A/N: Hello everyone! For those of you currently reading my first fanfic, "Snapshots," this is the special something I promised a few weeks ago :) For those of you who aren't, this has nothing to do with my other fanfic, so feel free to read on please ^_^ (as well as browse "Snapshots" lol).
This story is partly inspired by my Takeru chapter in "Snapshots." I originally conceived this story as a oneshot, but while I was working on it, I realized that I wanted to do so much with it that I couldn't cram everything into one chapter... so this is the end result ^_^' Since I'm still working on my other fic, I think I'll update biweekly, but we'll see. Enjoy, and please leave a review if you have time! Thanks! :)
Chapter One: The Meeting
A manly slap came down on the distracted employee's back, evoking a huge yelp to equal the sudden pain.
"What was that for?" Ishida Hiroaki, the offended, demanded. The offender merely grinned mischievously.
"Sorry, buddy, but I had to keep you from drooling on the counter again. You know Boss doesn't want smears on his counters."
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Wiping the corner of his mouth, the irritated man quickly made his way to the stock room and went to work sorting the new shipments. His friend and coworker followed.
"You know," he continued slyly, "you're not gonna get anywhere if you just sit and stare. Why don't you get out there and say hi? Ask if she'd like to grab some coffee or something. Anything besides staring from a distance day in and day out like a creepy stalker or a dirty old man!"
"It's not like that," Hiroaki grumbled as he ripped open another box.
"You act like a possessed zombie from 4:30 to 6 every day, ever since April!"
"March, and she usually leaves at 5:45..."
"You see? This is how stalkers start out! They see someone they like but refuse to get close because they're shy or whatever crappy excuse they have. Then, they start fantasizing about that person and get all possessive because they're disillusioned by they're fantasies and mix them with reality. Then they deteriorate, starting with their mental health, and then their physical health, and pretty soon, their emotional health goes down the tubes, too. They've completely lost it, all because they didn't want to engage in friendly conversation with the object of their affections! And then, it gets really messy when a third wheel shows up. Have you ever seen those American mystery shows, where a girl's being stalked and then gets a boyfriend for protection, but then the stalker-?"
"I know! I know! Okay, I get your point!" he yelled, throwing his arms up in frustration. After exerting a few short breaths to calm himself, he sighed a pitiful sigh filled with defeat and confusion. He wore a face to match his feelings. "I guess I should do something soon."
His friend placed a caring hand on Hiroaki's shoulder.
"I'm just looking out for you, buddy. Back in a flash!"
Without another word, he dashed out of the stock room and through the front door - jingling the bells on his way out - leaving Hiroaki completely alone to contemplate his thoughts. Sighing again, he leaned against the shelf behind him and slowly slumped onto the floor. He was exhausted, although not from work. It was a much more taxing, more serious matter that drained his energy so quickly.
Nearly a year had passed since he had gotten a job at this record store, thanks to his friend's recommendation to Boss. It had been a way to get back on his feet after the band disbanded, but it was also an easy escape when life threw lemons his way. Whenever he felt like it, he could pop in a demo - whatever he wanted - and let the music calm his nerves, helping him forget the stresses of reality. All for free. It wasn't a perfect life, but it was certainly a relaxing one, much more so than the one he had chosen right out of high school. Maybe he was a simple man after all.
The trouble started at the beginning of March. It was sleeting, and the record store was empty, as it was more often than not. His friend was out back smoking, leaving Hiroaki to tend to the front and whatever customers - if any - came in. As if anyone would be out in this weather, he had told himself, yawning.
With his mouth wide open and his eyes clamped shut, he heard bells jingling. He shuddered from the blast of cold air that escaped through the open door, but as soon as it slammed shut and all was quiet again, he noted a change in the sounds of the store. It sounded like someone panting. Finishing one last yawn, he forced himself to open his droopy eyelids.
From the looks of it, she was a foreigner no older than 21. Her golden hair dripping wet, she gripped her blue-print Mackintosh coat tightly. The hem of her skirt was completely drenched, as were her leg warmers and ballet flats. One might say she looked pitiful after running through all that precipitation, but there was something about her that still made her seem radiant. Hiroaki thought so, at least.
"W-welcome," he stuttered in English, not knowing what nationality she was. She must not have noticed him when she came in, because she startled at the sound of his voice. Her look of bewilderment as her blue eyes met his brown ones was still attractive.
"Excuse me," she said in perfect Japanese, "I didn't see you there."
"No, not at all!" he stumbled over his native tongue. "C-can I help you with anything?"
"Actually," she began, shuffling her dainty feet, "I was just looking for a place to get out of this weather, but if it's a problem, I can go somewhere else."
"No!" Hiroaki practically yelled. "No, it's fine, you can stay here as long as you'd like! It doesn't bother me!"
Her sheepish look suddenly transformed into a beautiful smile as she thanked him; he never thought it possible, but the dark corners of the back wall, a place where even the sun's rays never touched, were lit up with her natural warmth and glow.
Hiroaki was completely oblivious to the opening and closing of the heavy back door, although he came to his senses a bit when the smell of smoke reached his nostrils. His mind fully returned to Earth when he saw his friend approach the drenched woman so easily.
"Hello there, madame," he greeted in a strange accent. "Might I help you with anything? Perhaps you are looking for an orchestral recording by a one Leonard Bernstein? Or maybe you are interested in the romantic sounds of Europe? Or could it be that you have a new age taste for J-pop?"
"Actually," she replied with a smile, "I'm just waiting out the rain."
"Oh?" He leaned in closer and took her hand in his. "Might you be French, madame?"
"Yes. Yes I am!" she answered, blushing at his observation. "How could you tell?"
"Ah, you see, women of all nationalities are beautiful, but there is a certain beauty that is unique to the French. I see it in your eyes. My name is John, but for you, I can be Jean." He kissed her hand. She giggled. Hiroaki wanted to slug his friend; he was such a flirt!
The two of them spent the better part of fifteen minutes talking about whatever popped up - baseball, national landmarks, the great coffee across the street - all of which Hiroaki chose to ignore out of annoyance. Before long, the rain let up, and the young woman waved farewell to the two employees. And even though they had exchanged only a few words, she had left quite an impression on Hiroaki, so much that he couldn't stop thinking about her, especially when she began frequenting the coffee shop with a friend not long after. Needless to say, Hiroaki was a fool for her.
The jingling of bells and the sound of running feet snapped Hiroaki out of his daydream. Looking around, he saw John - now called Jean - run in with a coffee in each hand.
"Customers, Hiro! We have customers!" he announced excitedly. "Get in there and take care of it!"
"You take care of it," he said nonchalantly.
"Why? So you can stay back here, drooling and daydreaming about your beloved? Get out there or I'll kick you out there!"
Grumbling, Hiroaki got off his butt - remembering the last time his former-soccer-star friend resorted to the latter option - and proceeded to the front.
"Hello, welcome to Best Records! Can I help you-"
Jean might as well have kicked him, because Hiroaki suddenly felt the wind knocked out of him, and his lower half became paralyzed. The customers - holding their half-finished coffee mugs - were the French woman and her friend!
"Hi," the French woman greeted with the same radiant smile, "long time no see."
"Y-yeah!" the stunned man returned.
"How have you been?"
"Great!"
"That's good to hear. I don't think I introduced myself properly. My name's Takaishi Natsuko. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Even with the many times he had written and answered to his name, he - for the love of Buddha! - could not bring himself to hold it in his conscience long enough to utter it. All he could do was stand there, frozen like a statue, feeling like a complete idiot.
"This here's my good buddy, Ishida Hiroaki!" Jean joined in, saving the poor man from further embarrassment. "You'll have to forgive him. He gets a little tongue-tied around strangers."
Natsuko and her friend giggled.
"Well, I don't think we're strangers anymore, Hiroaki-san," Natsuko said, still smiling.
"Say girls," Jean began, "Hiro and I have Saturday off. How would you two like to join us for some coffee? Say, around one, across the street?"
"We'd love to!" came the simultaneous reply.
The rest of the conversation went by in a blur. The next thing Hiroaki knew, Natsuko was waving goodbye to him again, only this time, she called him by his name. After the front door closed behind them, Jean slapped his friend on the back again.
"You can thank me later," he said with a cheesy grin and retreated to the back room. Hiroaki remained standing at the counter, his mouth hanging open and his blank eyes fixed on nothing in particular. A cursed bead of saliva mercilessly dropped onto the countertop, smudging the flawless glass. He just continued standing, dumbfounded, until the overwhelming shock pushed him like a wave onto the floor with a gigantic thud.
A/N: I imagined this taking place sometime in the 1980's, hence the record shop location. I was born in the 1990's, so I'm just guessing at this decade. I apologize for any inaccuracies I have and may write ^_^'