Head back home...
Somewhere, just outside Wufei’s closed window, there was a rooster cockcrowing at the sunrise, but that was not what was annoying him at that moment.
It was the stench… from somewhere in his room. Rotten food, crammed somewhere; between him mattresses, behind some books, inside his clothes hamper.
He can smell it. He’s not going insane.
He’s been taking baths, so he know that it’s not him.
He washes his clothes regularly, but even if that wasn’t the case, dirty clothes do not smell like this.
Like rotting flesh. Month-old vegetables and mold-crusted grain.
He is going to find out who’s the inconsiderate that left the perishables in his room. As soon as he finds the source of the offending smell…
He opened up his closet and began flinging out clothing and shoes and blankets in all directions. It had to be somewhere, crammed in between clean sheets and pillowcases.
He pulled the sheets from off from his bed with such force that the mattress slid to the floor. It had to be somewhere, resting peacefully underneath his blankets, away from the sense of touch.
He scrambled and crawled all over the floor, looking underneath the dressers, the bed, the small table that kept his glasses within reach. It had to be somewhere, sleeping like a rotting corpse, just out of reach.
Perhaps in the air vent…
“Wufei!”
Wufei’s head jerked up, suddenly forgetting his mission of ripping the carpet out, and noticed Quatre at his door. The poor boy’s mouth was so wide that a whole beehive could have fit inside.
“What are you doing!” Quatre could only stare, somewhat dumbfounded, as the scene slowly made less and less sense. Wufei, still wrapped in a towel, hair still wet from the shower, had only taken two minutes to make his immaculate, feng shui-guided bedroom into an utter pigsty.
“Do you smell it, Quatre?” Wufei asked, his eyes wide and just a bit hysterical. “That horrible stench?”
Quatre sniffled once. Twice. “Eww. Wufei, your farts smell like cheese.”
He crinkled his nose and tried to rub the offensive smell back out.
“I did not fart,” Wufei interjected as he got back to his feet and dusted his bath towel off. “Someone left something in here to rot.”
“Why would anyone do that?”
Wufei sighed. “Quatre, what day is it?”
Quatre placed a finger on his lips in thought. “April 1st?”
“Exactly.” Wufei stalked to his dresser and pulled the drawers out. He rummaged through each one, from the top on down with psychotic zeal until, finally, he found the culprit sandwiched between a pair of cut-off shorts he doesn’t wear anymore and a shirt that says ‘Shitcago Bills’.
Or, should it be culprits?
Eggs, dozens of them, painted in the various shades of pastels and marked with black letters written on them in black marker, sat happily together in a bunch. A cluster. A rotting heap of chicken embryo.
Wufei recoiled in horror at the smell and could only stare. He didn’t even want to touch the disgusting orbs. Quatre leaned in and peeked over Wufei’s shoulder. “Eww,” he repeated to himself. “What do the letters spell out?”
Wufei scowled as he used the ‘Shitcago Bills’ shirt to collect the disgusting orbs and take them to the trash. “‘April Fools’. I am going to kill him.” He headed out with his bath towel still on to find the unjust fiend that did this to him.
“Who?” Quatre followed the brave egg carrier out of the messy room.
“Who else? Duo Maxwell.”
Duo sneezed into his hand and moaned in self-pity. “I hate being sick,” he whined to himself.
Heero didn’t look up from the book he was reading as he sat in a stuffed chair by Duo’s bed. “Stop being weak. That’s what got you into this mess in the first place.”
“Aw, kiss my ass,” Duo whimpered as he hid head underneath his blankets. “Some friend you are. I’d rather have Wufei here than–”
“Maxwell!” Wufei’s voice bellowed through the house, forcing its way underneath Duo’s sheets as Wufei stormed into his bedroom.
Heero looked up and raised an eyebrow in question as to why Wufei, of all people, would be running through the house, his hair still wet, wrapped in a bath towel, holding an irregular shirt wrapped around something.
Then he smelled it. Immediately Heero’s nose crinkled up.
Duo lifted the blankets out of his face as he stood up to the (rather angry) sound of his name. His face, blanched already with the aftereffects of a high fever and diarrhea, only whitened more when he smelled it. “Jesus Christ,” he whimpered, covering his nose. “Someone light a match.”
“Maxwell, you are going to pay for putting these things in my dresser!” Wufei cried out, his voice heavy with the promise of vengeance.
“Wait a minute,” Duo hoarsely cried out, his dry throat only making matters worse. He raised his hands up in protest. “What did I do?”
“You, Maxwell, left these Easter eggs in my room to fester and rot so that I could find them,” Wufei replied, thunderclaps of justice pealing in the background.
“Wufei, Duo couldn’t have done that,” Heero interjected. “He has been fighting this illness since before those eggs had to have been made, painted, and left in your room so that they can stink now.”
“Wufei,” Quatre wailed from behind the handkerchief he was using to block out the stench, “could you please throw those things out already?”
“No!” Wufei cried out. “Not until I find out who. So, Yuy, if your little boyfriend didn’t do it,” at this both Heero and Duo both pushed their chest out in indignation, much like prize cockfighters, “who else could have done it, huh? Who?”
Soft laughter echoed into the bedroom, causing Duo and Heero to pause from making any comments. It was odd, almost whimsical, this laughter.
The four boys turned as one to try to pinpoint the source of that completely amused sound.
Trowa, leaning against the doorframe, tried desperately to wipe the tears from his eyes, whether these tears came from the nauseous scent of the eggs or from laughter, it was uncertain.
“Happy April Fool’s Day, Wufei. Everyone,” Trowa managed to say in between chuckles as he stopped leaning against the doorframe and wandered away.
~~~end
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