a/n: i think i'm just gonna write one-shots from now on. iunno, i'll probably try to do some multi-chapter shit again but i just don't have the patience for it right now. it's like i'm all for one idea and then i get sick of it and switch to another and then i can't bring myself to do anything with the original idea. iunno, it gets on my nerves.
in other news, i really like friendship fics
anyway, enjoy
HONNE/
Shizuru and I were constantly playing a game. It wasn't a conventional game like shogi or baseball, but rather a endlessly complicated, layered battle of the minds...which, wasn't that different from shogi, actually.
The objective was to penetrate the defenses of the opponent, but rather than bragging rights, the prizes were precious secrets. We were trying to steal each other's innermost thoughts.
As intriguing as it sounded, the game wasn't all that fun.
My mother always told me that a true friend was a person who you could share your darkest, most innermost deeds with, and they wouldn't look at you any differently...as long as it didn't involve them, I guess. I didn't know what Shizuru's angle was, but I always felt that I was playing the game not only to unlock Shizuru's thoughts, but to keep our friendship alive.
The problem was...we both kept moving our pieces, aiming for a breakthrough...only to miss each other completely.
"Natsuki-san doesn't come to see me as much anymore. I'm starting to think that she doesn't want me around."
There was one aspect about Shizuru that Natsuki couldn't stand. She seemed to have her own personal copy of Natsuki Kuga: The Complete Guide, which combined with her naturally exploitative mind, made certain times around the Kaichou particularly aggravating. Of course, there was only supposed to one copy of Natsuki Kuga: The Complete Guide. So, why did Shizuru have one?
For example, at the very instant that Shizuru said "Natsuki", she pushed her laptop to the side about two inches to the side. As Shizuru was saying "see", she flipped a wide swath of hair off her desk, and stared longingly at Natsuki. When Shizuru was finishing her statement, she bridged the tips of her fingers together, rested her chin on them, and gave a heartfelt sigh. Each step was graceful, as if Shizuru had spent a lifetime practicing the routine. Somehow, she knew that this precise formula would result in a light blush from Natsuki. But Shizuru wasn't supposed to know how to do that. Hell, Natsuki didn't even know to do that.
Two could play at this game. Natsuki would act aggravated, and then Shizuru would stop teasing her. Easy. "Don't make me feel guilty, Shizuru-san."
"My apologies. Natsuki-san shouldn't worry about a person such as me."
Damn it.
"I'm sorry, Shizuru-san. I've just been busy, you know?"
Shizuru smiled faintly. "I'm only teasing, Natsuki-san."
Damn it.
"Ara...I wonder how I'll get all of this work done." Shizuru stared up at the ceiling tiles, crossing her legs. "Wouldn't it be nice to be Natsuki-san for a day? To skip school, stay out late, and go riding about on her motorcycle."
Funny. Even Shizuru had desires outside of familial duty. "It's not as easy as it looks."
"I'd imagine not."
Shutting her laptop, Shizuru stood from her seat, a bead of sweat rolling down from her brow. Natsuki swore that Shizuru's delicate skin would start wrinkling by the time she was twenty-five, judging by her daily load of work. School papers, budget reports, marriage proposals; they all had to be sorted and dealt with accordingly. Natsuki knew for a fact that some of the budget coordinators purposely dumped work on Shizuru, solely because Shizuru didn't know the meaning of the word 'no'.
Natsuki truly pitied Shizuru at times. She carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, but didn't have the luxury of raising a complaint, or even showing the slightest frown. The smallest negative reaction could have dangerous reprecussions for her father, and Shizuru wouldn't dare risk bringing shame upon her family. As Natsuki watched Shizuru pack her belongings into her bag, she took note of her motions. The untrained eye would see Shizuru as happy, or content at the very least, but Natsuki knew her better than that. Between those minutes of happiness, Natsuki saw mere glimpses of gloom, and passing moments of melancholy.
Shizuru was far from a pushover, though. She merely had a different, and wholly alien to Natsuki, way of being assertive.
Shizuru hung her bag over her shoulder, finalizing her departure from the room. "Would Natsuki-san mind walking me home?"
"Sure, Shizuru-san." Natsuki made to leave the room, but about two steps outside of the door, she noticed that Shizuru wasn't following her. "Coming?"
"Isn't Natsuki-san going to offer to carry my books?"
"Why? They don't look that heavy."
Shizuru gave a soft sigh, and walked past with a disappointed smile across her lips, leaving Natsuki utterly puzzled.
"What? What is it, Shizuru-san?"
Mother always said: "Keep your true voice hidden." I was around seven years old when I had first heard that adage, so I didn't quite know what it meant at the time. I walked around for weeks doing a high-pitched, squealy rendition of my normal voice before Mother took me aside, and explained the true meaning behind what she had said. That time, I understood, but didn't entirely comprehend it.
Natsuki helped me to understand. Around her, my inner voice wasn't a whisper, but rather a barely surpressed scream. "I love you!" it shouted. "I want to be with you!" it roared. It was an effort to keep it under control, but somehow, I managed. Thinking of my future helped.
But I wasn't the only one that managed to keep her voice reined.
Burning lights illuminated the hillside, fireflies guarding the ghosts that strode across lonely stalks of grass. Shizuru wished she could walk among them, instead of being confined to passing glances through the thin glass of a window.
As the sweet aroma of burning incese floated across the room, Shizuru couldn't help being reminded of attending shrine rituals with her parents. For them, Bon brought back pleasant memories about passed relatives, and painful moments spent in thought about their passing. New Years' ushered in the hopes of a new year, as well as reflections upon the year past. Father and Mother would gather their families to their home, laughing about the good times with the folks whose seats were long empty, while they all drank their weight in sake.
Bon hadn't ever meant much to Shizuru, but she hadn't really lost anyone significant yet. She still attended the annual ceremony at the ancient Fuka Shrine, partially out of respect for her parents.
Most people, even if they didn't attend the official festival, still participated by gathering foods and drinks enjoyed by the deceased around a slow burning candle. Shizuru, not having anyone in particular to wish well in the next life, honored her parents by imitating them. She would gather the things that her parents gathered. The girls at Shizuru's dorm would light their candles in a ring around the building, as if they were about to perform a shamanistic ritual. Afterwards, the girls would gather around in little groups, and see how the other girls had arranged their little shrines. And then they would return to their homework and phone conversations, leaving dying candle flames alone and abandoned.
Kaichou Shizuru didn't have that luxury. She was expected to attend the main festival, forging connections with current and future partners of Fuuka Academy. The headmaster was feeling especially ill today, so she sent Shizuru in her stead, confident that the Fujino name would attract enough business on its own.
Unfortunately, Shizuru's position often prevented her from attending certain activities. When the annual light-show was set off around the shrine, Shizuru was busy entertaining a group of impatient, unpleasable men. They reminded her of bowling pins. Bald, obstinate, and round around the middle; sitting in neat rows of ascending number according to rank.
Shizuru faced the men, sitting under the neatly arranged roses at the head of the room, nearly finished with her long, tedious process of mixing her special blend of tea. A woman had to push and pull, Mother always said. Men were enticed when you dangled a piece of a meat in front of their faces, only to whisk it away at the last second. Shizuru certainly wouldn't think of flirting with the men, of course, but she had discovered other ways of luring them. She took her time in preparing her tea, occasionally casting a shy glance over to the waiting men, whose eyes were wild with impatience.
This event was merely a prelude of things to come. Soon enough, Father would be searching for men for Shizuru to meet, arranging them into neat little cards and sending them for Shizuru to read and review. She was crossing over the threshold of childhood, and becoming a woman. A Fujino in her own right. Shizuru supposed that she should have been excited about it. She'd have her independence from her parents, and, after rooming at a top-rated university before working at an office for a couple of years, become a token member of society.
Shizuru chuckled under her breath. Who was she kidding? She wouldn't be even remotely free of her parents until she had a child's mouth around her teat.
She stood, tea tray in hand, easing the creases out of her kimono with a graceful swipe of the hand. Mother had spent a grueling amount of time explaining the proper way to serve tea. Not spilling, slopping, and splashing tea around were obvious points, but Mother's examples of the proper procedures always went deeper than that. She would take Shizuru by the hand, guiding the cup gracefully to its owner, and then placing it gently onto the tray. Simply dropping the cup onto the tray would send the wrong message to the recipient, and jerky, uncoordinated movements had a tendency to spoil the moment.
For women, Mother assured Shizuru, tea-serving was no more avoidable than death or taxes. Shizuru, somewhat irritably, had always seen tea-serving as the enduring symbol of female suboridination. But who was she to complain? It wasn't as if she was intending on protesting the practice, which would be akin to tossing her future into a box, tying a rock around it, and dumping it into Fuuka Bay. By doling out tea to each man in the room, Shizuru had firmly cemented herself into her expected niche in society.
But did Shizuru want to be in that niche? She still couldn't say for sure.
Shizuru took a seat back at the head of the room, gently placing the emptied tea tray beside her. Then she surveyed the men, taking account of the character and expression of each face, and quickly formulating an overview of the situation. All of them were unremarkable, but then again, Shizuru hadn't ever seen any man in an attractive light until now. As she expected, the majority of them were making a considerable effort not to show any particular emotion, trying to seem as patient and enduring as possible. Shizuru could see cracks forming in the lines of their faces, however. If she didn't act soon, the men would politely retreat from the room, Fuuka Academy would lose a considerable amount of funding, and Shizuru's strong foundation as Kaichou would be comprimised.
The situation was no different than frying fish. Too early, and the spoils would be raw and unpleasing. Too long, and the fish wouldn't be edible at all. The men of the council had to be tempered just right in order to produce the wanted results.
"I do apologize for keeping you gentlemen waiting," Shizuru said, offering a small bow in condolence. "You'll understand that I like to prepare my tea with care. Rushing the process would produce an undesirable taste."
"We understand, Fujino-san." As Shizuru expected, the person sitting at the front assumed the position of speaker. He tipped his tea-cup over his head, savoring the taste. "It was certainly worth the wait."
"I'm glad that Tokaido-sama is enjoying it."
The speaker finished his tea, a wiry smile illuminating his satisfaction as his eyes looked Shizuru over. "The daughter of Dietman Fujino, as I expected, does not disappoint."
"It was really nothing worthy of praise, Tokaido-sama." Shizuru decided to side-step the unsaid portion of his comment, not knowing exactly what to say about it. "I do appreciate his kindness, though."
The introduction of the meeting, as always, consisted of an ever-escalating exchange of pleasantries. Shizuru had researched the group these men represented, which was a fairly renowned, local accounting firm. Even so, it was Shizuru's place to pretend that these men were paragons of their fields, just as they would pretend that her father was a well-respected man-of-action who didn't have a tendency to nod off during Diet assemblies. The process was tiring and tedious for Shizuru, but she knew the slightest frown would spoil the moment.
Shizuru hardly ever had time to frown, in fact. There wasn't ever time in her busy schedule to accommodate frowning, with most of her time consumed by public appearances with the student council and nights at her desk, pining over budget reports and homework.
"Fujino-san, our company has always desired to maintain healthy relations with Fuuka Academy. We see no reason against offering funding for the school." Once the pleasantries were dealt out, Tokaido hadn't required much coercion. It was just as well, as Shizuru had already found herself suppressing a few yawns. "After all, the education of our children is always a sound investment."
"I wholeheartedly agree, Tokaido-sama."
Tokaido nodded. "A wise girl, wouldn't you all say so?" A wave of favorable murmurs swept over the group, though when the men rose gracefully from their seats, Shizuru became confused as to whether the men were agreeing with Tokaido, or comfirming the ending of the meeting. "We'll contact your headmaster about the arrangements once she's rested."
Shizuru stood, bowing towards Tokaido. "Tokaido-sama's support is appreciated."
Tokaido bowed in turn, though not as low. "Of course." He turned to leave, and then stopped in his tracks, as if he had forgotten to say something urgent. "Would Fujino-san mind setting up a meeting between her father and myself. I have a matter that might be advantageous to him...and Fujino-san."
"Of course. I'm afraid that he's probably busy with work at this hour, but I'll see if he's available tomorrow."
"Excellent. I'll look forward to your confirmation."
Tokaido gave Shizuru his business card before he left, which she saw as a promising sign. Her father had enough business cards to make nearly any CEO jealous, but her mother considered herself lucky to have one. Shizuru didn't intend on walking the delicate path that her mother had taken. She wanted to make her mark on the business world before settling down with a husband, which her parents wouldn't object to as long as she didn't make too big of a splash, a scenario which Shizuru couldn't see happening in the first place.
When Shizuru had mentioned an interest in corporate stock and economics to her parents, they probably imagined her delivering papers and tea in an office, struggling to keep the lower hem of her skirt below her knees. Nothing wrong with a woman in the office, they probably thought, as long as she knew her place. They most likely considered a short stint in the office as an opportunity to get a taste of the real world. After all, you didn't need a husband right out of high school. Young adults needed to experience the joys of youth before setting themselves in their selective models of society.
In her parents' mind, Shizuru's entire study of economics at Tokyo University would be conveniently handled and marginalized by a computer program at her office desk. The fact that she had passed the entrance exams with flying colors and graduated at the top of her class would be nothing more than another plaque on her father's wall of achievements, to be bragged about at dinner parties and after-hours drinking sessions.
Her future was bright, to be sure.
After the meeting, Shizuru spent a few minutes cleaning the room. There wasn't much to fuss over besides mislain cups, but out of respect, she dusted and swept away. It was expected of her, after all.
"Shizuru-san?"
A girl stood in the doorway; a cute, blue-haired girl that Shizuru would have thought was Natsuki if she didn't know any better. Her hands were clasped over an elegant floral printed kimono, and her shoes were stuffed into a pair of tight wooden sandles. This girl couldn't possibly be her Natsuki, though. Natsuki dressing up? Inconceivable.
The girl titled her head to the side. "Everything alright, Shizuru-san?"
"Natsuki-san?"
"Yeah."
Shizuru smiled. "Ara, I never thought I'd see Natsuki-san in a kimono. She looks positively adorable." She rested the broom against the wall. "What's the occasion?"
"Bon, Shizuru-san."
"Care to be more specific?"
Natsuki turned away.
"I see. I didn't mean to pry into Natsuki-san's private affairs."
"No, it's fine, Shizuru-san. It's just..." Natsuki's head snapped towards the window, eyeing the lights dotting the hill. "I wanted to see if Shizuru-san would accompany me to the festival ceremonies, since I knew that she'd be conducting business for the school here."
"I'd be delighted to escort Natsuki-san. Though, I've been a little weak lately, so I hope that she won't be too rough with me."
"It's not an escort, Shizuru-san!" Whenever Natsuki's face flushed from embarrassment, Shizuru couldn't help but to suppress a grin. "We'll just be walking to the ceremony together, is all."
"Whatever Natsuki-san says."
Natsuki harrumphed, her soles pounding against the floor as she made her exit. Shizuru followed close on her heels. She would need to calm Natsuki down, before some hapless person managed to set her off at the festival.
Couples, and a few groups of girls dotted the walkway leading to the Fuka Shrine, little more than black stalks against the blinding lights hung around the fun as visiting gravesites with a significant other could be, Bon wasn't typically a couples' event, but it amused Shizuru how the students of Fuuka Academy had shaped the holiday into an event that was uniquely theirs. Some of them were dressed up in traditional wear, and some weren't. With Fuuka's Bon carrying more than its fair share of unofficial amendments, Shizuru couldn't see any harm in leaving the kimonos in the closet.
"Shizuru-san?"
"Yes, Natsuki-san?"
"How's life?"
Shizuru giggled. "Excuse me?"
"I mean, is everything alright with Shizuru-san?"
"Why wouldn't it be, Natsuki-san?"
Natsuki gave a low, irritable sigh. "I don't know. It just seems like Shizuru-san has been a little worried over the past few days."
"I appreciate Natsuki-san's concern, but there's nothing for her to worry about. The Fujino empire is as prosperous as ever."
"And what about the daughter of the Fujino empire?"
"Not as prosperous on her own, but she still manages to get by. Luckily, that daughter has a cute friend to help her out from time to time. She's a little cold on the outside, but deep down, she has a warm, friendly heart."
"Shizuru-san is going to ruin my reputation if she keeps saying that in public," Natsuki said. "Listen, if there's something bothering Shizuru-san, then she shouldn't hesitate to tell me. Trust me, it's not good to keep all your emotions bottled up."
"I'll be sure take Natsuki-san up on her offer one day."
Natsuki took a slow, deep breath, shutting her eyes for a mere moment. "Shizuru-san, sometimes..." Her words faded off the end of her tongue, along with any trace of the smile on her face. "I'm going to visit my mother. Are you coming?"
"Of course. I've been meaning to pay my respects to Miss Kuga."
"Follow me, then." And then Natsuki walked on, probably not caring whether Shizuru actually followed or not.
Shizuru wasn't good at expressing herself. Whether it was a product of her upbringing, or a natural inclination, it was no secret to Shizuru that her innermost thoughts and feelings were encased behind walls of brick. But was it so wrong? Hiding your feelings was no crime. There was no shame in keeping your private thoughts at bay. In fact, her parents probably would have been proud. Shizuru hadn't meant to upset Natsuki, but there were some doors that she wasn't ready to open quite yet.
The sudden twang of guilt playing through her chest disagreed. The vibrations echoed a single, unspoken word. Liar.
Even if it was a crime, Natsuki would be in chains right beside of Shizuru. She wasn't exactly a wellspring of knowledge when it came to the details of her personal life either. Natsuki was constantly using Shizuru's access privileges to the school database for reasons that she refused to disclose, deleting the history so that Shizuru wouldn't find out. And whenever Shizuru asked about it, she received the same answer: 'It's nothing you need to be concerned about, Shizuru-san. If I told you...it wouldn't be good for you, is all.'
The tall, narrow gravestone in front of Shizuru served as a reminder of Natsuki's own secrets.
Natsuki hadn't ever talked about her mother before, except in passing. Shizuru acknowledged that Natsuki's simple act of letting her near the gravesite was a step deeper into Natsuki's own private world, of which Shizuru had barely dipped her toes in. To anyone else, Shizuru would have attributed this to a simple slip of the tongue, but Natsuki Kuga did nothing without good reason.
As the light of the festival fireworks lit Natsuki's face in a myriad of reds, purples, and yellows, Shizuru couldn't help being reminded of a statue. She stared at her mother's tomb, lost in her own thoughts, her ties to the world around her becoming increasingly thin. Natsuki didn't rip the weeds away from the base of the grave, nor did she wipe the dirt from the marble. Anyone else would think the lack of upkeep done to the grave appalling, but Shizuru could tell that Natsuki had her own personal reasons for keeping it just the way it was.
Through a little research of her own, Shizuru found out how Natsuki's mother had died. An old article of a local newspaper detailed Saeko Kuga's death, an accident which had sent both mother and daughter careening into Fuuka Bay. It seemed like a suicide at first, as Natsuki's mother had burned most of her possessions before leaving, but when Shizuru brought it up to Natsuki, she refuted that claim: 'My mom didn't kill herself, Shizuru," she had said, a well of anger bubbling beneath the surface of her even-toned voice. "She wasn't crazy. And why were you snooping around about me anyway?'
If Shizuru hadn't known Natsuki, then the article would have been airtight in her eyes, but something about it, like everything surrounding Natsuki, didn't quite add up. Shizuru couldn't explain her reasoning. She simply chalked it up to intuition.
"Hey. Shizuru-san."
Shizuru's head popped up. "Yes, Natsuki-san?"
"Thanks for coming with me." Natsuki's eyes were still locked with her mother's grave. "It...it means a lot."
"Of course, Natsuki-san."
Natsuki ran her hand over the smooth mable of the grave, caressing it as if she were fluffing her mother's hair. "It helps me, to come and see her once in a while. Give her my blessing, you know?"
"I understand." Shizuru took a step towards Natsuki, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Natsuki-san is oddly talkative tonight."
"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry for bothering Shizuru-san like this."
"No, it's actually refreshing. My Na-chan is finally opening up."
Natsuki blushed. "Don't call me Na-chan." She gave the grave a final sweep of the hand. "I'll be busy all day tomorrow, Shizuru-san."
"I don't imagine that I'll be told about what Natsuki-san be busy with."
"Sorry. If I tell Shizuru-san ― "
" ― Natsuki-san will be putting me in danger." Shizuru smiled. "I can handle myself better than Natsuki-san thinks, I assure her."
"Not in this, Shizuru-san."
As Shizuru had found out long ago, there was little point in pressing Natsuki about her private affairs. Natsuki would relent, in time, to most of Shizuru's requests, given the proper amount of teasing. But when it came to...whatever she did, Natsuki would likely wrench off one of her own arms before telling Shizuru about it.
"Well, if Natsuki-san ever wants to talk, she knows where to find me."
"Yeah," Natsuki said. "the same goes for Shizuru-san."
"I'm afraid that would be a little more difficult for me, Natsuki-san. She isn't as readily available as I am."
This game we played, it was one with no winners. Shizuru knew it, and I knew it. But, nevertheless, it was played. We both kept moving over pieces, running tactics and scenarios through our heads as if one of us would eventually find that game-ending ploy.
I figured the most important thing was, whether or not we were "true" friends or not, we were both still sticking in there, trying to make it happen, trying to keep our relationship, whatever it was, afloat. So, until we parted ways, ended up in bed together, or landed somewhere in-between, we'd keep playing the game. Wasn't much else we could do.
/END