Let’s Have a Colour Fight! Angels in Japan Substory
A kissed By the Baddest Bidder headcanon, Angels in Japan
Soryu Oh X Angel
For the WONDERFUL Brilexa! Hope you feel better soon. This
one’s to cheer you up! ;) For new readers: prequel to this is Christmas Magic and check out ‘Angels in Japan’ by
seductiveangelofdeath on fanfiction.net, for the backstory on Angel and Soryu.
So this story is based on the Indian festival of Holi- as pictured above. Just a drabble to have a bit of fun with my Bidders. I hope you like it! ;)
Love M xxx
Angel all but skipped into the penthouse lounge, looking
wickedly delighted about something.
‘Uh oh.’ Mamoru was the first one to notice her unusually
cheery mood. ‘You’re up to something kid, and whatever it is I don’t want to be
dragged into it.’ He protested as the wicked gleam in her eyes flashed at him.
‘Come on Kishi, this is going to be fun!’ She laughed at his
‘What’s going on?’ Ota asked warily, ‘Why did you call us
all to the penthouse?’
‘Wait! Is everyone here?’ She scanned the room quickly to
ascertain all her friends were there. ‘Good! I’ve got a surprise lined up for
you and I can’t wait till you find out. You’re going to need white clothes- but
something you wouldn’t mind getting ruined. This is going to be awesome!’ She
clapped her hands delightedly together as the others stared at her in
‘Angel, can you slow down and actually let us know what’s
going on in that head of yours?’ Eisuke frowned at her.
‘Right, sorry. Ok, here’s the deal. I’ve got a surprise for
you tomorrow and I’m revealing no part of it, except that you need to be
dressed in white and prepared to get the clothes a bit messy. Also tunics tops
and loose trousers are preferable- I think you might find it a bit more
comfortable.’ Angel explained solemnly, not clearing up their confusion at all.
‘Just what exactly are you up to? Come on, tell us. Pretty
please?’ Baba pleaded batting his eyelashes persuasively. He took her hand and
was about to press a kiss on it when Soryu immediately stepped up with a
fierce, protective expression on his face. Baba backed of hastily, eyeing the
breast pocket where Soryu kept his gun with caution. Angel giggled at that and
‘Nope! You’re not getting it out of me that easily. Wait and
see- I promise you’ll enjoy it.’
The next morning, all four of them stood waiting in the
lounge, wondering what on earth Angel was about to drag them into. Mamoru stood
looking as carelessly casual as ever, dressed in his usual jeans and a loose
white top. Ota and Baba had followed Angel’s instructions and where dressed in
matching long white tunic tops with loose trousers, while Eisuke stood with a
sultry look next to them wearing an expensive looking white shirt and dress
trousers, a gold watch gleaming on his wrist.
Angel bounced in, dragging a wary-looking Soryu, dressed in
an Indian kurta behind her. She was
wearing some sort of Indian dress: a salwar
kameez. She was wearing a long, white, beautifully embroidered tunic with
the only dash of colour a bright orange scarf that flowed around her neck. She
looked a vision in white and Soryu almost forgot about everyone else there,
mesmerized by the radiant glow she was exuding. She’d been generally happier
and more cheerful since they’d returned from their trip to visit her parents in
England, but today she looked as excited as a five year old.
‘Come on! Let’s go.’ She all but bounced into the penthouse
elevator. Baba looked as excited as she did and her enthusiasm was even beginning
to rub off on the others.
‘The things we do for you, kid.’ Mamoru grumbled, watching
her fondly as they followed her into the elevator.
A lengthy drive later, they pulled up in Yokahama, where
there was a huge gathering of people outside a large, outdoor party-area/
field. A giant arching entryway had the words “Holi Festival 2015” written on
‘What on earth-?’ Soryu began, but before he could finish
his sentence his girlfriend was gone. She’d disappeared into the writhing
crowd, leaving them huddled together, cautiously trying to figure out what was
‘What is “Holi”?’ Eisuke wondered aloud.
‘Not a clue.’ Baba sang cheerfully.
‘What are you so damn happy about?’ Kishi growled.
‘Well, unlike you sour lot, I’ve noticed that there’s a festival going on and there are so many
pretty girls here!’
‘Forget the girls- look at the decorations! It’s amazing: so
artistic!’ Ota exclaimed joyfully, watching in amazement as the preparation
commenced. There were lines of tempting looking trays with mountains of powder
in every different colour conceivable.
‘What’s it all for?’ Ota wondered aloud.
Angel had reappeared suddenly and ran past them, smearing
something on their cheeks as she flew by, until she finally got to Soryu whose
face she grasped with both hands, leaving bright orange imprints, and kissed
him full on the lips.
‘Happy Holi!’ She exclaimed, throwing the rest of the orange
powder in her fist all over them. They froze, looking shocked as hell as the
colour settled over them. Baba was the first one to respond.
‘Holi is the Indian festival of colours. It’s a way to
welcome spring. Anyway, it’s basically a huge play fight where you throw
colours and water on each other and generally have a good time. Also, beware of
what you drink because it’s a Holi tradition to mix bhang in the drinks, which will
get you high. I mean it’s funny as hell to watch but I thought I’d warn you
before you end up… well you know, trying to kiss a tree or something.’ She
giggled at the thought.
The guys’ jaws dropped in shock.
‘A colour fight?’ Hell yeah! I’ve been training for this my
whole life!’ Ota whooped, racing towards the colours.
‘There’s no way, at all,
that you’re going to get me to play this stupid game, kid.’ Mamoru huffed,
trying to brush the colour off his jeans. He ended up smearing the orange all
over them and eventually gave up with an annoyed huff.
‘Really, Mamo?’ She asked slyly, before challenging: ‘Are
you sure you don’t want revenge for
what I did to you guys. If you want to try and put colour on me, then you’re going to have to catch
me first!’ She raced off in the same direction as Ota, grabbing a handful of
purple powder, before disappearing into the growing crowd of people.
Soryu looked around in slight dismay. His face was bright
orange and he knew that it could only get worse. Suddenly before he could
follow Angel, Eisuke turned to him with a laugh.
‘Come on, Soryu. This’ll be just like those snowball fights
we used to have back in England, remember? Only, more colourful.’ The joy and
laughter of the colourful festival was infectious and even Soryu was beginning
to feel it. They headed over to the colour stalls and before long Soryu was
furiously chasing after Eisuke, trying to douse him with a packet of green
powder as revenge for the blue coating his neck and chest. Angel and Eisuke
took turns in baiting him, the other attacking as soon as he began to chase
one, so he couldn’t get his hands on either of them. Colours were flying and
the crowd of people looked like a rainbow had burst over them. Ota tried to
fight “artistically” at first, carefully picking and choosing which colours to
throw on his friends, but eventually they all ended up so messy that you could
barely distinguish one colour from the other. Even Mamoru ended up joining in,
rubbing Ota’s head messily, turning the dishwater blonde into a shocking pink.
Angel couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun at Holi. By the end
of the day, they were exhausted and Angel was so covered in coloured powder
that every step she took left a trail of colour behind. The five bidders had
gotten their revenge on her for throwing colour on them by pinning her down and
using her as target practice by chucking fistfuls of powder and water bombs at
her. Thankfully it was a hot day and they dried off pretty soon. As they walked
to a nearby hotel they laughed and happily chatted about the fantastic day
they’d had. Angel couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Soryu look so
happy: he’d been really stressed recently over some conflict with a rival mob
and this day had been just the thing to take his mind off it.
‘Did you have fun?’ Angel asked, shyly taking his hand. They
slowed down and let the others walk ahead, so they could have a moment to talk.
‘I really enjoyed today. It’s not really something I do
often, but you bring out all kinds of different sides in me. What is it about
you, woman, that makes me make such a complete fool out of myself in front of
you?’ He wondered, half to himself.
‘I think you’re wonderful, Soryu. And it’s not foolish to
allow yourself to enjoy the simple pleasures of life. Anyway, I’m glad you had
fun- you’ve been so worked up lately. And you got to find out a little bit more
about my religion too.’ She smiled fondly at him. ‘I love you, Soryu.’ She
gently leant against him as they walked hand in hand. Soryu was silent, for a
moment, watching the bleeding sun setting in the horizon.
‘I love you too, Angel.’ He whispered, so quietly she almost
missed it. And it was true. He’d never thought that he’d be able to feel this
way with someone and at first he was constantly terrified it wouldn’t last. But
after so many amazing months with her, he wondered ‘Maybe, just maybe, this time, it’ll last. I won’t lose her. Ever.’
He wrapped his arm protectively around her waist as they rejoined the others,
hearts full of happiness and a peace that Soryu hoped would last.
Kris Wu liked to think that he was a descendant of cupid. He also liked to think that he was the best matchmaker in town. Most of the couple at his workplace came to be because of him and it makes the hopeless romantic in him dance in delight. He really should get paid for his job well done.
His housemate, Kyungsoo, begs to differ though because Kris doesn’t ‘match make’. He superglues, metaphorically of course, two mismatched strangers together until they admit defeat and stick together willingly. So no, Kyungsoo does not think his hyung was a good matchmaker at all. The petite son of Do didn’t hesitate in telling his hyung so.
But did that stop Kris from his cupid duties? Psshh, of course not.
Sassy little Kyungsoo didn’t know a thing about romance to judge his matchmaking ways.