The Right Touch
By Laura Schiller
Based on: Shugo Chara
Copyright: Peach Pit
That don't impress me much.
So you've got the moves, but have you got the touch?
Now don't get me wrong, yeah, I think you're all right –
but that won't keep me warm in the middle of the night.
- Shania Twain, "That Don't Impress Me Much"
Amu woke up in the middle of the night to find that Ikuto had crept into her bed again. He was wrapped around her like an octopus, making the bed much hotter and sweatier than it had to be. She had briefly contemplated wearing a light nightshirt instead of her full-length flannel pyjamas, but just the thought of Ikuto's lascivious smirk had made her decide against that.
"Ikuto," she hissed. "Ikuto. Wake up and get off me."
He blinked, yawned, and pulled her tighter.
"Off, Ikuto."
Her shove woke him up, but had no effect in freeing her. His teeth flashed in the moonlight. "No."
"Please," said Amu, struggling for calm. "You're smothering me. I can't sleep in this heat."
"Some like it hot, baby."
She turned away from the smell of his breath. Apparently he'd been eating all the wasabi in the bento she brought, and not brushing his teeth afterwards.
"I'm not your baby. Why don't you sleep in the beanbag chair?"
"Because I wanna sleep with you."
The sixteen-year-old's long-fingered hand wandered up from her abdomen to her chest, like a large crawling spider.
"Aww, aren't you ticklish there?" he slurred.
The hand landed on one of her breasts, small as they were, and squeezed.
Amu threw herself against him with all her strength, enough to make him roll of the bed with a thump. She cringed. Would it wake her parents?
"Oi," said Ikuto, rubbing his head with dazed unconcern. "Chill. You've got nothing up there anyhow."
Amu sat up, holding her pillow, trying not to show that she was trembling from head to foot. It was dark in her room, with the merest slivers of moonlight falling across the floor. She could barely make up his shadowy outline; if he made a sudden move, she might not see until it was too late.
"I've been very patient with you," she said in a sharp whisper. "I took you in when you had nowhere else to go. I owed you for saving my life – and yes, I thought we could be friends someday. But I won't take this, do you hear?"
"Please elaborate." She couldn't see his face, and his voice was unreadable.
"I'm not your pet, I'm not your toy, and I'm sure as hell not your me again and I'll scream. Mama and Papa will have you arrested, and Hoshina-san can bail you out."
She thought she detected a shudder at the mention of Hoshina, whom they both knew would exact a heavy price for such a favor.
"She means it, Ikuto," a high-pitched voice piped up from Amu's nightstand. Ran had lifted her eggshell and floated out. Her sisters followed, ranging themselves between Amu and Ikuto like a military formation.
"We will fight for Amu-chan, desu," said Suu.
"You and your tomcat chara will treat us with respect," added Miki, with a withering glance at Yoru. "If you know what's good for you."
Yoru held up his front paws defensively. "Oi, don't look at me! He's the one who's been making trouble!"
Ikuto gathered up his long limbs and staggered to his feet. Once he had his balance, he shook his head and sighed.
"Guess I've really been misreading the signals, eh?" he muttered. "Boy, Amu … you really ought to learn that when a woman says no, it means yes."
"I'm not a woman," Amu shot back. "I'm eleven years old. When I say no, I mean no."
"You sure?"
She couldn't see Ikuto's dark blue eyes and crooked smile from here, but she could imagine it. There had been moments, now and then … moments when they had understood each other, sharing a laugh inside a teacup, or when his arms had caught her as she fell from some high place. She had seen his flashes of kindness, the loneliness he carried around which made a girl want to lift it. But then she remembered another pair of eyes, scarlet instead of blue, and another body holding her. Falling into a soft pillow of golden light, falling into the slight, strong arms of the boy she had loved since the day she set eyes on him. The smell of soap and clean sweat. A white handkerchief held to her cheek. A sceptre raised to defend her. Tadase.
"I'm sure," she said.
She saw Tadase's White Day cookies sitting on her desk, now open, half of them eaten. She remembered his question: Will you let me fall in love with you?
He had not kissed her then, much as she wanted to. He had touched his forehead to hers and taken her hand. Just that simple touch had made her heart pound, had sent thrills through her, in the way she realized now that Ikuto's embraces never had.
Tadase loved her with a child's love, innocently tender, just like the love she had for him. They were on the same page. Whatever an adult relationship entailed, in all its bewildering complexities, Amu was in no hurry to find out. Not for many years yet.
"Go find a woman your own age, Ikuto," she said.
Ikuto replied with a grunt. He moved over to Amu's beanbag chair, eyed it for a moment, then curled up in it like the stray cat he resembled.
"Suppose," he said, half to himself, "I waited for you to grow up?"
For a moment, Amu was moved. Could he really care that much for her? Then her common sense caught up with her, and she shook her head.
"For how long? Ten years? No offense, Ikuto, but you don't strike me as a very patient person."
"Mmph. Maybe you're right." He wriggled into the chair until it adjusted to his shape, then relaxed. After a few moments, his slow, deep breathing filled the room.
Amu leaned back into her bed, feeling as if she's just won a question egg battle. Perhaps, in some intangible way, she had. Her little girls relaxed their vigilance and floated back into their eggs, not before demonstratively removing Yoru's eggshell from the basket. He curled up inside it and flew to join his bearer in the chair.
Poor Ikuto, Amu thought tiredly. Soon now I'll have to something about him. I have to tell Tadase. Even though it will hurt him. I have to make peace between those two, to bring Tadase's big brother back to him. Soon Tadase and I will free Ikuto from Easter … together.
Holding fast to that hope, Amu drifted into sleep.