A/N1: I do not own Itazura na Kiss. Still.
"What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly." - Richard Bach
If raindrops had eyes, that evening they would have observed several situations that, unrelated on the surface, would prove to be interconnected.
Tears of the young man in the empty restaurant echoed their fall to earth as he cleaned spilled food and broken dishes. No matter how hard I try, he thought as he wiped his face with a sleeve, I always end up second to Irie.
Another young man waited in vain outside a train station, his umbrella protecting him from most of the precipitation. Where the hell is she? The last train of the evening would be arriving soon, and he was eager to tell her that he had finally been shocked into recognizing feelings that he always kept hidden from everyone, including himself. As the minutes ticked by, his anticipation turned to concern and worry.
A young woman, hair now bedraggled with wet and clothes at least five kilos heavier than when she had donned them that morning, wandered the streets of Tokyo in a daze. Wasn't it enough that I had to give up the man I've loved for five years? Why can't I have the chance to mourn and get over him? I like Kin-chan, sure, but why was he being so pushy so soon? Her eyes clouded, she stepped into the street as the signal changed, not spying the motorcycle trying to make a last-minute turn.
Of all the bad luck, now it had to rain! Why did the young lady—Sayuri...Sato...what WAS her name?—who had been so entertaining last weekend have to show up when I was on a date with someone else? The screeching and hair-pulling between the two had been embarrassing enough, but then they had joined forces and turned on him. "I swear," he muttered to himself, "I'm going to lay off females for a while." He then laughed at the statement. Yeah, right. I wonder how long that will last.
As it happened, only for a few seconds. Luckily his reflexes were quick enough that he could drop the jacket that had been shielding his head to catch the young woman who ricocheted off a speeding vehicle. Barely managing to hold her upright, he looked at the bloodstain that she left on his ¥20,000 shirt. "Damn!"
Scooping his jacket off the sidewalk, he managed to support her to a covered bus stop. "How badly are you hurt, miss?" he asked, while carefully manipulating her left forearm, which was covered in abrasions and one small cut.
"Like I'm going to die!" she wailed.
He blinked at her. "It doesn't look that serious. It was just a glancing blow. If he hadn't had that basket and oversized side mirror, you might not have even been touched."
"Oh." She quieted. "You mean my arm. Now that you mention it, it does hurt." She squinted at it closely in the gloom. "Well, it'll clean up all right, I guess."
"Easier than my shirt," he snapped. "Look, it's ruined."
She glared up at him. "Well, too bad for you. It's just a piece of material. This is my body!" She looked down at the wound, still oozing blood despite the fact that she was pinching the sides of the cut together.
He heaved an exasperated sigh. "That's not how you apply pressure!" He adjusted her hands then looked at his shirt with resignation.
"What are you, a doctor or something?" she retorted.
"Almost," he answered. "I don't suppose you have any scissors on you, do you?"
She sniffed and wiped her nose with an elbow. "Some nail clippers in my purse. But what—Hey!" she exclaimed when he grabbed it and dumped the contents on the bench.
"Right," he gritted through his teeth, "here goes!" Under her horrified gaze he amputated one silk sleeve then began to wrap it around her forearm.
"Um, that's a little tight," she said.
"Don't worry," he assured her sarcastically, "this is hurting me way more than it's hurting you."
Gazing at the damp curls bent over her arm, she blinked her tears away. "Thank you," she managed to get out.
He looked up into her eyes, framed by lashes thickened with her tears. "You're welcome," he said, "but you really need to get this cleaned and looked at by a professional. Can I walk you to the nearest emergency room?"
"No, no hospital!" She was afraid that the sight would remind her of Naoki's lost dream and she would start crying all over again at how cruel fate was.
He paused a moment in thought. "Then how about I see that you make it home safely?"
Her head moved rapidly as she declined his second suggestion. Back there she would have to see Mrs. Irie, who was still in denial that her plans had come to nothing; her father, who would be disappointed that she had broken with Kinnosuke; and possibly even him. "I can't go back!" she cried. "Not now! Not yet."
He heaved a sigh and rose. "So. No hospital. No home." He looked at her dispassionately. "Would you like to come back to my place? I can look more closely at your injury, clean it up properly, and give you a place to crash for the night."
"Oh, no," she said, eyes wide, "I couldn't impose on a stranger."
He pointed from his bare arm to the makeshift bandage on hers. "After all we've shared, can't we at least be considered acquaintances?"
After a moment she gave a small giggle. "When you put it that way…" She bobbed her head. "I'm Aihara Kotoko."
"Nishigaki Yuichi, at your service," he replied, bowing in return. "Shall we continue to a warmer—and drier—locale?"
Less than two minutes inside his apartment, the argument began.
"What do you mean—'strip'?!" Kotoko's voice rose in outrage.
"You're shaking like the proverbial leaf," Nishigaki snapped. "You need to get out of those wet clothes."
"B-but you—you're just as wet!"
"Not hardly," he countered. "I haven't been wandering around for over an hour." When she suddenly sneezed, he backed away then began rummaging on his storage shelves. "That does it!" He thrust a blanket and towel at her and pointed to the bedroom. "I can either undress you or you can do it while I divest myself of my own wet clothes."
She snatched the items from him with a grumpy look and he slammed the door behind himself. "How rude!" she muttered between shivers.
Kotoko gasped as he carefully swabbed ointment onto the cleansed scrapes. "Sorry." He blew gently on her arm, which made her shudder slightly. He looked up at her. "Still not warm?" he asked, flashing her a glimpse of straight white teeth. He shoved the blanket higher on her shoulder. "It shouldn't take much longer." He pulled glasses from a case and donned them before carefully and precisely pressing the sides of the cut together. "Okay, here are your options. A couple of butterfly bandages might suffice for this, if you're extra careful not to jar it. The hospital would probably advise stitches."
She sniffed. "No hospital. Just put on the bandages, Doctor."
He chuckled. "Not quite yet, but I do like the sound of it." After securing the wound, he wrapped it gently in gauze and rocked back onto his heels. It had not gone unnoticed that her lips were still slightly tinted blue and that she was trying to stifle her shivers. "How does a nice hot bath sound?"
"Like heaven," she replied, "but what about this?" She raised the newly bandaged arm.
"I'll fasten a plastic bag around it, and as long as you don't submerge it, you should be all right." He rose. "Wait a few minutes and I'll come get you."
When the bath was ready, he taped the covering to her arm above the wounds and escorted her to the bathroom. Kotoko stood at the edge of the tub, uncertain how to proceed.
"Go ahead and get in," he said.
She turned and glared at him. "Only if you get out first."
Nishigaki rolled his eyes. "Someone has to catch the blanket. Look, I have four older sisters, have been studying several years to be a doctor, and haven't taken a vow of celibacy. You don't have anything I haven't seen before." When she bit her lip, he turned her around so her back was to him and took hold of the blanket at her shoulders. "I'll close my eyes, okay?"
"Okay," she replied in a small voice. When she submerged her body (except for her arm, which she held high above her), she let out a sigh of relief.
"Just call me when you've thawed out, and we'll do this in reverse," he said, eyes still tightly shut.
"Thank you," she said softly.
"Okay," he announced loudly, "I'm going to back in, so don't freak out." Kotoko, her body nicely pink and semi-scalded, called out her agreement. He deposited some folded clothes on a stool then waved a large towel. "I am turning around now."
"Eyes closed!" she commanded.
"I know, I know," he complained. She stepped out of the tub and took it from him and managed to semi-wrap it around her one-handedly. Correctly interpreting the fumbling sounds, his mouth curved in a small smirk. "Having a little trouble?"
"Not a bit!" she snapped. "I just need a little more time—ooh!"
His eyes opened as he caught her before she fell to the floor then turned her away from him. "Such modesty! If you were a patient in the hospital, this would be nothing." He patted her back, arms and legs dry then draped the towel over her shoulders. "You finish up!" He picked up a smaller one and handed it to her over her shoulder. "Once you're dressed, wrap your hair in this and come back to the main room. I'll dry it for you."
Kotoko clutched the towels to her body, eyes clenched in embarrassment. Not even in her daydreams about Naoki had something like this happened to her! She managed to hang the large towel on a hook after several attempts and then donned the clothing with only a little difficulty. The athletic shorts luckily had a tie that she could pull to tighten the waistband so that the garment would at least hang on her hips, but his tee-shirt almost fell to her knees.
Nishigaki was unable to stifle laughter when she appeared in the doorway.
"What?" Kotoko asked testily.
He waved her over with a grin. "Just that you still look like a waterlogged terrier." He sat on the floor and patted the rug in front of him. "Come on!"
She shuffled over and settled herself between his legs, her back stiff.
"Relax!" he said as he began to towel her hair dry. Soon the soothing movements had her leaning forward, resting her elbow on his thighs.
"You're good at this," she said, sound muffled by the towel.
"Like I said, I have four sisters," he reminded her.
"Oh. So you must've watched them do this a lot."
"Watched them? Ha!" He rubbed the towel a little more vigorously. "I was the youngest and they made me their slave."
She giggled. "I would've thought you would have been the spoiled little prince of the family."
"In my dreams. No, they were all big bullies. Still are," he said, eyebrows meeting momentarily.
"Really?" Kotoko turned her head and stared. "How can that be?"
"A couple of years ago the one nearest my age 'dropped by' one of my classes and pretended to be my girlfriend. Brought my love life to a standstill for a month or so." He grinned at her. "Do you have any siblings?"
She sobered. "No. Well, Yuuki-kun is practically one, that brat. He's the younger son of the family Otosan and I have been living with."
He pretended not to notice that her eyes had become shiny with moisture. "So, do you spoil him or torture him?"
Kotoko snorted. "He's the one who always tortures me. And to think that I saved his life at least two times!"
"I know," he said matter-of-factly, "we men are scum."
She giggled. "It's not a good idea for you to admit it!"
"Well, it got your mind off whatever made you tear up again, didn't it?"
She paused. "You can be kind of nice, you know?"
"Don't tell anyone." He tossed the towel aside and poked her nose with a finger. "Now, before it gets any later, you need to call your dad and let him know where you are."
Her face fell. "Okay." He reached over for her purse and handed it to her. "Otosan?" She blinked. "I'm, uh, staying with a friend tonight. No, not Satomi. You don't know...them. I know, I'm sorry I didn't call earlier. Okay. Love you too. Bye."
During the conversation he had removed the adhesive from the edge of the plastic bag and now he pulled it off her arm. "How does it feel?" he asked, supporting her forearm.
"It hurts, but more achy, if you know what I mean?"
"I'm going to give you some painkillers and then put you to bed."
"Oh, I can sleep on the couch!" she demurred.
"Not with that arm. Remember, if you're not careful you still might need stitches. I can deal with the couch or floor for one night."
"Are you sure?"
"Are you questioning your doctor?"
"You said you weren't one yet!" she teased right back.
He shook his head. "Women's memories are amazingly flexible. Okay, upsie daisy!" He easily lifted her to her feet and led the way to his bedroom. "See if you can sleep on your back with your arm on this pillow." After she swallowed the two pills he handed her, he swept the covers over her and turned the light down low. "I'll be the next room over if you need anything. You'll be disoriented in a strange room, so don't try to get out of bed yourself."
"Okay, doctor," she said cheekily.
He chuckled, shook his head, and closed the door.
A/N2: While this is going to be a very Kotoko-centric story, you may notice as it progresses that she is not the only "caterpillar".
A/N3: As much as I enjoy tearing apart Kotoko and Naoki and then putting them back together, this isn't one of those stories. Fair warning: This is definitely non-canon. Naoki is a marginal character and will only appear sporadically.
A/N4: (I know, another one.) I have chosen an "M" rating for this story. It's not that my writing style for love scenes is going to change, but certain subject matters might be discussed a little more frankly than some readers might deem appropriate for a "T" rating. Better safe than sorry.