The Dream is Here: Part One
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It had been almost six years since the day Suzuhara Misaki caused an international upset at the Finals in the Angelic Layer Tournament, replacing the adored "Shuu."
For almost six years, Hikaru had become stronger with her Deus as they trained and improved, gradually, almost invisibly.
For almost six years, the miracle pair had battled their way to the top, time and again, their collective millions of fans multiplying like rabbits.
And for almost six years now, she had regained her mother, Shuuko, gained a surrogate father in Icchan, and in front of untold perhaps thousands of fans and viewers, had been told she was loved by Mihara Oujirou.
Now sixteen, going on seventeen in half a year, Misaki was still as childlike as ever in her natural purity but at the same time, a bit wiser and a bit more mature in the most humble sense of the word. Petite and admittedly, very short, still only coming up to her love's shoulder, Misaki had long since resigned herself to her shortness.
It helped that Oujirou thought her height, or lack thereof, was a very cute aspect of her.
Right now she was making a, she smiled contentedly, a "simple meal." She was to meet Oujirou-san, as she shyly called him still sometimes, for lunch, this lunch, in the park. It had never been broken, her habit of addressing him with the formal suffix; Mihara Oujirou was the Prince of the Layer still, adored by as many people as adored her, always managing to come in at a second or third, depending on whether or not Shuuko entered the competition. He still unintentionally commanded an air of respect and awe, an inspiration of adoration that seemed to congregate around him even as his fans did.
He liked to refer to them as friends, though most of them were female and in such a case, one might have thought the word sorority to suit it better.well, a sorority committed to a guy, and not just any guy, no, the clean and suave Prince of the Layer, the Layer's best mentor. If Seto Ringo was its Idol, and Shuu was its Queen, then what else could he be, but mentor? And it suited him well, Misaki mused thoughtfully as she rolled the rice dumplings in her small hands, careful to add the bits of vegetable in moderately; it stuck better that way. He was endlessly patient with all of them, even the ones, she frowned slightly, who literally threw themselves at him.
Misaki wasn't blind; innocence didn't need to be blind as she proved. She noticed how not a mere few but many attractive females gushed over Mihara Oujirou and how he, being him, was ever benign and polite with them, courteous, the perfect gentleman.
But she trusted him with a conversely clairvoyant faith in her heart that wrested any dispute or doubt in her mind away, to be whisked into nothingness on a wind of smiles whenever she spent time with him.
I trust him; Misaki smiled to herself. Then she carefully finished the lunch, placing the lids carefully on top and scampered up the stairs to change her clothes. She had, for reasons unknown, kept her hair the same as when she was first introduced to the Layer, short. Perhaps it was to remind her of her strength as a small person, her own person, just like Hikaru, who was still her only Angel.
Perhaps she just liked her hair short.
One of the things she loved about Oujirou was that she knew, no matter if she showed up for their outing in a lampshade and oversized sweats and a backwards inside-out shirt, he would still call her beautiful or cute or sweet. And he meant it; the pristine prince did not use words idly with the one he loved, perhaps teasingly at times, but always sincere in the most important of moments.
Still, knowing this, she always tried to look nice for him, even if she felt inside she could never be half as pretty as many of his...Misaki paused and grimaced slightly, "Fans."
Not more than ten minutes later, she ran out the door, bento in hand, leaving a note on the counter for her Aunt. Her mother was gone, staying with Icchan for a short while on an actually extended business trip to do research on her disease. Misaki's smile faded a bit.
They had been able to do surgery not long ago, actually right after her first tournament, and she and her mother had walked together in the snow, as normal mother and daughter might do on a snowy day, smiling and laughing. Neither had noticed the two pairs of watching eyes, belonging of course to Mihara one and two, Icchan and Oujirou. The two had deftly hidden behind a corner as mother and daughter passed, as they were later to tell them through somewhat bashful laughter.
And her mother's health had improved scads.
It wasn't really her mother anymore that was the problem though...
A slight breeze blew through, Misaki's hair swishing in time with it. For the moment, she let it carry away with it, her worries and pushed them away. She might just have been imagining the recent...troubles with herself. She just might.
Approaching the park, her smile returned full-force as she noticed Oujirou sitting there, looking as perfect as a modern-day god, waiting for her, early as usual. He didn't ever want to make her wait, he simply explained whenever she asked or protested that surely he had other things to do. Oujirou would always add that there was nothing more important than her, Misaki, to him. A series of lovely pink blushes would follow and so usually went the greetings.
Today though, she did not ask. She only smiled down at him, for once, as he was sitting and she was standing. Granted, she couldn't look down a great deal but it was a bit of a role-reversal. Then she sat down beside him and once more she only came up to his shoulder.
"Konnichi-wa Misaki-chan," he said, eyes languidly resting on her. Sometimes Misaki couldn't believe he loved her, of all people.
"Konnichi-wa Oujirou-san," she replied cheerily and held out the bento to him.
Not long after, it was gone and they sat in a full and easy silence, perpetually comfortable with one another.
It was an interestingly beautiful scene, picturesque even. Her small frame next to his more masculine but equally lithe one, her childlike beauty next to his immaculately developed sensual appearance.
She was sixteen; he was more than a few years older than her and somehow, it worked.
Love was funny that way.
Almost idly, Oujirou laid his hand lightly on top of Misaki's smaller one. It was a small gesture of affection and yet it had the power to make Misaki feel her heart rate speed up a bit...or a lot. She wondered briefly if it would always be like this.
With Oujirou, she knew somehow, that it most certainly would be.
Remarkable, how closed they were, it was.
Another breeze blew steadily through.
"Ano, Misaki-chan, gomen, I have to leave," Oujirou apologized sincerely. This was normal. He was forever being called off to meetings and things like that. Misaki did not mind. It wasn't in her to hold his work against him, as much as it took him away from her. She had school and Angelic Layer and now, her mother to deal with and watch over anyway.
"Iie, daijoubu! I'll see you tomorrow, ne Oujirou-san?" she smiled as she bounced up off the bench.
"Hai, Misaki-chan," he laughed softly and ever so lightly placed a kiss on her cheek. This was, due to their age difference, as far as they had gone, a small kiss on the cheek. For most of their relationship thus far, it had been more than inappropriate for them to show open affection like that; after all, when they started, she was only eleven. Yet it seemed this was enough for both of them right now. Just as she never pressed him about his crazed fan girls, he never pressed upon her the lack of physical intimacy. This was just as well, for where others saw a mere hug or closeness of the bodies on a bench, there was a warmth invisible to their outsiders eyes.
"Ja ne Oujirou-san!" she waved to him until he was out of sight, and stood there long after, watching the empty space before her he previously occupied so comfortably. Misaki sighed; a sound of fulfillment coming from her that one could only suppose was love-induced. And it was.
Walking home, Misaki produced from her shoulder bag one of her dearest companions, her Angel, Hikaru. The Angel looked brand new, as Misaki was always keeping her in the most watchful care and maintenance.
"Daijoubu Hikaru-chan?" she asked idly. She had not given up the presumably childish habit of having conversations with her Angel. To her, although Angelic Layer itself was a game indeed, made for fun and good-natured competition, the Angels were as real as the Deus. Hikaru was her friend, as she knew Wizard was Oujirou's. She never left home without carrying Hikaru with her; and it was the same with Oujirou and Wizard.
Of course, the Angel never spoke, but in her own way, Misaki must have interpreted some kind of response because she asked her this everyday. How was she? Was she happy? Was anything wrong? And so on.
The air was crisp and Misaki inhaled deeply, the freshness cleansing her lungs as she walked on, carefully slipping Hikaru back into the bag.
And then it happened.
Misaki's petite frame shook with a sudden attack of coughing, her small voice growing hoarser by the moment. She stumbled to one side, bracing her palm against a tree that was conveniently on her way home. She gasped, the air feeling as though it were being sucked out of her like some rogue black hole, leaning more heavily on the tree's side for support.
When it passed Misaki gently and slowly knelt to the ground on her knees, breathing shallowly. Her heart was pounding in an uncomfortable way and it was still difficult to catch her breath, but at least she wasn't hacking anymore. Her hands braced now on the ground, the cool grass felt comforting to her warm hands.
This had been happening for a while now; it was nothing to worry the others about, Misaki thought obstinately. Surely it would clear up. It was only a little sickness or something certainly...wasn't it? She hadn't been exactly counting the weeks but if her estimate was even somewhat correct, these sporadic attacks had been going on for nearly two months.
And as if by way of a miracle, she had been able to keep a lid on it, running and excusing herself to the restroom whenever she felt one coming on or some such excuse.
Misaki absently brought a shaking palm to rest it in a steadying manner over her heart, which seemed to internally shake with it. That there was something wrong with her, Misaki knew. Exactly what it was, she did not know. All she really knew otherwise was that she couldn't trouble the people she loved, especially when Shuuko's health was improving so constantly. She was almost normal. Misaki knew that any news of her own health conflicts would do nothing good for her mother, so she was quiet about it even to her.
Then gradually, she pushed herself back up and slowly made her way on the continuation home, her hands still somewhat shaky, her breath still somewhat unsteady and her mind not at all at ease as it had been before.
When she arrived at the house, she found that Shouko was not there. Shuu of course, was not there either but Misaki didn't mind. She seldom did. It was a blessing enough just to have her mother back again and know she was loved and wanted by that self-same person who had given her life. Besides, Misaki thought to herself as she tentatively climbed the stairs, I don't think I could hide my coughing too well tonight.
If these completely random attacks kept up, she'd have to pretend she was ill just to cover up their oddness; a cold was normal whereas what she had was more worrisome. But she did not know this.
No one knew.
Silently Misaki lay on her bed, staring blankly up at her ceiling. There was a simplistic comfort in the fact that while the world might be turbulent with change, her room would always be the same, stability it offered like a support for her.
Oujirou was also her stability.
Though it was one of her well-hidden secrets, Suzuhara Misaki was not the utterly carefree girl she appeared to be. She had her worries, just like anyone else. She had her doubts, just like anyone else. And she had her problems, just like everyone else.
But they were hers alone and she kept it that way adamantly believing that she must sort them out for herself and not burden anyone else with them unnecessarily. Tamayo or Kotaro, Hatoko or Ringo, Sai or Kaede, all of them would have offered help of course, if only they knew she needed it sometimes, but they didn't.
So thinking, Misaki fell into a restless slumber.
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Across town, Mihara Oujirou was in the Angelic Layer lab, standing in for Icchan while he was elsewhere with Shuuko. It was not difficult, only tedious. He stifled a yawn and then did the same to a threatening sigh. Much rather, he thought lovingly, that I could be with my Misaki-chan.
This set him to thinking about the petite brunette with her wide and loving blue eyes, drawing his less than avid attention from the meeting at hand, to dwelling on her, utterly. Elizabeth Browning, a foreign author to Japan but somewhat brilliant, would have put it the best way Oujirou supposed...how do I love thee, let me count the ways.
He loved her in many ways.
I love you, Misaki, he thought, as a friend, as well as a worthy opponent on and off the Layer.
And I love you simply as you, he finished mentally.
Yet, something had been bothering him for some time now; Misaki seemed to be hiding something, much to his great hurt.
What could she possibly need to hide from him?
What would she be compelled to hide from anyone?
Suzuhara Misaki wasn't the type to conceal anything. And yet he was certain she was. It baffled him to points of great alarm at times. He wondered briefly if he should go check on her on his way home. It would be a bit out of the way, but for her, it was always possible. She was his only way really.
The meeting concluded and he exited the building into the dark night, shouldering his brief case after donning his light jacket of characteristically similar black. The stars were bright and seemed to resonate with an almost wintry effect.
Strange, he thought; it was barely spring. Winter had only just ended. Shrugging, he smiled to himself as he stopped by a flower vendor, buying a small pink rose for his best friend and best love.
It was small things like this that he did out of his own personal pleasure of seeing her face light up as it always did without fail, and then her tackling him in a grateful hug, which he made certain lasted quite possibly longer than any normal hug.
When he approached her house he was somewhat surprised to see the only light on was in her bedroom; Shouko must be working late, he thought. And Shuu is with my brother; Oujirou smirked slightly. Now that he had a clear grip on his true feelings, it was sinfully fun to tease Icchan about Shuu; he made a point to do it whenever the opportunity presented itself.
So she's alone I suppose Oujirou mused a bit sadly; he knew she didn't mind being alone, but he also knew that it was never quite as good as having someone there with you, from knowing her and his own personal experiences.
He knocked on the door and waited.
Upstairs, the "Champion" was laying on her bed still, waking to that very sound. Misaki opened her eyes slowly, rubbing at them a bit. She never quite got used to waking up; it was always as if she were in a dream now, because to her, her life was quite perfect.
"Hai, coming!" she called as she ran down the stairs. Her heart seemed to make the same noise as her pounding feet when she opened the door.
The first thing she saw was the rose, conveniently placed at eye-level.
"Naa!" her usual exclamation of surprise greeted Oujirou and his eyes twinkled in a way Shuu had never been able to make them do.
"Kon-wa Misaki-chan; I just couldn't wait until tomorrow to see you again," he smiled and gently wrapped her small fingers around the flower and let go of it himself.
"A-arigato Oujirou," she answered softly, cradling the flora as if it were as fragile as paper-thin glass.
"Ano," he laughed at her but not unkindly and peeked inside like an uncertain child, making him look deceptively innocent as he asked, "Misaki- chan, may I come in?"
It took Misaki a moment to realize while she was inside and warm he was outside and conversely, probably a sight bit chilly even in the springy weather. She felt immediately abashed and ushered him in with much flustered haste, Oujirou smiling in his particular benign way he always did when he was with her.
It was a special look, more intimate than what he reserved for any Angelic Layer battles or for his many, many fans.
No this was special.
Only for her it would remain.
Casually he walked in behind her, unshouldering his coat and brief case, hanging the former and setting the latter on the floor. He politely excused himself to the bathroom and Misaki smiled and ran to prepare some snacks quickly.
Misaki was happy; of course, who wouldn't be with Oujirou?
Switching on the kitchen CD player, a recent Christmas present from Tamayo and Kotaro, she began to hum and eventually sing to the upbeat tune of Ringo's. It was old, her release from the first year she played Angelic Layer, called "Practice to be an Angel." She remembered when Ringo had first approached her, asking her to sing or as Misaki obligingly did, hum with her. At that moment she was replicating that moment with simple "La" replacing all the words, but maintaining the ever so catchy tune millions of Ringo's fans cheered for.
"La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la..." and so it went on. Misaki was so caught up in it she spun frivolously from side to side in the kitchen, putting some small condiments on a single tray. Still humming, she placed a kettle on the stove for hot water for the cocoa.
To her surprise, she had found some time ago that both she and Oujirou preferred hot chocolate to most other drinks.
So caught up in the moment, humming and twirling at moments through the kitchen while preparing the snack, she failed to notice the Prince of the Layer calmly standing in the doorway watching her in amusement that coupled with compassion perfectly. Misaki came to the last line and was startled to hear a resonant and flawless voice join her in it, matching the melody immaculately.
"It's my angel wing!" Could he do nothing wrong, Misaki blushed furiously, hearing her own voice mingle lovingly with his, melding nicely. She was certain that her voice was positively horrid in comparison. Another thing she was certain of was that if his many fans could hear him sing, they'd not only kill her to get to him, but then instigate a full-fledged war to decide who won him.
"You're so cute Misaki-chan," he smiled at her. She could only smile feebly at him and then hurriedly find much interest in the steaming water on the stove, attending to it with unnecessary care, if only to avoid the gaze that Oujirou was giving her.
She had become accustomed to it, somewhat over the years. The blush was unstoppable, she had learned soon enough but at least they were well enough ignored for them to become more intimate over time.
Together they walked into the living room, Oujirou carrying a tray with the cocoa and Misaki carrying the tray with the complimentary biscuits. No sweet peanuts, chestnuts or pastries here ladies and gentlemen.
They ate in silence that was not at all unpleasant. When it was over though, Oujirou helped clean up and then they were back in the living room. It was dark true, but not terribly late, so Oujirou suggested perhaps they go out. Misaki agreed happily, ready to go out. Twice in one day was a special treat.
Oujirou seldom had such time but tonight was obviously a blessed exception and Misaki was ready to take full advantage of it.
They decided to go to where they had first met, where they often went nowadays, to the local Piffle Princess to practice with Hikaru and Wizard. While for others it was truly hardcore training, the two top Deuses believed in letting their Angels have some fun at times. Misaki was obviously under the impression they would be doing the former though, practice.
Mihara Oujirou thought differently however, which is probably why he discreetly slipped his instrumental CD into his pocket before they left.
It had some lovely piano numbers.
Oujirou was protective of his Misaki, yes His Misaki. He noticed that now that she was older and a well-known Champion of Angelic Layer, she was getting her fair share of more than friendly attention, though she did not notice it. She had retained her childlike cuteness and yet simultaneously grown into a young woman of untouchable beauty. So being, he kept a leisurely arm hooked around hers, thwarting discreetly any boy who might show untoward meanings to his Misaki.
Misaki for her part was happy when they entered the Piffle Princess. Her chest had been tightening uncomfortably as they walked. Blithely she blamed it on the cool breeze outside. And for a few moments, it seemed to pass. They entered their angels into the Layer, set the headsets on, and Oujirou pulled out the music. They began to watch Hikaru and Wizard strike up a dance together, a casual and yet also very close couple's dance of languid dips and soft turns.
In mid spin, Misaki's chest tightened again and she could only just stifle a fit of coughing. In so doing though, she lost concentration on Hikaru who fell out of step and began to wander in a lost manner around the layer. Oujirou's eyes flashed as he glanced over at Misaki through the visor worriedly. She was doubled over, holding her hands to her chest. He was at her side in seconds.
"Misaki, Misaki? Daijoubu? What's wrong?" his voice belied his frantic and deeply worried state of mind. And Misaki immediately felt badly for letting this...this thing get the better of her after being able to keep it hidden for so long. He shouldn't have to be burdened by worry about me, she thought sadly and opened her mouth to reassure him she would be okay. She had forgotten why she had it so tightly clamped shut prior to this though and even as she attempted to draw in a breath of air, she began to cough. At first it was relatively subdued, and then when she couldn't stop, Oujirou found himself helplessly supporting her as the hacking shook her small frame in a frightening manner.
She coughed until she had tears in her eyes and when they finally stopped, she felt oddly exhausted, drained, fatigued. What is wrong with me, she wondered silently as she felt Oujirou lift her in his arms. She was dimly aware of him placing something in her front coat pocket and something in his own before her eyes grew heavy and she surrendered to the welcomed silence of a disturbed sleep.
Oujirou carried Misaki back to her house where he lovingly tucked her into her bed and, sitting vigilantly by her side, picked up the phone and did the only thing he could think to do in this situation with his heart beating anxiously in his own chest, an almost panicked frown on his face:
He decided to call Shuu.
Mihara Oujirou let out a strangled sigh and leaned against Misaki's bedside, covering his face in distress with his hands. What was wrong with his Misaki? How long had she been hiding this as he suddenly suspected she had? Was it seriously detrimental? Could he do anything?
Misaki...his thoughts were utter chaos as he stared at her very still form and absently tucked the blankets in even more closely around her petite form. For now, he thought as he held the phone in his hand and dialed the number he hoped would get him Shuu and Icchan. They were the only ones he could think to call. As though it might give Misaki the connection she needed to stay with him, Oujirou laced his fingers through her own with his free hand.
Her hand seemed to shake ever so slightly and this ever so slight shaking, well, it alarmed him more than words can say.
To say it terrified him would not be far off.
Outside, a soft rain began to cascade down in musical droplets, as though it were crying. And as the other end of the phone signaled a busy tone, the Prince of the Layer could only sit by the Champion Deus, his love and his friend, thinking bleakly that for the first time in a long time, he felt like crying too.
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What's wrong with Misaki-chan? Can anyone help her?
REVIEW to find out what she needs and how much Oujirou loves her exactly, just to keep her with him.
-Kaji Hikage P.S. Angelic High is still in process, next chapter soon, I promise! HA! And I bet you thought it was over. Mwahaha! No such thing!
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It had been almost six years since the day Suzuhara Misaki caused an international upset at the Finals in the Angelic Layer Tournament, replacing the adored "Shuu."
For almost six years, Hikaru had become stronger with her Deus as they trained and improved, gradually, almost invisibly.
For almost six years, the miracle pair had battled their way to the top, time and again, their collective millions of fans multiplying like rabbits.
And for almost six years now, she had regained her mother, Shuuko, gained a surrogate father in Icchan, and in front of untold perhaps thousands of fans and viewers, had been told she was loved by Mihara Oujirou.
Now sixteen, going on seventeen in half a year, Misaki was still as childlike as ever in her natural purity but at the same time, a bit wiser and a bit more mature in the most humble sense of the word. Petite and admittedly, very short, still only coming up to her love's shoulder, Misaki had long since resigned herself to her shortness.
It helped that Oujirou thought her height, or lack thereof, was a very cute aspect of her.
Right now she was making a, she smiled contentedly, a "simple meal." She was to meet Oujirou-san, as she shyly called him still sometimes, for lunch, this lunch, in the park. It had never been broken, her habit of addressing him with the formal suffix; Mihara Oujirou was the Prince of the Layer still, adored by as many people as adored her, always managing to come in at a second or third, depending on whether or not Shuuko entered the competition. He still unintentionally commanded an air of respect and awe, an inspiration of adoration that seemed to congregate around him even as his fans did.
He liked to refer to them as friends, though most of them were female and in such a case, one might have thought the word sorority to suit it better.well, a sorority committed to a guy, and not just any guy, no, the clean and suave Prince of the Layer, the Layer's best mentor. If Seto Ringo was its Idol, and Shuu was its Queen, then what else could he be, but mentor? And it suited him well, Misaki mused thoughtfully as she rolled the rice dumplings in her small hands, careful to add the bits of vegetable in moderately; it stuck better that way. He was endlessly patient with all of them, even the ones, she frowned slightly, who literally threw themselves at him.
Misaki wasn't blind; innocence didn't need to be blind as she proved. She noticed how not a mere few but many attractive females gushed over Mihara Oujirou and how he, being him, was ever benign and polite with them, courteous, the perfect gentleman.
But she trusted him with a conversely clairvoyant faith in her heart that wrested any dispute or doubt in her mind away, to be whisked into nothingness on a wind of smiles whenever she spent time with him.
I trust him; Misaki smiled to herself. Then she carefully finished the lunch, placing the lids carefully on top and scampered up the stairs to change her clothes. She had, for reasons unknown, kept her hair the same as when she was first introduced to the Layer, short. Perhaps it was to remind her of her strength as a small person, her own person, just like Hikaru, who was still her only Angel.
Perhaps she just liked her hair short.
One of the things she loved about Oujirou was that she knew, no matter if she showed up for their outing in a lampshade and oversized sweats and a backwards inside-out shirt, he would still call her beautiful or cute or sweet. And he meant it; the pristine prince did not use words idly with the one he loved, perhaps teasingly at times, but always sincere in the most important of moments.
Still, knowing this, she always tried to look nice for him, even if she felt inside she could never be half as pretty as many of his...Misaki paused and grimaced slightly, "Fans."
Not more than ten minutes later, she ran out the door, bento in hand, leaving a note on the counter for her Aunt. Her mother was gone, staying with Icchan for a short while on an actually extended business trip to do research on her disease. Misaki's smile faded a bit.
They had been able to do surgery not long ago, actually right after her first tournament, and she and her mother had walked together in the snow, as normal mother and daughter might do on a snowy day, smiling and laughing. Neither had noticed the two pairs of watching eyes, belonging of course to Mihara one and two, Icchan and Oujirou. The two had deftly hidden behind a corner as mother and daughter passed, as they were later to tell them through somewhat bashful laughter.
And her mother's health had improved scads.
It wasn't really her mother anymore that was the problem though...
A slight breeze blew through, Misaki's hair swishing in time with it. For the moment, she let it carry away with it, her worries and pushed them away. She might just have been imagining the recent...troubles with herself. She just might.
Approaching the park, her smile returned full-force as she noticed Oujirou sitting there, looking as perfect as a modern-day god, waiting for her, early as usual. He didn't ever want to make her wait, he simply explained whenever she asked or protested that surely he had other things to do. Oujirou would always add that there was nothing more important than her, Misaki, to him. A series of lovely pink blushes would follow and so usually went the greetings.
Today though, she did not ask. She only smiled down at him, for once, as he was sitting and she was standing. Granted, she couldn't look down a great deal but it was a bit of a role-reversal. Then she sat down beside him and once more she only came up to his shoulder.
"Konnichi-wa Misaki-chan," he said, eyes languidly resting on her. Sometimes Misaki couldn't believe he loved her, of all people.
"Konnichi-wa Oujirou-san," she replied cheerily and held out the bento to him.
Not long after, it was gone and they sat in a full and easy silence, perpetually comfortable with one another.
It was an interestingly beautiful scene, picturesque even. Her small frame next to his more masculine but equally lithe one, her childlike beauty next to his immaculately developed sensual appearance.
She was sixteen; he was more than a few years older than her and somehow, it worked.
Love was funny that way.
Almost idly, Oujirou laid his hand lightly on top of Misaki's smaller one. It was a small gesture of affection and yet it had the power to make Misaki feel her heart rate speed up a bit...or a lot. She wondered briefly if it would always be like this.
With Oujirou, she knew somehow, that it most certainly would be.
Remarkable, how closed they were, it was.
Another breeze blew steadily through.
"Ano, Misaki-chan, gomen, I have to leave," Oujirou apologized sincerely. This was normal. He was forever being called off to meetings and things like that. Misaki did not mind. It wasn't in her to hold his work against him, as much as it took him away from her. She had school and Angelic Layer and now, her mother to deal with and watch over anyway.
"Iie, daijoubu! I'll see you tomorrow, ne Oujirou-san?" she smiled as she bounced up off the bench.
"Hai, Misaki-chan," he laughed softly and ever so lightly placed a kiss on her cheek. This was, due to their age difference, as far as they had gone, a small kiss on the cheek. For most of their relationship thus far, it had been more than inappropriate for them to show open affection like that; after all, when they started, she was only eleven. Yet it seemed this was enough for both of them right now. Just as she never pressed him about his crazed fan girls, he never pressed upon her the lack of physical intimacy. This was just as well, for where others saw a mere hug or closeness of the bodies on a bench, there was a warmth invisible to their outsiders eyes.
"Ja ne Oujirou-san!" she waved to him until he was out of sight, and stood there long after, watching the empty space before her he previously occupied so comfortably. Misaki sighed; a sound of fulfillment coming from her that one could only suppose was love-induced. And it was.
Walking home, Misaki produced from her shoulder bag one of her dearest companions, her Angel, Hikaru. The Angel looked brand new, as Misaki was always keeping her in the most watchful care and maintenance.
"Daijoubu Hikaru-chan?" she asked idly. She had not given up the presumably childish habit of having conversations with her Angel. To her, although Angelic Layer itself was a game indeed, made for fun and good-natured competition, the Angels were as real as the Deus. Hikaru was her friend, as she knew Wizard was Oujirou's. She never left home without carrying Hikaru with her; and it was the same with Oujirou and Wizard.
Of course, the Angel never spoke, but in her own way, Misaki must have interpreted some kind of response because she asked her this everyday. How was she? Was she happy? Was anything wrong? And so on.
The air was crisp and Misaki inhaled deeply, the freshness cleansing her lungs as she walked on, carefully slipping Hikaru back into the bag.
And then it happened.
Misaki's petite frame shook with a sudden attack of coughing, her small voice growing hoarser by the moment. She stumbled to one side, bracing her palm against a tree that was conveniently on her way home. She gasped, the air feeling as though it were being sucked out of her like some rogue black hole, leaning more heavily on the tree's side for support.
When it passed Misaki gently and slowly knelt to the ground on her knees, breathing shallowly. Her heart was pounding in an uncomfortable way and it was still difficult to catch her breath, but at least she wasn't hacking anymore. Her hands braced now on the ground, the cool grass felt comforting to her warm hands.
This had been happening for a while now; it was nothing to worry the others about, Misaki thought obstinately. Surely it would clear up. It was only a little sickness or something certainly...wasn't it? She hadn't been exactly counting the weeks but if her estimate was even somewhat correct, these sporadic attacks had been going on for nearly two months.
And as if by way of a miracle, she had been able to keep a lid on it, running and excusing herself to the restroom whenever she felt one coming on or some such excuse.
Misaki absently brought a shaking palm to rest it in a steadying manner over her heart, which seemed to internally shake with it. That there was something wrong with her, Misaki knew. Exactly what it was, she did not know. All she really knew otherwise was that she couldn't trouble the people she loved, especially when Shuuko's health was improving so constantly. She was almost normal. Misaki knew that any news of her own health conflicts would do nothing good for her mother, so she was quiet about it even to her.
Then gradually, she pushed herself back up and slowly made her way on the continuation home, her hands still somewhat shaky, her breath still somewhat unsteady and her mind not at all at ease as it had been before.
When she arrived at the house, she found that Shouko was not there. Shuu of course, was not there either but Misaki didn't mind. She seldom did. It was a blessing enough just to have her mother back again and know she was loved and wanted by that self-same person who had given her life. Besides, Misaki thought to herself as she tentatively climbed the stairs, I don't think I could hide my coughing too well tonight.
If these completely random attacks kept up, she'd have to pretend she was ill just to cover up their oddness; a cold was normal whereas what she had was more worrisome. But she did not know this.
No one knew.
Silently Misaki lay on her bed, staring blankly up at her ceiling. There was a simplistic comfort in the fact that while the world might be turbulent with change, her room would always be the same, stability it offered like a support for her.
Oujirou was also her stability.
Though it was one of her well-hidden secrets, Suzuhara Misaki was not the utterly carefree girl she appeared to be. She had her worries, just like anyone else. She had her doubts, just like anyone else. And she had her problems, just like everyone else.
But they were hers alone and she kept it that way adamantly believing that she must sort them out for herself and not burden anyone else with them unnecessarily. Tamayo or Kotaro, Hatoko or Ringo, Sai or Kaede, all of them would have offered help of course, if only they knew she needed it sometimes, but they didn't.
So thinking, Misaki fell into a restless slumber.
---------------------------------------------------
Across town, Mihara Oujirou was in the Angelic Layer lab, standing in for Icchan while he was elsewhere with Shuuko. It was not difficult, only tedious. He stifled a yawn and then did the same to a threatening sigh. Much rather, he thought lovingly, that I could be with my Misaki-chan.
This set him to thinking about the petite brunette with her wide and loving blue eyes, drawing his less than avid attention from the meeting at hand, to dwelling on her, utterly. Elizabeth Browning, a foreign author to Japan but somewhat brilliant, would have put it the best way Oujirou supposed...how do I love thee, let me count the ways.
He loved her in many ways.
I love you, Misaki, he thought, as a friend, as well as a worthy opponent on and off the Layer.
And I love you simply as you, he finished mentally.
Yet, something had been bothering him for some time now; Misaki seemed to be hiding something, much to his great hurt.
What could she possibly need to hide from him?
What would she be compelled to hide from anyone?
Suzuhara Misaki wasn't the type to conceal anything. And yet he was certain she was. It baffled him to points of great alarm at times. He wondered briefly if he should go check on her on his way home. It would be a bit out of the way, but for her, it was always possible. She was his only way really.
The meeting concluded and he exited the building into the dark night, shouldering his brief case after donning his light jacket of characteristically similar black. The stars were bright and seemed to resonate with an almost wintry effect.
Strange, he thought; it was barely spring. Winter had only just ended. Shrugging, he smiled to himself as he stopped by a flower vendor, buying a small pink rose for his best friend and best love.
It was small things like this that he did out of his own personal pleasure of seeing her face light up as it always did without fail, and then her tackling him in a grateful hug, which he made certain lasted quite possibly longer than any normal hug.
When he approached her house he was somewhat surprised to see the only light on was in her bedroom; Shouko must be working late, he thought. And Shuu is with my brother; Oujirou smirked slightly. Now that he had a clear grip on his true feelings, it was sinfully fun to tease Icchan about Shuu; he made a point to do it whenever the opportunity presented itself.
So she's alone I suppose Oujirou mused a bit sadly; he knew she didn't mind being alone, but he also knew that it was never quite as good as having someone there with you, from knowing her and his own personal experiences.
He knocked on the door and waited.
Upstairs, the "Champion" was laying on her bed still, waking to that very sound. Misaki opened her eyes slowly, rubbing at them a bit. She never quite got used to waking up; it was always as if she were in a dream now, because to her, her life was quite perfect.
"Hai, coming!" she called as she ran down the stairs. Her heart seemed to make the same noise as her pounding feet when she opened the door.
The first thing she saw was the rose, conveniently placed at eye-level.
"Naa!" her usual exclamation of surprise greeted Oujirou and his eyes twinkled in a way Shuu had never been able to make them do.
"Kon-wa Misaki-chan; I just couldn't wait until tomorrow to see you again," he smiled and gently wrapped her small fingers around the flower and let go of it himself.
"A-arigato Oujirou," she answered softly, cradling the flora as if it were as fragile as paper-thin glass.
"Ano," he laughed at her but not unkindly and peeked inside like an uncertain child, making him look deceptively innocent as he asked, "Misaki- chan, may I come in?"
It took Misaki a moment to realize while she was inside and warm he was outside and conversely, probably a sight bit chilly even in the springy weather. She felt immediately abashed and ushered him in with much flustered haste, Oujirou smiling in his particular benign way he always did when he was with her.
It was a special look, more intimate than what he reserved for any Angelic Layer battles or for his many, many fans.
No this was special.
Only for her it would remain.
Casually he walked in behind her, unshouldering his coat and brief case, hanging the former and setting the latter on the floor. He politely excused himself to the bathroom and Misaki smiled and ran to prepare some snacks quickly.
Misaki was happy; of course, who wouldn't be with Oujirou?
Switching on the kitchen CD player, a recent Christmas present from Tamayo and Kotaro, she began to hum and eventually sing to the upbeat tune of Ringo's. It was old, her release from the first year she played Angelic Layer, called "Practice to be an Angel." She remembered when Ringo had first approached her, asking her to sing or as Misaki obligingly did, hum with her. At that moment she was replicating that moment with simple "La" replacing all the words, but maintaining the ever so catchy tune millions of Ringo's fans cheered for.
"La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la..." and so it went on. Misaki was so caught up in it she spun frivolously from side to side in the kitchen, putting some small condiments on a single tray. Still humming, she placed a kettle on the stove for hot water for the cocoa.
To her surprise, she had found some time ago that both she and Oujirou preferred hot chocolate to most other drinks.
So caught up in the moment, humming and twirling at moments through the kitchen while preparing the snack, she failed to notice the Prince of the Layer calmly standing in the doorway watching her in amusement that coupled with compassion perfectly. Misaki came to the last line and was startled to hear a resonant and flawless voice join her in it, matching the melody immaculately.
"It's my angel wing!" Could he do nothing wrong, Misaki blushed furiously, hearing her own voice mingle lovingly with his, melding nicely. She was certain that her voice was positively horrid in comparison. Another thing she was certain of was that if his many fans could hear him sing, they'd not only kill her to get to him, but then instigate a full-fledged war to decide who won him.
"You're so cute Misaki-chan," he smiled at her. She could only smile feebly at him and then hurriedly find much interest in the steaming water on the stove, attending to it with unnecessary care, if only to avoid the gaze that Oujirou was giving her.
She had become accustomed to it, somewhat over the years. The blush was unstoppable, she had learned soon enough but at least they were well enough ignored for them to become more intimate over time.
Together they walked into the living room, Oujirou carrying a tray with the cocoa and Misaki carrying the tray with the complimentary biscuits. No sweet peanuts, chestnuts or pastries here ladies and gentlemen.
They ate in silence that was not at all unpleasant. When it was over though, Oujirou helped clean up and then they were back in the living room. It was dark true, but not terribly late, so Oujirou suggested perhaps they go out. Misaki agreed happily, ready to go out. Twice in one day was a special treat.
Oujirou seldom had such time but tonight was obviously a blessed exception and Misaki was ready to take full advantage of it.
They decided to go to where they had first met, where they often went nowadays, to the local Piffle Princess to practice with Hikaru and Wizard. While for others it was truly hardcore training, the two top Deuses believed in letting their Angels have some fun at times. Misaki was obviously under the impression they would be doing the former though, practice.
Mihara Oujirou thought differently however, which is probably why he discreetly slipped his instrumental CD into his pocket before they left.
It had some lovely piano numbers.
Oujirou was protective of his Misaki, yes His Misaki. He noticed that now that she was older and a well-known Champion of Angelic Layer, she was getting her fair share of more than friendly attention, though she did not notice it. She had retained her childlike cuteness and yet simultaneously grown into a young woman of untouchable beauty. So being, he kept a leisurely arm hooked around hers, thwarting discreetly any boy who might show untoward meanings to his Misaki.
Misaki for her part was happy when they entered the Piffle Princess. Her chest had been tightening uncomfortably as they walked. Blithely she blamed it on the cool breeze outside. And for a few moments, it seemed to pass. They entered their angels into the Layer, set the headsets on, and Oujirou pulled out the music. They began to watch Hikaru and Wizard strike up a dance together, a casual and yet also very close couple's dance of languid dips and soft turns.
In mid spin, Misaki's chest tightened again and she could only just stifle a fit of coughing. In so doing though, she lost concentration on Hikaru who fell out of step and began to wander in a lost manner around the layer. Oujirou's eyes flashed as he glanced over at Misaki through the visor worriedly. She was doubled over, holding her hands to her chest. He was at her side in seconds.
"Misaki, Misaki? Daijoubu? What's wrong?" his voice belied his frantic and deeply worried state of mind. And Misaki immediately felt badly for letting this...this thing get the better of her after being able to keep it hidden for so long. He shouldn't have to be burdened by worry about me, she thought sadly and opened her mouth to reassure him she would be okay. She had forgotten why she had it so tightly clamped shut prior to this though and even as she attempted to draw in a breath of air, she began to cough. At first it was relatively subdued, and then when she couldn't stop, Oujirou found himself helplessly supporting her as the hacking shook her small frame in a frightening manner.
She coughed until she had tears in her eyes and when they finally stopped, she felt oddly exhausted, drained, fatigued. What is wrong with me, she wondered silently as she felt Oujirou lift her in his arms. She was dimly aware of him placing something in her front coat pocket and something in his own before her eyes grew heavy and she surrendered to the welcomed silence of a disturbed sleep.
Oujirou carried Misaki back to her house where he lovingly tucked her into her bed and, sitting vigilantly by her side, picked up the phone and did the only thing he could think to do in this situation with his heart beating anxiously in his own chest, an almost panicked frown on his face:
He decided to call Shuu.
Mihara Oujirou let out a strangled sigh and leaned against Misaki's bedside, covering his face in distress with his hands. What was wrong with his Misaki? How long had she been hiding this as he suddenly suspected she had? Was it seriously detrimental? Could he do anything?
Misaki...his thoughts were utter chaos as he stared at her very still form and absently tucked the blankets in even more closely around her petite form. For now, he thought as he held the phone in his hand and dialed the number he hoped would get him Shuu and Icchan. They were the only ones he could think to call. As though it might give Misaki the connection she needed to stay with him, Oujirou laced his fingers through her own with his free hand.
Her hand seemed to shake ever so slightly and this ever so slight shaking, well, it alarmed him more than words can say.
To say it terrified him would not be far off.
Outside, a soft rain began to cascade down in musical droplets, as though it were crying. And as the other end of the phone signaled a busy tone, the Prince of the Layer could only sit by the Champion Deus, his love and his friend, thinking bleakly that for the first time in a long time, he felt like crying too.
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What's wrong with Misaki-chan? Can anyone help her?
REVIEW to find out what she needs and how much Oujirou loves her exactly, just to keep her with him.
-Kaji Hikage P.S. Angelic High is still in process, next chapter soon, I promise! HA! And I bet you thought it was over. Mwahaha! No such thing!