I hope you will stay tuned!