Silence is Golden

Ignorance is Bliss

A QUICK Author's Note:

Please stick around and read this. I'm hoping to get a lot of this written since it's for the NanoWrimo write a novel in a month thing (imma do fanfiction, who cares) Anyway, I so hope that you like every little hint that I tie in because I already know what's gonna happen which is odd for me. The title of this story I love since it's actually kinda sad and verbally ironic I guess? I dunno. Please continue till the end!~ <3 Thank you.

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A light humming filled the otherwise empty air of the large, upscale maisonette. Misaki Takahashi, vacuum in hand, patrolled the living area in search of any mess that his landlord had left behind. Be it books, dirty dishes, half finished--and sometimes even the completed ones-- a sea of papers and their writing counterparts, or even the man himself, Misaki was constantly tailing behind the author and cleaning up his mess. Usami Akihiko was otherwise painfully unaware, or thought that Misaki's struggles to keep the house clean were irrelevant, because despite all the times that the boy had told him to at least do his own laundry, the man still couldn't tell the difference between bleach and normal laundry detergent.

Clicking off the vacuum and putting it back in it's rightful location, Misaki headed to the kitchen to start breakfast. Pulling his navy blue apron to his chest and tying it in the back, he put his hair into a small pony and preheated the stove. After greasing the pan so the eggs wouldn't stick, he set it on the heat, and opened the fridge. Suddenly, the high pitched ringing of the phone pulled him out of his mindlessness. Flipping off the burner, he wiped his hands on the apron and went to answer it.
"Hello, this is Misaki Takahashi."

"Misaki?" The voice on the other end of the phone was one that was very familiar to him.

"Oh, hey! Nii-chan, what do you need?" His brother, Takahiro, was often very busy with work, as well as raising his young son, so there weren't many opportunities for the man to visit the Usami household, nor his younger brother.

"I needed to ask Akihiko about something. Is he there?" Takahiro's voice had a giddy undertone about it, but Misaki ignored it, suddenly remembering that the author was still in bed.

"Ah, Nii-chan, sorry. He's still asleep right now."

"Asleep? At this time of day? It's already past noon!" Misaki chuckled slightly at how little his brother truly knew about his friend's sleeping habits.

"Well, I'll just call back later then, when he gets up. Tell him I called?"

"Uhh, wait. Actually I need to wake him up anyway, so hang on a sec, and I'll get him for you." Misaki placed down the receiver on the table next to it's base and walked across the large room to the man's bedroom. With two quiet knocks, he cracked open the door.

"Oi, Usagi-san," He said softly. "Takahiro's on the phone." The room stayed deadly silent, the lump of a blanket not stirring in the slightest.

"Oi," Misaki said slightly louder this time. A low grumble came from within the darkness.

"Usagi-san, get up." Still the man made no move to rouse himself.

"Come on, you're being rude! Go answer the phone." Stepping into the discombobulated mess of a room, children's toys scattered about the space and playful banners hanging from the ceiling, Misaki approached the bed and pulled off his covers. Usami groaned.

"I told you, get up! Nii-chan is still on the phone waiting for you!" Tossing the blanket to the side, Misaki shook the author vigorously.

"Ehermm," Came the mumbled reply. "I'm tired. Go away." The lazy silver haired man grabbed his pillow and stuffed his head underneath it. Misaki frowned.