AN: Yes, I know that this is an update, but not on my fic that's currently in progress. This idea just came to me on a whim, and I couldn't help but start to write it down before it evaded me all together. And to be honest, I have no idea when I'll update "Patient Troubles" next. At the rate that I'm going now with it, I don't think it will get updated anytime soon. In fact, I'm debating on whether or not just to delete it and start again on it from scratch, since it's going nothing like I had originally planned. I'm sorry to all of you who do enjoy it (and especially to TK-Chan!) but when I get into one of my moods about my work, it's hard to get out of it. At any rate, this is a little different from my first couple of fictions (save "The Power of Friendship," since that too was written in first person narrative), and I hope it's liked. ^^;; And of course with me, this will be a Tasuki/Chichiri ficcie with lots of shounen ai or yaoi. So there's your warnings. Now on with the story!
As I look back on it now, I can clearly see that it was all destined to fall apart in the end. But what I didn't see was how greatly it would effect me. Even as I write these memoirs now, I can't help but drift back into the past... Where only the two of us existed. I admit that the whole thing was rocky from the beginning, but the finish... I'm getting ahead of myself. It's always best to start these sorts of things from the actual beginning, ne? So let's start there.
"Houjun? Hey, are you awake yet?"
I slowly opened my eyes, my vision blurry as I lingered in that state of being half asleep yet awake at the same time just enough to give reality a tinge of a dreamlike feeling. Once again that familiar voice that belong to my mother called out to me, dragging me away from grogginess and forcing my mind into gear. I then remembered what day it was. It was the day my parents an I would travel up to my grandparent's house to see our relative in our annual reunion that lasted for one week out of ever year. The one week that I dreaded the most. Now, don't get me wrong. I love my family, but there were ... other things that I would rather do in that week's worth of time. Especially since school wasn't an issue, as it was spring break. And in that particular time, I was well into my last year of high school. I would have liked to use that week for applications and such, but as usual, things didn't work out in my favor.
So, I did the only thing that I could do. I pulled myself out of bed and went about my routine of getting ready like I did every other morning. My first stop: the shower. Then after dressing and brushing my long, azure hair back in a lose pony tail, it was off to the breakfast table. I sat in my designated seat while my father sat in his, nose buried in the news paper, and my mother flitted about the kitchen, putting pancakes, bacon and eggs on plates before serving us, and then getting us glasses of milk.
That was one thing I admired about my parents. They were completely devoted to their role as such, and made my life almost like a movie when it came to that. In all my seventeen years, I couldn't recall a time when the three of us had had an argument, or the two of them go into little tiffs like other parental units seemed to do. And for that, I felt incredibly luck and relieved. I don't mean to come off as selfish, but I tend to be a nervous person by nature, and though I keep a level head, inside I tend to panic when pressure is laid on.
My best friend, for example, goes on and on about how his parents won't let him chose what college he wanted to go to, and how he envies me for having such an "easy going" (as he puts it) Mom and dad. Poor Hikou. I know I would have been stressed if I were in his situation. I truly am fortunate. "Are you all packed and ready to go then, Houjun?"
I blinked as the sound of my mother's voice brought me to the present again. I gave a slight nod and reached for my fork to start on my meal. It was a little strange. Most of the Chinese families that I knew (like Hikou and his parents) still kept our customs even in America and ate our native food and used chopsticks and so on. But I had been raised with American culture, except for at family gatherings like the reunion we were going to. I felt out of place there. Everyone spoke Chinese and used chopsticks, and would often poke fun at my ignorance of my own culture. Which is another reason why I hated the reunions. Ever year I was the favorite scape goat. I could just hear my grandfather's raspy voice in my head, calling me "the American boy that looked Chinese" and then laughing. Usually right in my face.
Of course I was embarrassed. I hated the feeling of not knowing things that should have been second nature to me as it was for the rest of my relatives. But it wasn't, and as I ate my breakfast in silence, I mentally prepared myself for a week of hiding out in the guest room I shared with my parents ever year. There would be one big celebrations where I would have to be present all day, then it would go back to normal where I would only have to show myself at meal times. I didn't mind. Being alone, that is. It would give me time to think more of what sort of class I wanted to major in. Perhaps I could even slip away to take some picture of my grandparent's property. I had a keen interest in photography, and the land that they owned held perfect subject matter. I made a note to myself not to forget the film I had set on my desk in my room the night before.
After breakfast, it was my job to load up the car while my parents went about the house and did last minute checks. I didn't mind that either. There were just suit cases to put in the trunk, and then my bag of personal items that I would use to keep my occupied on the three and a half hour long car ride. That bag consisted of: my CD player, various CD's I liked best out of my collection, and a reading book. I also kept my camera in there along with film. Those were two items that never drifted far from my site. Funny how one little device could shape or break one's life. Man had defiantly become the tools of their tools. "Getting ready for your trip already?"
I turned at that, closing the trunk after shoving in the last bit of luggage and smiled at the sight that stood before me. It was Kouran, the girl that lived a few houses down from me. Her sea-green hair was pulled up in a bun with light, airy wisps that fell down around her perfect face. Her cheeks were stained with a natural rouge, and her bright, blue eyes were framed with long, thick lashes. Her rose colored lips glistened in the light as she flashed me a smile that could out shine the sun. Her shapely body was clad in a gray colored work out suit that hugged the curves of her figure nicely. she was out for her morning jog. I often saw her in the morning on my way out to school, and it was the highlight of my day. She was the most wonderful person I had ever encountered in my life at that point, and I often found myself straying from my set routine in hopes of just catching a glimpse of her during other parts of the day.
Kouran was two years older that I, and attended college in pursuit of her dream of becoming a forensic scientist. She was completely devoted to her studies and was well on her way to a promising career, for she was an intelligent woman. And when she wasn't at school, she was working as a waitress at a small cafe, coffee store that as about a ten minute drive away in one of the smaller malls of the area. I went there a lot on the weekends to visit her. Sometimes we were lucky and got a moment or two where she wasn't so busy serving customers and could actually hold a conversation with me. We've know each other for well over a year, and she knew about my predicament with my family once every year in the spring. She was one of those people who you felt comfortable opening up to. even a reclusive being like myself. Kouran had helped me through a lot and along the course of our friendship, I had managed to develop deeper feelings for her. I just hadn't gathered the courage to tell her so.
"Yes, and as usual, I'm not looking forward to it," I replied grimly. She laughed softly at that, a merry, tinkling sound that was like music. As cliche as that might sound, it was true. Kouran had a magic aura about her that could soften the hardest of hearts with a smile. I was completely entranced.
"Don't worry, Houjun. I'm sure things will be better this year."
"Here's hoping at any rate."
She laughed again and patted me gently on the shoulder, making my heart flutter. "You'll see. Take care, and I'll see you when you get back."
I simply nodded and smiled like an idiot, waving some as she jogged off. I watched her until she rounded the corner at the end of the street and disappeared from sight. Then I gave myself a mental slap that reminded me that I was way out of her league. With a heavy sigh, I leaned against the car and bowed my head, staring at my tennis shoes as I waited for my parents so we could embark on our adventure.
As I look back on it now, I can clearly see that it was all destined to fall apart in the end. But what I didn't see was how greatly it would effect me. Even as I write these memoirs now, I can't help but drift back into the past... Where only the two of us existed. I admit that the whole thing was rocky from the beginning, but the finish... I'm getting ahead of myself. It's always best to start these sorts of things from the actual beginning, ne? So let's start there.
"Houjun? Hey, are you awake yet?"
I slowly opened my eyes, my vision blurry as I lingered in that state of being half asleep yet awake at the same time just enough to give reality a tinge of a dreamlike feeling. Once again that familiar voice that belong to my mother called out to me, dragging me away from grogginess and forcing my mind into gear. I then remembered what day it was. It was the day my parents an I would travel up to my grandparent's house to see our relative in our annual reunion that lasted for one week out of ever year. The one week that I dreaded the most. Now, don't get me wrong. I love my family, but there were ... other things that I would rather do in that week's worth of time. Especially since school wasn't an issue, as it was spring break. And in that particular time, I was well into my last year of high school. I would have liked to use that week for applications and such, but as usual, things didn't work out in my favor.
So, I did the only thing that I could do. I pulled myself out of bed and went about my routine of getting ready like I did every other morning. My first stop: the shower. Then after dressing and brushing my long, azure hair back in a lose pony tail, it was off to the breakfast table. I sat in my designated seat while my father sat in his, nose buried in the news paper, and my mother flitted about the kitchen, putting pancakes, bacon and eggs on plates before serving us, and then getting us glasses of milk.
That was one thing I admired about my parents. They were completely devoted to their role as such, and made my life almost like a movie when it came to that. In all my seventeen years, I couldn't recall a time when the three of us had had an argument, or the two of them go into little tiffs like other parental units seemed to do. And for that, I felt incredibly luck and relieved. I don't mean to come off as selfish, but I tend to be a nervous person by nature, and though I keep a level head, inside I tend to panic when pressure is laid on.
My best friend, for example, goes on and on about how his parents won't let him chose what college he wanted to go to, and how he envies me for having such an "easy going" (as he puts it) Mom and dad. Poor Hikou. I know I would have been stressed if I were in his situation. I truly am fortunate. "Are you all packed and ready to go then, Houjun?"
I blinked as the sound of my mother's voice brought me to the present again. I gave a slight nod and reached for my fork to start on my meal. It was a little strange. Most of the Chinese families that I knew (like Hikou and his parents) still kept our customs even in America and ate our native food and used chopsticks and so on. But I had been raised with American culture, except for at family gatherings like the reunion we were going to. I felt out of place there. Everyone spoke Chinese and used chopsticks, and would often poke fun at my ignorance of my own culture. Which is another reason why I hated the reunions. Ever year I was the favorite scape goat. I could just hear my grandfather's raspy voice in my head, calling me "the American boy that looked Chinese" and then laughing. Usually right in my face.
Of course I was embarrassed. I hated the feeling of not knowing things that should have been second nature to me as it was for the rest of my relatives. But it wasn't, and as I ate my breakfast in silence, I mentally prepared myself for a week of hiding out in the guest room I shared with my parents ever year. There would be one big celebrations where I would have to be present all day, then it would go back to normal where I would only have to show myself at meal times. I didn't mind. Being alone, that is. It would give me time to think more of what sort of class I wanted to major in. Perhaps I could even slip away to take some picture of my grandparent's property. I had a keen interest in photography, and the land that they owned held perfect subject matter. I made a note to myself not to forget the film I had set on my desk in my room the night before.
After breakfast, it was my job to load up the car while my parents went about the house and did last minute checks. I didn't mind that either. There were just suit cases to put in the trunk, and then my bag of personal items that I would use to keep my occupied on the three and a half hour long car ride. That bag consisted of: my CD player, various CD's I liked best out of my collection, and a reading book. I also kept my camera in there along with film. Those were two items that never drifted far from my site. Funny how one little device could shape or break one's life. Man had defiantly become the tools of their tools. "Getting ready for your trip already?"
I turned at that, closing the trunk after shoving in the last bit of luggage and smiled at the sight that stood before me. It was Kouran, the girl that lived a few houses down from me. Her sea-green hair was pulled up in a bun with light, airy wisps that fell down around her perfect face. Her cheeks were stained with a natural rouge, and her bright, blue eyes were framed with long, thick lashes. Her rose colored lips glistened in the light as she flashed me a smile that could out shine the sun. Her shapely body was clad in a gray colored work out suit that hugged the curves of her figure nicely. she was out for her morning jog. I often saw her in the morning on my way out to school, and it was the highlight of my day. She was the most wonderful person I had ever encountered in my life at that point, and I often found myself straying from my set routine in hopes of just catching a glimpse of her during other parts of the day.
Kouran was two years older that I, and attended college in pursuit of her dream of becoming a forensic scientist. She was completely devoted to her studies and was well on her way to a promising career, for she was an intelligent woman. And when she wasn't at school, she was working as a waitress at a small cafe, coffee store that as about a ten minute drive away in one of the smaller malls of the area. I went there a lot on the weekends to visit her. Sometimes we were lucky and got a moment or two where she wasn't so busy serving customers and could actually hold a conversation with me. We've know each other for well over a year, and she knew about my predicament with my family once every year in the spring. She was one of those people who you felt comfortable opening up to. even a reclusive being like myself. Kouran had helped me through a lot and along the course of our friendship, I had managed to develop deeper feelings for her. I just hadn't gathered the courage to tell her so.
"Yes, and as usual, I'm not looking forward to it," I replied grimly. She laughed softly at that, a merry, tinkling sound that was like music. As cliche as that might sound, it was true. Kouran had a magic aura about her that could soften the hardest of hearts with a smile. I was completely entranced.
"Don't worry, Houjun. I'm sure things will be better this year."
"Here's hoping at any rate."
She laughed again and patted me gently on the shoulder, making my heart flutter. "You'll see. Take care, and I'll see you when you get back."
I simply nodded and smiled like an idiot, waving some as she jogged off. I watched her until she rounded the corner at the end of the street and disappeared from sight. Then I gave myself a mental slap that reminded me that I was way out of her league. With a heavy sigh, I leaned against the car and bowed my head, staring at my tennis shoes as I waited for my parents so we could embark on our adventure.