My first submission... Thanks for reading and reviewing!
I never should have let myself get dragged into this, Soubi thought angrily as Kio stood and waved for the bartender again over the din of the crowded bar, the glasses starting to line up in front of them. Four rounds gone and he's just getting warmed up. I'll be carrying him home tonight. The semester was quickly grinding to a halt, and Kio had insisted that they celebrate. Soubi's paintings had arrived in the university's main gallery this morning, and they had spent the better part of the day meticulously arranging the six featured artists' works so that each one had the best possible presentation, sculptures and ceramics carefully positioned on matte white pedestals, stark black and white charcoal sketches, exquisitely detailed intaglio prints, massive tapestries sewn in red and gold (the unusual contribution of a fifth-year fibers student), and through it all the quiet beauty of Soubi's watercolor butterflies. Oh, the hell with it. Soubi reached out a pale hand for his refilled glass.
At the far end of the bar, a mousy brown tousle of hair and fur rested on the waxy mahogany surface, face hidden in the crook of her slender arm, buried behind a glass wall of her own. It's Saturday night, I should be having fun. Hitomi's friends had invited her out, sensing her slow withdrawal from social behavior, and they had bought her the first two rounds, trying to coax the gentle prude out of her shell. At first it had worked, she laughed and twittered at her companions' stories as the alcohol took effect, troubles forgotten and just enjoying herself. But then the two blond men had arrived. Her drinking increased and mood became increasingly sullen, her attention straying from the conversation, her eyes perpetually drawn to the taller and younger of the two men. When her friends decided to leave and go to a movie, they were almost relieved when she said she wanted to stay behind, insisting she would be fine walking herself home.
Soubi set his half-drained pint gently in the center of the cardboard coaster, the corner of his lip just hinting at a bemused smile, finding it ironic that the proprietor would bother with coasters when the wooden bar was already so thickly coated in sticky grime, evidence of years of booze and smoke tar. Soubi shook a cigarette from his slightly crumpled pack, lifting it to his lips, the texture and taste of the paper so familiar, then bowed his head to light it, habit cupping his long-fingered hand around the trembling flame. He breathed in, the sweet flavor flowing over his tongue, lungs filling with the acrid smoke. He closed his eyes as he lowered the lighter, the tiny click as he released the trigger inaudible over the noise of the crowd, and dropped it onto the bar. He listened with one ear to Kio's animated conversation with the cute girl beside him, the plans for his art and his gallery; I've heard it all before. He leaned his head back slightly, his long silky hair falling away from his shoulders, and the smoke curling from between his parted lips as he looked up at the shadowy ceiling, vision slightly impaired even with his glasses and the alcohol only serving to make it worse.
Hitomi drew herself to her feet, screwing up her courage. Just go talk to him, that's what public places are for – meeting people and being social. Her small hands formed tiny fists on the bar, supporting her as she swayed ominously, her impaired sense of balance causing the room to swim sickeningly. I see him almost every day, I should at least be able to say 'hi.' I wait for him just as Ritsuka does, watching him through the window, that beautiful, perfect form slumped casually against the schoolyard's gate, those disgusting cigarettes always dangling from his perfect fingers. He even makes smoking seem sensual and desirable. I see him almost every day... but I still can't just talk to him? I'm so pathetic... Hitomi pushed herself back from the bar, tripping over her own feet as she made her way past the crowd, unsure whether she was headed for him or headed for the door.
As she drew closer, Soubi's companion reached an arm around his shoulders, drawing him close and whispering something in his ear. Hitomi stood for a moment, feeling jealousy well up inside of her, wishing desperately that she could be so close to him. Soubi tensed as Kio's lips brushed his cheek with a promise that they would catch up later, turning his cold blue stare to his smiling friend and silently granting him permission to go. Kio snatched up the hand of the bunny beside him and they staggered giggling out the door, but Soubi merely lifted his glass, showing no emotion. Hitomi's confusion and frustration tripled, desperately questioning the nature of the two men's relationship and simultaneously realizing how little she knew about the man she had fallen for so completely. She shook her head and tears spattered against the inside of her glasses; she rushed outside, stumbling as she reached the curb.
Soubi was oblivious, or maybe he just didn't care. He sat in silence, finishing his drink and cigarette in that slow, languorous fashion he had perfected spending so much time waiting for orders. He pulled his cellphone from his pocket to check the time, finding it suddenly later than he expected, and noticing with a pang of disappointment that he had no messages or missed calls. Ritsuka... He replaced the phone, scooping his lighter and pack of cigarettes into his jacket pocket, paid his tab, and made his own way out the door.
He shivered slightly as the cool night enveloped him, ears adjusting to the absence of noise. The soft haze dulling the yellow light of the street lamp told him that he had had too much to drink after all, that he should have eaten something between lunch and now. His feet dragged heavily across the concrete, but his back remained rigid, keeping him upright even though his greatest desire was to fall asleep. He walked slowly past the parked cars, wondering idly how Kio had gotten on with his date and hoping he might be a bit less clingy tomorrow, and then he heard a soft shuddering sigh behind him. Soubi turned to see Hitomi lying on the curb, her long skirt hitched up around her knees, face hidden under her mop of brown hair punctuated by swept-back cat ears. Soubi rushed to her side, his eyes quickly assessing the situation, and seeing no sign of trauma, lifted her into his arms.
"Home... can't... gonna... sick..." Hitomi muttered into the fabric of his coat, her eyes still closed.
"You'll be alright, Shinonome-san," Soubi said softly as he started walking.