QUESTION: What does the title have to do with the rest of the story?
Disclaimer: The (gorgeous, absolutely droolable) guys from "Mayonaka no Tantei" (i.e. "Night Walker") DO NOT belong to me. *sniffs* They never have and – probably – never will. *bawls*
Warning: This WILL concern a relationship between two MALES. Don't like it? Then don't read it! ~_^
Author's Note: Now what the hell possessed me to write a prologue? Especially when it's the *ahem* next part I should really be worried about?? Yep, I found the poem. It's by Robert Frost. (Anyone know "Stopping by the woods on a snowy evening"? The last lines especially: 'But I have promises to keep / And miles to go before I sleep. / And miles to go before I sleep…') *grins* Plus: It fits in the fanfic. Why? *laughs evilly* 'Cause I MADE it fit. ^ ^ Besides, every (good?) story needs a prologue, ne? ~__^;;
For Once, Then, Somethingby Hotaru Muraki
~ Prologue ~
"Shidoooouuuuu. . . Come on. . ." Guni whined. "You can't be serious about—"
"But I am," I interrupted the little green fairy. She was hovering agitatedly almost in front of me. Stretching a little, I leaned back in my chair. Really! I had risen only half an hour ago and already Guni was nagging! Truth be told, I could almost under-stand her point – somewhere, somehow. If I tried.
Then the door opened and—
"Good morning, Shidou-san!"
Ah, the cavallery had arrived. "And a good afternoon to you, too, Rihou-chan."
I couldn't but smile at her cheerful greeting. Rihou's energetic nature always had taken me by surprise, even when she had been still…human. I would never have believed anyone, let alone a newly 'born' vampire, be capable of so much… compassion. Except…
I reined my erroneous thoughts back in sharply. Now certainly was not the time to—
"Shidou-san, won't you reconsider your decision? Pleeeeeeeaaase…?" Big, imploring eyes gazed up at me.
"Yes, Shidou, please do." With that, Yayoi, obviously the third member of this 'assault party' stepped into my office. "Think of all the fun we could have…" She tilted her head, her long, luscious mane of black hair falling artfully over one shoulder, a startling contrast against her lime-green costume. Laughter twinkled merrily in the back of her blue eyes and her lips were pursed suggestively, teasing me, no, daring me to comment on that.
Those three had obviously conspired against me. I could see that clearly now. Why else would they all pressure me at the same time? Their concern touched me deeply, and yet… Why did I stay? And when I was sorely tempted, really, to just give in to their demands, too?
"Thanks you three. I appreciate your efforts on my behalf, but regretfully, I will have to decline." Why had I decided to stay again…? "I have told you my reason for remaining here: As much as I would like to accompany you three ladies to that onsen, someone has to stay behind in case of an emergency. You never know when another Nightbreed might show up, ne?" Was that my…real reason?
"Well…" Rihou said, hesitatingly. "I can see your point… But I don't have to like it, do I?"
"Much as I hate to admit it, Shidou, you're right. You could, however, at least drive with us to the airport. I would hate to leave my car parked there and that way, you could drive it back. Please…?" Yayoi mock-batted her eye-lashes at me.
Sighing resignedly, I gave up. "As you wish, my dear lady. But…" Smiling slightly, I rose from my chair. "…at least let me get my coat first."
Ducking into my 'bedroom', it took me only a few minutes to reappear again, clad in my usual attire. "Well then… Shall we?"
"Haaaiii…" the three of them chorused.
As we were all moving towards the door of my office, Rihou turned to me. "Shidou-san, the poem we talked about recently…"
"Yes…?"
"I put a copy of it on your desk."
"Ah, thank you. That was very thoughtful of you. I'll read it when I return from the airport." With that last remark, I ushered them out, closing and locking the door.
The draft from that movement picked up the piece of paper Rihou had put on top of the pile on my desk. The paper flew haphazardly upwards, only to be snatched up by an unseen hand. Invisible eyes scanned the sheet and came to rest at the bottom of the page. The invisible hand let go of the paper again, letting it flutter to the floor. . . . .
For once, then, something (1920)
by Robert Frost
Others taunt me with having knelt at well-curbs
Always wrong to the light, so never seeing
Deeper down in the well than where the water
Gives me back in a shining surface picture
Me myself in the summer heaven, godlike,
Looking out of a wreath of fern and cloud puffs.
Once, when trying with chin against a well-curb,
I discerned, as I thought, beyond the picture,
Through the picture, a something white, uncertain,
Something more to the depths—and then I lost it.
Water came to rebuke the too clear water.
One drop fell from a fern, and lo, a ripple
Shook whatever it was lay there at the bottom
Blurred it, blotted it out. What was that whiteness?
Truth? A pebble of quartz? For once, then, something.
An unseen mouth smirked, showing teeth no-one was there to see.
To be continued. . .
