Categories > Anime/Manga > Yu Yu Hakusho > Classified Chop Suey
For Yusuke, each tournament is like making his bed: he only does it to be neat and because Keiko nags him to. It was his idea, and he should carry it out, she says. And it gives him an excuse to brawl, so why is he complaining?
For her information, it wasn't his idea to wear a freaking suit to the opening ceremonies. That was all her, thank you very much. It's boiling outside, too.
She fixes his tie and thinks to herself only Yusuke would need his girlfriend to teach him how to tie a tie. Only Yusuke would continue this "election" for years and years without complaining to anyone but her.
She thinks he's getting tired of it, but do demons really get tired? His eyes are still fresh, his skin still smooth, and he looks as vibrant as a feral beast in her withered eyes.
He thinks his tie is straighter than an arrow now, and she can stop touching it. Before he can make a juvenile Freudian remark, she fixes his hair. He still refuses to use conditioner, and yet never gets split ends.
She's not his mom, he says.
No, Atsuko is long gone now. But Keiko, who has always been his home, is now more of a mother to him than a lover. She insists on separate beds in their home, in order to be closer to the children in case anything went wrong, which was absolutely ridiculous because if anything went wrong, he would be the first to know, and what could she do anyway? Then the children grew and left, and he couldn't bring himself to ask her about coming back, because she had made a habit of coming into his room after dinner, where they would watch the news, or she would read a book, or they would talk, and maybe, every so often, make love. Then she would get up and sleep in her room. Anything more than a gentle kiss became rare after she turned thirty-five, still beautiful and desirable to him, when they were brushing their teeth in the bathroom. She looked up and compared their reflections and wondered aloud if her teeth were yellowing.
When he turned fifty-five, he had her pinned beneath him when she outright refused. She was tired. He said it didn't matter, since he was going to do all the work anyway. She was ugly. It didn't matter, because he was going to turn off the lights. She gave in, and afterwards, she went downstairs to the kitchen to cry.
"Yusuke."
He meets her eyes.
"Don't lose."
He kisses her before she can leave.
For her information, it wasn't his idea to wear a freaking suit to the opening ceremonies. That was all her, thank you very much. It's boiling outside, too.
She fixes his tie and thinks to herself only Yusuke would need his girlfriend to teach him how to tie a tie. Only Yusuke would continue this "election" for years and years without complaining to anyone but her.
She thinks he's getting tired of it, but do demons really get tired? His eyes are still fresh, his skin still smooth, and he looks as vibrant as a feral beast in her withered eyes.
He thinks his tie is straighter than an arrow now, and she can stop touching it. Before he can make a juvenile Freudian remark, she fixes his hair. He still refuses to use conditioner, and yet never gets split ends.
She's not his mom, he says.
No, Atsuko is long gone now. But Keiko, who has always been his home, is now more of a mother to him than a lover. She insists on separate beds in their home, in order to be closer to the children in case anything went wrong, which was absolutely ridiculous because if anything went wrong, he would be the first to know, and what could she do anyway? Then the children grew and left, and he couldn't bring himself to ask her about coming back, because she had made a habit of coming into his room after dinner, where they would watch the news, or she would read a book, or they would talk, and maybe, every so often, make love. Then she would get up and sleep in her room. Anything more than a gentle kiss became rare after she turned thirty-five, still beautiful and desirable to him, when they were brushing their teeth in the bathroom. She looked up and compared their reflections and wondered aloud if her teeth were yellowing.
When he turned fifty-five, he had her pinned beneath him when she outright refused. She was tired. He said it didn't matter, since he was going to do all the work anyway. She was ugly. It didn't matter, because he was going to turn off the lights. She gave in, and afterwards, she went downstairs to the kitchen to cry.
"Yusuke."
He meets her eyes.
"Don't lose."
He kisses her before she can leave.
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