Work Text:
Title: Little Bit Brighter
Author: Triste
Fandom: Magi
Pairing: Kouha/Alibaba
Warnings: Modern day AU
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
Disclaimer: Not mine
Part 3 of the Alibaba is everyone's waifu series, this time featuring Kouha! Kougyoku will get her turn in the next fic. <3
~~
Small.
That’s the only word Kouha can use to describe Alibaba’s apartment.
Actually, no, it’s worse than that. Compared to Kouha’s usual living standards, it’s *tiny*.
There’s a living room connected to the kitchen, if Kouha can even call it one, a bedroom and a bathroom.
That’s it.
How on earth do people live like this, Kouha wonders as Alibaba takes his bags, and more importantly, how is he going to get through the next week together in this cramped space with someone he doesn’t particularly care that much about?
Kouha has never understood what his brothers see in Alibaba. Then again, it’s not like he and Alibaba have ever spent much time with each other before, so Kouha doesn’t know much about him really, but from what little he has seen is enough for Kouha to come to the conclusion that he’d rather hang out with someone else.
Alibaba seems oblivious to his lack of enthusiasm, but he’s oblivious to pretty much everything anyway, so Kouha isn’t going to bother pretending that he’s pleased with this arrangement.
“Well, just make yourself at home while you’re here,” Alibaba says, holding out his right hand with a smile. “Let’s get along, Kouha.”
Kouha shakes it gingerly, returning Alibaba’s smile with a frown. “Don’t be so familiar with me when we hardly know each other,” he warns. “Where are your manners? You address my brothers properly, don’t you?”
“But we’re the same age,” Alibaba points out. “I thought we could just talk to each other normally and stuff.”
“Even so,” Kouha presses, lower lip pursed slightly, “if you’re going to use –san for En-nii and Mei-nii, at least use it for me as well, otherwise it’ll be like I’m the only one who’s being left out.”
Alibaba blinks in surprise, but then he gets an annoying smirk on his face as he sidles up to Kouha and pokes his shoulder patronisingly. “Oho? What’s this? Could it be that you’re feeling lonely? Do you want me to give you a hug and make it all better?”
“Stop touching me, stupid!” Kouha says, smacking Alibaba’s hand away and turning his back on him with a huff. “Just stay away from me, you loser.”
It’s difficult to avoid his new roommate in such confined quarters though, not that Kouha doesn’t try. Once he’s finished unpacking, he locks himself in the bathroom for the next hour and a half in an attempt to soak his troubles away.
When that doesn’t work, he spends the rest of the evening glued to his cell phone and spamming anyone who will bother to reply to complain about his predicament.
It doesn’t take long for Judar to get bored of conversing with him via text message, and Kouen’s ‘you’ll survive’ response is typically short and to the point. Koumei indulges him for a while, but even he eventually gets fed up with Kouha’s whining and stops returning his messages.
Posting a few selfies on his Twitter account to illustrate his week of ‘slumming it with the commoners’ doesn’t pass as much time as Kouha hopes either, so he tries the final resort of actually interacting with Alibaba.
“What are you doing?” he asks, eyeing the pile of open books by Alibaba’s side as he flips through them, pausing every once in a while to highlight sentences or scribble something down.
“I’ve got a paper due soon,” Alibaba replies absently, “so I just need to finish making these notes before I bash the whole thing out at the library later this week.”
Oh, that’s right. He’s a college student.
Kouha lifts the cover of the book nearest to him with a disinterested “hmm”. It’s got something to do with economics, if the overly complicated looking graphs are anything to go by.
Koumei is forever getting onto his case about going to college, but unlike both his older brothers, Kouha has never been academically inclined. He’s happy to simply coast through life until he figures out what he wants to do with it.
Alibaba raises his gaze suddenly, looking guilty. “Sorry, this must be pretty dull for you. I don’t have much here to keep guests entertained, but if you want we can go over to Aladdin’s place and play video games. We could invite Morgiana too. Or maybe not,” he adds, grimacing a little. “She tends to get kind of intense where Mario Kart is involved.”
“It’s fine,” Kouha says, waving him away. “You’ve got a deadline coming up, right? Worry about that, not me.”
But Alibaba still seems concerned. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Kouha says, now feeling slightly irritated, “I’m sure. Now quit mothering me, jeez.”
~~
The next day when he wakes up, Kouha is initially disorientated.
This isn’t his room, he thinks, groggy and confused. This isn’t his bed, either. The sheets are plain white cotton, not the familiar red silk Kouha is used to seeing upon opening his eyes first thing in a morning.
Did he fall asleep in a cupboard or something? Where is he, anyway?
Then he picks up the smell of food coming from outside the door, and his stomach grumbles.
Kouha follows his nose, which leads him the short distance into the living room, where Alibaba greets him with a smile and a cheery “good morning!”
“’Morning,” Kouha mumbles back, still on autopilot.
“Sit down,” Alibaba says. “I’m almost done with breakfast.”
Breakfast? That sounds good.
Kouha’s stomach grumbles again, and Alibaba laughs. He’s wearing a hideous orange apron with a yellow duck and the word AHIRU printed on the front. Kouha thinks he can vaguely remember Kouen buying something similar once. Or maybe it was the same apron that Alibaba has on.
A present?
Whatever. It’s too early to be using his brain.
He hasn’t even finished his meal when Alibaba clears his things away and makes his way over to the front door.
“I left you a boxed lunch on the counter,” he calls over his shoulder, crouching down in the entranceway to tie the laces on his sneakers. “Just leave your dishes in the sink when you’re done. I’ll take care of them later.”
Kouha nods sleepily. “Where are you going?”
“Work,” Alibaba says. “I don’t have any lectures today either, so I should be back by four. There’s a spare key in the drawer by stove. Use that to lock up, if you feel like going out someplace.”
And with a quick “see you later!” he’s off.
He works? Where? Kouha has no idea. He himself has never had a job in his life.
Maybe that’s what his brothers see in Alibaba. They probably treat him like one of those ‘sponsor a starving child in Africa to feel good about yourself’ adverts, only it’s more like ‘sponsor a starving peasant in your own country’ kind of thing.
For a poor person though, Alibaba doesn’t seem to be struggling that much. Okay, his entire apartment is less than half the size of Kouha’s walk in wardrobe, but it’s neat and it’s tidy, and it’s not dirty and run down like all the poor people’s houses Kouha has seen on TV.
Is he really a college student? No, forget that – is he really a guy? Guys don’t live like this. Guys aren’t supposed to be this clean. The only reason Kouha’s room is so immaculate is because he has maids to do everything for him.
Now that Alibaba isn’t home, Kouha takes the opportunity to do some snooping.
He doesn’t find anything too exciting, although he does come across some badly hidden porn – Alibaba is normal in that respect, at least – but apart from that, it’s just books, books and more books.
There are photos, too, which strikes Kouha as odd, because who puts up *actual* pictures these days, when nearly everyone uses smartphones? But he inspects them anyway, because what the hell, it’s not like he has anything better to do.
Some of them are more recent, and feature people he knows. There’s Aladdin and Morgiana, Kougyoku and Hakuryuu, Sinbad posing for a selfie and winking rakishly at the camera while Ja’far glares daggers at him in the background, a bunch of other people with red hair that somewhat resemble Morgiana in appearance, but none of Kouha’s brothers, which makes him feel offended on their behalf.
Maybe he’ll print one out later and stick it in the centre as pride of place.
The other photos are older, and have people Kouha doesn’t recognise, like the guy with dreadlocks piggybacking what appears to be his little sister, and one of Alibaba as a kid. He’s hugging a pretty woman who has the exact same smile as he does, both of them making a peace sign.
It’s got to be his mother. Alibaba looks just like her.
The same woman appears again in another photo, this time with a tall, blond man – Alibaba’s father, Kouha assumes, if their matching hair colours are anything to go by – looking, well, ‘lovey-dovey’ as Kougyoku would call it.
Kouha doesn’t know what it’s like to have lovey-dovey parents. He doesn’t even know what it’s like to have friends.
Whatever. He has his brothers, who he loves more than anyone else in the whole wide world, and Kougyoku is kind of cool too, as is Judar when he’s not doing his wandering stray cat thing.
Why is it, Kouha wonders, that Alibaba’s world seems so much bigger compared to his?
He decides not to think about it anymore, and eat his lunch instead.
It’s wrapped in pink polka dot cloth and, when Kouha lifts the lid, contains what looks like something a mom – or maybe a wife – would make.
That settles it. Alibaba is officially weird.
(But the lunch tastes good, and Kouha doesn’t let any of it go to waste.)
~~
Three days later and Kouha gradually finds himself warming up to his host, not that he’d ever admit it.
It’s because he’s bored and just wants company, he tells himself as he asks Alibaba to come shopping with him, and Alibaba agrees, but only after calling his manager first to swap shifts (which he sure seems to work a lot of for some reason).
New clothes are what Kouha is after, and of course, only the most expensive ones will do. Alibaba trails after him looking lost and a little scared, like it’s the first time he’s ever seen anyone spend so much money in one afternoon, and it’s funny to see the way he gawks when Kouha whips out his credit card, as if he never knew they existed until now.
He’s nice enough to carry Kouha’s many bags for him afterwards, although he still can’t seem to believe the cost of what he’s holding.
“This is more than I’d earn in a whole year,” he says, voice awed. “Or heck, maybe two. Possibly three, I dunno.”
“Really?” Kouha narrows his eyes. “That can’t be right. Your boss isn’t cheating you out of your wages, is he? If he is, I can send some heavies over to... *have a word*, shall we say.”
“What?” Alibaba shakes his head frantically. “No, it’s nothing like that. I work in a coffee shop, jeez. We’re hardly going to get paid a king’s ransom for serving people drinks.”
“How much do you actually earn?”
Alibaba tries to explain things like hourly rates and minimum wage, but it all goes right over Kouha’s head.
“How is that even possible? How do you actually manage to exist?”
It really is like they’re living in completely different worlds. Kouha can’t imagine what it would be like to not come from a wealthy background.
He gets another taste of reality when Alibaba asks to call in at the supermarket on their way home.
It’s the first time Kouha has ever been in a supermarket. His family has always had other people to buy and prepare their meals.
It’s Alibaba’s turn to look at Kouha like he’s the one who’s from another planet when he hears that.
“But you earn next to nothing,” Kouha says, trying to get his mind around the whole poverty deal. “How can you afford to buy stuff?”
“You pick up all the best bargains,” Alibaba says. “Sometimes you have to battle old ladies for them, and they always fight dirty.”
Kouha’s jaw drops. “You duke it out with the neighbourhood grannies?”
Poor people have it rougher than he thought.
“And I use coupons,” Alibaba continues, showing off his impressive collection. “See?”
“That’s...” sad, Kouha wants to say, but he smiles weakly and says instead, “great.”
“I know, right?” Alibaba leans in to whisper in Kouha’s ear. “To tell you the truth, I actually splurged a little when Koumei-san asked if you could spent the week at my place. I don’t usually buy groceries at full price if I can help it, but I wanted to make something nice for you to eat, so I figured, why not, let’s go crazy. That’s why I had to pick up extra shifts at work, to pay for it all. Oh,” he adds, “and you know the box I put your lunch in? I bought that especially, just for you.”
Then he smiles, almost sparkling practically, like he’s really pleased with himself, but Kouha just grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him in disbelief.
“Are you stupid?! No, wait. I *know* you’re an idiot.” Kouha’s voice starts to rise in frustration. “You need to think more about yourself instead of other people, dumbass! What if you get into debt? I’ve seen these movies, damn it, where stupid poor people borrow money from loan sharks and then they lose everything – their homes, their jobs, their wives and kids... Seriously, why? Why would you even *do* all of this?”
“Because you’re my guest,” Alibaba says, somewhat taken-aback by Kouha’s outburst. “And,” he adds, smiling another one of his stupid, sparkly smiles, “because I wanted to do something nice for you.”
Kouha’s face feels like it’s burning up, and he smacks Alibaba on the arm. “I never asked you to, stupid! God, you’re such a moron. Here, give me those.” He snatches the bags away from Alibaba, along with the groceries. “I’ll carry them back. And I’ll make dinner tonight, so just shut up and stop being so... so... so *stupid*.”
“Do you even know now to cook?” Alibaba says.
“What do you think YouTube is for? Just you wait. The great Kouha-sama will make you a meal so wonderful, it’ll bring you to tears.”
It makes Alibaba cry alright, but only because the curry Kouha makes is so terrible, but he smiles through his tears and says how happy he is, and Kouha pretends he’s not blushing because why would anyone be happy just because someone tried to cook them some dinner?
Alibaba really is stupid.
He also doesn’t stop smiling, like he really is happy because of Kouha, like he’s the human equivalent of a sunflower that makes everybody’s lives that little bit brighter and more cheerful and – oh crap, Kouha thinks – maybe this is what his brothers see in Alibaba after all.
That night, he tells Alibaba to put the futon away that he’s been sleeping on all this time, and to join him instead.
“It’s your bed,” Kouha mutters, glad he’s turned the light off already so Alibaba can’t see him blushing. “You should be sleeping in here and not the floor. It may be only a fifth the size of mine, but I guess it’s still big enough for the both of us.”
He doesn’t need the light of the lamp to know that Alibaba is smiling his stupid happy smile, like *Kouha* is the one who’s making him this happy in the first place, but that’s even stupider so Kouha stops thinking about it.
But it doesn’t stop him from sending Koumei a text message before he falls asleep.
‘I’m extending my stay,’ it says. ‘Don’t expect me to come home for a while.’
End.