Wishes on Bamboo
Disclaimer: I don't own Liar Game. No kidding.
Author's Notes: I've actually had this story almost completed for almost a year. Just by the time, I finished it, Tanabata season had already passed (not that it's quite here yet, but meh). Anyway reviews of all kinds are welcome. Read, and enjoy.
Akiyama is in the middle of preparing for a plan—and in fact, securing access to a vital component—when his phone rings.
It's Nao, of course, who has become his quasi-girlfriend now that the Liar Game has ended. Quasi, because he can't actually bring himself to admit his true intentions to either her or himself, or demonstrate them in any way, except to see her just enough that she won't think about going out with someone other than him.
"Hey," he answers, "What's going on?"
"Umm...well..." Akiyama can picture Nao blushing. "I was wondering...did you want to come the Tanabata festival with my father and me?"
He does wonder – okay, dwell—for a bit on how Nao would look in a yukata, and considers that it might even be nice to meet up with her and her father and wander through the booths and the festivals together.
But he has plans. "Sorry, already got something else," he says. It's not quite the truth—after all, there's still several more places he needs to check. Although, he thinks, looking around, this place would do nicely. Maybe her call is a sign.
"Oh." She sounds disappointed. Yeah, he expected that, but for a second, it seems like she's actually near tears. "I thought it might be fun if we went together."
He thinks so too. "Sorry," he says again. "I'll take you out next week," he promises. "So go have fun with your father."
"Mm hmm."
He doesn't tell her what exactly his plans are.
That would ruin everything, after all.
The Liar Game might be over, but there's still other—much more pleasant and interesting games—that he can play.
And if all goes right, they'll both win.
For Akiyama, it started when he was around eight years old, the first year his mother let him go to the Tanabata festival alone. Well, she thought he was going with friends, and he didn't tell her that already at this young age, he preferred his own companionship, or at least that of adults who were older and wiser than the average third-grader.
Half of him loved it. His eyes drank the visions of lanterns, of booths, of yukatas and obis of all colors and sizes, and the sounds of chatter and drums. Free of company, he could wander the booths at his leisure, and his mother gave him a little extra in his allowance so he could try more of the games (which even at that tender age, he had a knack for winning).
The other half though...always needed someone with him, as the night darkened and the fireworks were about to burst. And that it seemed, was when his mother would find him.
"Shinichi!" She would call, and Akiyama's keen ears would lock out even the sounds of drums playing and hone in on those syllables.
His mother would wait in the crowd, smiling brightly as Akiyama ran to her. As they watched the fireworks and tied their wishes to the tree (Akiyama always wished to do his best in school, and he always longed to see what his mother wished for), he would tell her everything he saw that night, and all the fun games he played.
At the end of the night, his mother asked, "Did you have fun?"
"Uh huh." he grins. "We should play again next year."
His mother just smiled. And next year, and every year until he graduated high school.
Which is when he figured out why his mother let him go off alone that year, and every year afterward. It was her way of getting to do something special with him, even though she had to work those days.
But the fun of the previous years still infects him.
Another year. Another Tanabata. Nao loves the story of Vega and Altair, or at least is moved by the lovers separated by the Milky Way except on that one night of the year when they are finally allowed to meet again. When the rain comes, she even cries that the stars-crossed lovers will not actually cross stars that year. Yet...
She turns off the phone, and takes a look in the mirror. Her mother's old yukata, swathed in pinks, purples, and golds hugs her body, and that with the purple obi and her short hair pulled up makes her look like a different person. A specific person.
Her father...wearing down, but lasting longer than Nao would have dared hoped for in the previous years, opens his eyes for a bit and smiles. "Natsuko..." His weak hands grab her wrist, and in those clouded eyes, she knows what he sees. She freezes. She tries not to cry. Only on this day, of all others, does her father do this. She hoped, somehow, that if Akiyama came, he'd be able to separate her, Nao, from her mother.
But she can't impose. After all, with the ending of the Liar Game she promised herself that she wouldn't call on him unless she really, really needed him. And this is just a silly holiday. She has to be thankful that her father is still here with her.
"Father..." Nao pulls her wrist away with a minimum of effort. "I'm not her. It's me, Nao."
"Don't worry about it." The nurse, Nakamura-san, who kindly volunteered her assistance so that her ailing father could experience Tanabata, rolls her father away. "The medicine often has this effect on people."
"Yes." Nao says, eyes downcast, and not saying that the problem started before he ever gotten sick.
For Nao, it started the summer after she turned thirteen, the first year she put on the yukata that once belonged to her mother and the last year she and her father had before he became ill. When her best friend Yuki had finished tying the obi, Nao had rushed out to show her father, and ask how she looked.
All the previous years when she'd done the same thing, he'd look at her and smile as a doting father. "Very pretty, Nao-chan." And then he would herd Nao to the house of one of her friends who would let the little girl tag along.
That year though, his smile changed. Her father stared at her, a weight in his eyes.
"What's wrong, father?" Nao asks him, as Yuki discreetly turns away.
"Nothing, nothing. Just for a second...you looked just like her. You're really growing into a beautiful young woman."
For other years, her father would wave goodbye and let Nao play with her friends, but that summer, and every summer afterwards, he would attend the festival as well, always keeping an eye on her, and asking to watch the fireworks with him.
While she was happy to watch the fireworks with her father, especially as it seemed as though each year might be the last one she'd ever get to spend with him, something uneasy formed her stomach during those holidays.
Nao doesn't mind that she looks like her mother, a woman she wishes she could remember, she just wants to be beautiful for herself.
Akiyama figures that he should have an easy time finding Nao, especially compared to the task he gave his mother. He needs to keep an eye for a brown-haired girl in a yukata, wheeling around someone. He's met Nao's father once, and knows that he doesn't have the strength to walk. That in itself will make it easier to spot than an active eight year old wandering around in the crowd.
Plus, there's this instinct he has for her. That punch in his gut that says, "That's her. Right there."
Eh. The part of him that remembers the chase finds this end of it dull. He has a radar for a target who does nothing to evade him. Would even actively seek him out if she knew he was chasing him.
So, he mixes it up a bit and gives his quarry a chance to get lost a little bit.
Plus, he figures, he might as well see if the carnival games are as easy as he remembers from when he was a child.
The night goes as Nao expects. Fun, nice to spend one last holiday with her father and talking with Nurse Nakamura. Her father doesn't call her "Natsuko" again, for which Nao is grateful.
"Festivals are fun." He smiles, "We should write down our wishes. Nakamura-san?"
The nurse bends down and her father whispers it into the nurse's ear. Nao can see the effort her father must muster to even speak even if she can't hear the words. Maybe they should have stayed at the hospice and celebrated there. Just, she thought, maybe there would be a small hope of meeting him here.
Nakamura-san stands up, nods and writes Nao's father's wish and ties it to a tree.
Nao's too busy writing her own impossible wish to snoop.
Then, she figures, it's time to go play some carnival games. She always loses, which is weird because the people ahead of her always seem to win. Yet no matter how much she tries, she can never prevail. People are nice enough to give consolation prizes after the seventh or eight time in a row you lose though.
And she has fun, which is what matters.
Only, perhaps it's all the games of last year that have left an unpleasant but indelible mark on her mind, but Nao begins to wonder if these games are fair at all.
By the time he's ready to look for Nao, with the skies darkening above them and the lanterns glowing above the sea of people, Akiyama has his hands full of little trinkets, when he spots her in the crowd. It's a holiday, but she seems out of it, kind of downcast.
Hearing the conversation he can guess why.
"Natsuko, the fireworks are going to start soon. We should get going."
The old man grabs Nao's hand, and she pulls away, not unkindly. "Father...it's me Nao. Your daughter."
"Don't worry about it." The other woman—a nurse?—takes the wheelchair from Nao and rolls it slightly ahead. "It's probably all the medicine making his head fuzzy again."
Nao nods and tries to smile. To ordinary eyes, it might look like she's dismissed that memory lapse, (Akiyama assumes that Natsuko must be the name of Nao's mother) but to Akiyama, who knows the mental and emotional dictionaries (albeit the abridged editions) of Nao Kanzaki from cover to cover, something is very wrong.
Now might be the time to make his presence known.
He follows them for a few stalls, listening to them talk randomly about dumplings, takoyaki, lanterns, paper kimonos, and origami cranes until they reach a booth. Bottles stacked in a pyramid. Three tries for 500 yen. Knock them down and win a prize.
Nao pays the price, and tosses the ball. If the game had been fair and the bottles not weighted, her throw would have knocked them down. Oh. Akiyama knows this trick, one of the 'knacks' he figured out when he was in elementary school. After she throws two and loses, he steps forward.
"Aim for the bottom, not for the middle." He whispers into her ear. She turns and and gasps at him. Of course, as soon as he can see her, he's too stunned to say anything. Just...he's not used to having his breath taken away from him in a pleasant way. She looks almost elegant with her hair pulled up, and the light of the lantern gleaming off the shining gold threads that outline the purple flowers. And she does look good in pink. Just light and feminine and airy and floral, and ready to be dragged out to some scenic overlook and kissed. All that's missing is her trademark smile, and maybe he can give that back to her.
"The bottom?" Nao asks.
Akiyama nods. At least, he doesn't have to repeat his instructions, the words would get clogged in what seems to be the infinite space between his mind and his mouth.
She nods back, and turns back to the booth. She bites her lip, an adorable sign of concentration. She tosses the ball, and the bottles topple. Nao dances, and both her father and her nurse smile indulgently.
"Pick your prize young lady," the stall-owner asks her. She looks up, and Akiyama sees the gleam of silver. A little heart-shaped necklace. Then she looks at her father. "What would you like?" When he points to a lucky cat figurine, Nao picks that instead and hands it to him."
He nods and smiles. "I'll put it in my room."
Nao smiles back, it's genuine, but a little wistful. "Maybe it'll give you some good luck. Thank you, Akiyama-san."
"Nao, take a walk with me."
"But my father..."
"I'll be fine, Nao," he smiles, "Go off and enjoy yourself. Nakamura-san will keep me company."
"Are you sure?"
"Nao. Your father will manage without you for a couple hours. Go spend some time with your admirer. I'll make sure your father gets home safely."
"He's not my..." she trails off.
Akiyama doesn't say anything. Oh he's admiring her, of course; he just doesn't tell her that. "You wanted to spend some time with me. Come on."
Nao gives one last look at her father, before she goes to Akiyama's side. "Yes."
Experiencing Tanabata from Akiyama's side, her first one with anything close to a boyfriend or a lover (it seems like he doesn't actually want her, until someone else starts flirting with her, and then he's very attentive), is completely different from a group of friends or her father. For one, she can feel Akiyama's gaze on her, plus he does look dashing in summer yukata.
"I thought you had plans."
"I did." He smiled. "I never said they didn't involve you."
He's being obtuse.
"Akiyama-san..."
Akiyama stops at another game, puts 500 yen down. And throws the rings. Nao can't tell how he does it, but all of them seem to find their targets, whereas, when Nao tries, she always ends up losing. "Pick your prize."
"That" he says, without hesitation. The booth owner takes down a prize and passes it to Akiyama. "Turn around," he whispers to Nao.
A thin chain of metal touches her throat. He's always been good at noticing those silly little things about her, that she had her eye on some little trinket. He closes the clasp and turns her around. His arms on her shoulders are warm, and for a second, her breath catches. Is he going to kiss her?
Secretly she hopes so.
"Thank you..." she says.
Yes, this is completely different than any other Tanabata celebration.
He holds out his hand. "Let's go."
Tanabata is a time for writing wishes and poetry on paper, and tying them to bamboo stalks. The adult Akiyama has a few issues with the tanzaku tradition. First, he fails at poetry. His genius relies mostly on math skills, keen observations, social sciences, but arts and aesthetic expression elude him. Second, he doesn't wish. He plans. He prepares. Wishes are an admission of powerlessness. That all you have is an idle desire. And while he doesn't hate or prey upon the helpless, he's been helpless and hated every pit of it.
And he's never going back.
So, while Nao watches (she refrains from making a wish) he writes his plan, the one that he's finally decided on, with his right hand while his left hand shields it from her. And when he ties it to the branch, he does do a little snooping. To see what lies in the hearts of others.
Or a few people more specifically.
He reads their wishes, the Kanzaki family's, that are fluttering in the summer breeze. They're both written in neat little script. When he reads each of them, he finds himself a little shocked.
According to his plan, both wishes will be granted.
They wander the streets, until the crowd begins to melt away. Akiyama knows what he's doing, has planned this for over a week.
"So, Akiyama-san," Nao speaks up, "if your plans tonight involved me, why not have just met up with me at the beginning?"
How does he explain...the game, the puzzle he made for himself does seem childish right now. He shrugs, "Because finding you was part of the plan." Maybe, Nao, so stupid and naïve and trusting will buy just that, and he won't have to explain.
"Akiyama-san...it would have been nice to have just spent time with you." There's that downcast expression again, the one that Akiyama decides must be annihilated off the face of the earth.
They're in a fairly isolated place now, not quite his final destination, which is a few buildings down somewhat higher. Except for her, no one is around to hear them. "When I was a child," he tells her, divulging memories he's reluctant to admit, "I used to go to the Tanabata festivals alone. Wander the streets, play the games, all the fun stuff. But we had a family tradition, my mother would come later and search for me in the crowds. I don't know how she did it, but she always found me. I wanted to see how she could do it."
"Ahh." Nao looks thoughtful. "It's maternal instinct."
Humans don't have much in the way of instincts, not the way animals do, and most of those get burned out after infancy ends and society takes over. Gut feelings on the other hand, intuitions borne from signals unconsciously received, those he can believe in.
"Maybe," he says. He reflects on those days, from the point of view of an adult. Nao's trustworthy. For all her open honesty, she knows how to be discreet. So, with all the effort that it takes, he confides in her. "She worked so much though, I think she just wanted to find a way to spend time with me at Tanabata without me missing her too badly." He leaves it at that. No point in going into any more detail.
"So," he takes her to a building, and opens the door, "Let's go."
The door Akiyama opens leads to a concrete stairwell. Together, with Akiyama in front, they climb up four or five flights of stairs, until they reach the deserted rooftop. Beneath them the crowd flows beneath soft illumination of the lanterns. Watching the festival from up here is a different perspective, one that Nao's never really had before. She's always been on the ground, part of that mass of people.
"How's the view?" He asks, keeping his hand in hers now that they're alone. His hands are strong, made rough by physical labor.
"It's beautiful."
"So tell me, Nao." His expression is earnest, "what's going on?"
He doesn't let her run from her emotions, does he? "I'm very happy." She says. She's not lying, perhaps not telling the whole truth, that she can feel so happy and so sad at the same time. That this has never been a joyful day for her.
"You might fool your father and his nurse, but you've forgotten one thing: I know you better than they do. Something about tonight is wrong."
"It's really petty." She can't believe she's about to admit her selfishness to him, the silly little vanity she has, that's tainted Tanabata for the last six years.
He smirks. "Try me. I promise I won't laugh."
The secret feelings she's kept harbored for years come pouring out. "This was my mother's yukata." Nao whispers, "every year I've put it on, since I turned thirteen, I've stopped being Nao in my father's eyes. He used to look at me, and tell me I looked very cute in my kiddie yukata. Very paternal. I think every little girl wants to be a princess in her father's eyes. I know I enjoyed it. But that year, he just stared at me, like he was seeing my mother again. Every year after that as well. And this year...it seems like he can't tell the difference anymore. Sometimes, he treats me like a daughter, but he called me by my mother's name twice tonight. It's horrible, because I don't know how much time I have left with him...I shouldn't feel like this. But I think, just once, I want to be beautiful for being Nao, not for being the spitting image of my mother."
"It's okay," he says, "just please...don't cry."
Their eyes meet. Even Nao knows it's cliché, as his warm, intelligent eyes gaze down upon her. His hand goes to her waist, and for a second, she's positive—or at least hoping—that he'll kiss her. Even with him, she's never felt quite like this.
But neither of them move. Instead, Akiyama speaks.
"Nao," he says, "I saw what your father wrote down as his wish, and what he wants more than anything in the whole world is for his daughter, Nao, to be happy and cared for when he's gone. He knows you're not your mother. Have more faith in him."
Nao laughs. Akiyama, telling her to have more faith in someone. The absurdity of that statement, its reversal in their dynamic distracts her long enough that she almost misses the rest of his speech.
" And more than that, you are beautiful. I'm sure, by virtue of the fact that you take after her, that your mother was beautiful too, but you're the one I searched for tonight. I found you." He places special emphasis on the word "found" as though it implied a claim.
Yes, yes he did.
Akiyama has never actually told Nao that she's beautiful. Well, he's never felt the need to before tonight. Her being beautiful, well...to him, it was similar to the sky being blue, an obvious truth that doesn't need stated again and again. Or really just stated at all, because it's clear to anyone who looks. Or at least to him. Who cares what anyone else thinks?
But if the sky were suddenly not just blue, but BLUE, and the sky were somehow unaware of exactly what shade it was, and if by confirming it's location on the spectrum all of the lingering clouds could get blown away as though the puff of air escaping the lips were really a strong wind, then perhaps the obvious does need stated.
Or, to put it simply, complimenting her might actually be strategically sound.
"Akiyama-san..."
He remembers what he read on her wish: I want to see the fireworks with Akiyama-san.
"Shh..." he says, "the fireworks are starting."
He found this particular perch last week while he scanned the nearby area for likely spots. And from here, they can see everything, even fireworks from other towns, and yet the fact that there's no elevator in this building made it all but deserted. Just perfect. All around them, the sky begins to explode in multi-colored wheels of sparks.
Akiyama planned this night perfectly. And now, he was going to take his reward, the object of his plan, the mark that it has been fulfilled (although not without its hitches).
Without giving her warning, he leans forward and kisses her.
Nao feels the brush of his lips on hers. They've kissed before, good night kisses at the end of their dates, before they see each other off. Kisses that Nao herself has initiated that never become more than a quick pressure on the cheek or the mouth.
She hasn't been kissed like this. Nao wraps her arms around his shoulders (else she'll fall), and lets the sensations overtake her. The sky echoes the feeling in her heart, colorful, bursting, beautiful. Suddenly, she's very, very warm, even worse than one might expect from a muggy summer night (plus it wasn't really that hot to begin with).
Akiyama pulls his head away, but his hands never leave her waist.
They stay like that until the cacophony fades away and the lanterns begin to go out one-by-one.
"So...how's that?" He's smirking. How can Akiyama be so unaffected by a kiss that leaves Nao wobbly in the knees and ready to collapse in a pile at his feet?
"Good..." Nao says, words inadequate to express how it really was.
"What you were wishing for?" He asks.
"How'd you...?" Did he just do that because she wished for it? Oh. Nao sees what he did there. "You read my father's wish on the bamboo, so you must have read mine as well." So that's why you took me up here?
He shakes his head. "I planned that for a while now. Checked the roof access for all buildings within a block or two of the main festival, and this was the best. I did read your wish, but you can imagine, he smirked, how nice it was to see that my efforts would be appreciated."
Nao blushes. Everything seems so silly now. She should have chosen a larger wish, like world peace or ending hunger. "It's really not a good wish, is it?"
"Not at all," he says taking her hand. In the light of the moon, Akiyama just seems to exude a pale glow. "Small wishes can be granted after all. Things like world peace are worthy goals, but just wishing for them isn't going to make it happen."
"What did you wish for, Akiyama-san?"
Is that the faintest trace of a blush she sees? "I don't wish. I plan."
Nao's not fazed. If there's one thing she's learned from dealing with him, when he shows his embarrassment, she's on to something. "So what plan did you make?"
He puts a finger to his lips. "I can't say anything right now, but I will make a promise. If everything goes well, the wish you made tonight won't be the only one granted." Akiyama lets go of her hand and heads downstairs. "Let's hope that your father isn't waiting out in the dark for you."
Panic courses through her. "I wasn't thinking about that..." She follows him, as fast as she can go wearing yukata and sandals. "I was a little distracted, Akiyama-san."
He smirks.
Her phone rings. "Hello?"
"Nao-san." Nakamura's voice says from the other end of the line. "Just letting you know that your father is back in his room safely. He suggested that we should let you and your friend enjoy the evening together. Your father also wants you to tell your friend to behave himself." Nao's blushing from the bottom of her neck to the roots of her hair.
"What?" Akiyama asks as he turns around. "Something wrong?"
Nao shakes her head. "Ahh..umm...I'm sure he will. Thank you for taking care of my father."
"It's not a problem." Nakamura says.
They hang up.
"What was that?" Akiyama asks again.
Oh he's going to make her admit it. "Nakamura-san just let me know that my father is back in his room safely."
"And?"
She wishes she was better at lying to save her own skin. "And...I'm supposed to tell you to behave yourself."
"Oh." Akiyama blinks a few times. "That's it? He shouldn't worry. I'll make sure you get home safely."
They walk the streets together, becoming one with the dispersing stragglers. They don't touch, don't give any public sign of what they shared privately only a few minutes ago.
She knows.
"Ne, Akiyama-san?" They spend most of the walk home in silence. "The ...the kiss...did you enjoy it?"
"What?"
"Did you enjoy that kiss?" Nao repeats her question, this time in a stronger voice. They're almost at her door now. How can she leave tonight without knowing if she's the only one who felt that way?
He turns around and stares at her. "Don't ask such silly questions. Can I be honest with you?"
Who's asking the silly questions? But Nao just smiles. "Of course you can."
He leans into her, his mouth close enough to her ear that his breath sends shivers down her neck and spine. "Many more kisses like those, and I won't be able to promise my good behavior."
His words sink in and spread warmth throughout her body. How horrible is she that she's ready to test that statement of his? Doubt it, examine it, force Akiyama to prove it true or false. But she doesn't, not yet. She just gives him a quick brush of her lips on his cheek. "Good night, Akiyama-san. I really enjoyed tonight."
"I know," he smiles his warmest smile at her. "Rest well."