I've been wanting to write this all day, but I can't seem to put it into a fic. Until now obviously. And Mark's name is a WIP name. It's not his set name. Akasuki's on the other hand, is. So is the title. Because right now? FUCKING LAME.

Title: Rokku No Hime
Fandom: None ATM. Might be some Nana/PanicAtTheDisco later on
Rating: K+
Warnings: Stuff. You pick it out and tell me, I'm too lazy to think of it now.
Summary: Home is always the way you imagine in. Roomies aren't.

Akasuki Arakaki had hoped that when she saw her new apartment, that she’d be a little relieved. Instead, she walked in, set her bags down, looked around, and cried out in fear.

Mark Kennedy hated women. They were good for sex every once in a while, but in general they were the naggiest creatures on earth. Akasuki was just an acceptation; and a very small one at that. “What’s wrong with it Akasuki?”

She bent over, sliding her finger across the wooden floor board before examining her finger, “Filthy! It’s filthy!” Flailing her hands, looking like she was attempting to fly, she reached into her suitcase quickly pulling out a pair of slippers and putting them on.

Mark simply plopped down on the couch, “I don’t remember you being this stingy before. Are all Japanese girls this obsessed about cleanliness? If so, remind me not to marry one.” He rest his leg on the side of the couch as he flipped through the channels on the television.

“No proper Japanese girl would ever want to marry you anyways.” Akasuki spat out angrily, as she threw Mark a glare unseen by him. But she wasn’t really mad at him, no matter how ignorant he acted she could never truly be mad at him. Their relationship was deeper than that.

But he still ignored her comment like he usually did, “Your bedroom’s the one on the right. Mine’s on the left. Bathroom’s in the middle. Go to sleep. It’ll help you get over your jet lag. That and we have practice at noon tomorrow.” He flung bits of cheese powder as he pointed to rooms. Akasuki shuttered.

She walked over to the door, debating whether to pull a handkerchief so her hand wouldn’t touch the filthy doorknob. She decided against it. Pushing the door open, nothing surprised her, nothing stood out to her.

It was a simple room. There was a simple wooden desk with a simple wooden chair next to the window. A bed of a bed frame and 2 mattresses pushed against the wall with a nightstand next to it. But there was one thing that was out of place.

A plain black lamp stood on the night stand, bragging about its ability to light a room. Akasuki took no hesitation to unplug the thing and put it on the coffee table separating the television and the couch.

Mark looked at her for a moment, “What’s wrong with the lamp? If it’s the bulb you can fix that yourself.” He pushed the lamp away from his view of the television screen with his foot.

Akasuki shook her head, “There’s nothing wrong with the lamp. It’s very nice to be honest, but I don’t do lights. It reminds me of the stage. I really hate to think about that place if I can help it.” She emphasized the word really.

The amount of seriousness in her tone caused Mark to hide a chuckle. These were the reasons that he liked Akasuki so much. She had always been a spoiled brat in his eyes, but these were the little things that stood out. The way that she hated the stage, yet she aimed for fame again. The way that she despised being single, yet hating the idea of love all together.

“Go to bed Princess!” He let out his chuckle at that. The nickname that Akasuki hated more than anything in the world was the nickname he would always call her by. He watched as she opened the door wide enough for her to fit her hand through. Simply to give him the middle finger.

It was nearly 1 am when he finally decided to go to bed. He had been too comfortable on the couch previously, hating the idea of getting up. As he was undressing, a song began to play. He had no idea where it was coming from, but it was a sweet melody.

It stopped abruptly, followed by a groggy, “Moshi moshi? Arakaki desu.” Then he realized that it was Akasuki’s cell phone. There was a short pause before he could hear Akasuki getting up suddenly, the bed frame making a loud creaking sound.

Mark listened to her conversation in vain. He only heard half of the conversation, through a door. And from a girl who was speaking rapid and fluent Japanese. He spent 5 minutes trying to understand what they were talking about, which roughly consisted of Akasuki’s plane ride and to his dismay, him.

But Akasuki wasn’t insulting him because he understood nearly every swear word in Japanese. The fact that, no matter how annoyed she got with him, she still was able to talk nicely about him soothed him.

And that night, he fell asleep to the comforting sound of Akasuki’s rapid Japanese.

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For those who DON’T speak Japanese at all, her answer to the phone was basically, “Hello? It’s Arakaki.” -Because in Japanese, you call somebody by their last name unless given permission otherwise.-

Rokku No Hime means Princess Of Rock. The title'll make more sense later. A lot more sense later.