Written: 14.o2.o6

(a/n)

Yes, another Sorato. This time, it's my last. On this site my first story written was Sorato…but I deleted it cause it was an embarrassment and really ignorantly written considering it was my first story. I guess I'll always be a Sorato lover at heart. It's easier writing Takari, but then again the Sorato I just completed was full of angst.

It's ironic how I put this story up on Valentine's Day. I was searching through my old classical jazz songs and that's where I came across this song by Frank Sinatra. Also, this title is used for one of the episodes of Cowboy Bebop.

Therefore, I do not own the song ' My Funny Valentine.'

This is something different that I've been wanting to do…you'll understand as this story proceeds. But…there will be some typical clichés in it. Then again, romance is cliché. Haha

So sit back and enjoy it ;D

My Funny Valentine

Chapter One

It had been a while since Yamato Ishida had been selfish in acquiring time for himself. For many weeks his band and he were hurled around to the main cities of Japan, performing their ever so well-known gigs. Now, that he was back in Odaiba, it was time to lavish in freedom that he had darn right earned. The other members of the band were most likely clubbing in one of the night discotheques, while Yamato – on the other hand - had declined their invitation earlier. He already had reservations for how he was going to spend the night. He wasn't in the mood of monitoring the loud throbbing music and sweaty clashing bodies on the dance floor. He wanted a peaceful night. Yes, tranquility was always hard to achieve for him…

Though, tranquility is what everyone wanted.

The moonlight rained over the twenty year old man, causing his tousled blond hair to almost appear white. His solitary figure evaded from the noisy streets of Odaiba into a dark lonesome alleyway. Not many people knew about his little sanctuary he had conjured up – the place where he would reside. That, he was relieved about. Peace of mind. Away from the crowds of people, away from the paparazzi and the not so endearing media.

He stepped into the bar, pushing up his dingy shades higher up his nose. From one whiff of the spoiled air he could taste the aroma of cigarettes. As the last time he had come here, the joint was lightly crowded as it usually had been. The smooth modal notes from the grand piano engulfed the place like a streaming waterfall. He sighed. He would never get ill from the continual nirvana-like music. He could lack any other of his senses, but hearing would have to be the only sense he couldn't live without. Music kept him alive. Without music...he wouldn't be the Yamato Ishida at all.

Stevie Wonder had to be one of his favourite artists that Yamato admired the most. Stevie Wonder was blind since birth, but still survived in his music by skillfully playing the harmonica, keyboard, piano as well as other instruments. One would find it hard to digest that the famous lead singer of the Teen-Age Wolves had a soft spot for jazz. No one would ever believe that he cherished jazz like air he'd breathe.

'Sex, drugs & rock n roll!'

Yamato bitterly scoffed the thought. He most likely was classified into that category by many fans of his. He took a seat on a stool besides the bar, eyes still darting around the old scenery. He still stared at the pianist, absorbed in the music to notice his alias name being called out.

"Matthew?"

He ignored the call.

"Sir?" a person behind him tapped Yamato on the shoulder.

He turned around on his seat to face the bartender. She was dressed in a tight gray tank top. He didn't understand why the female was dressed that way - seeing that it was winter. In recognition, her eyes sparkled green under the dim lit tavern. "It is you, Matthew!"

"Oh, sorry," he gave a small smile. He let his elbows droop onto the bar as he clasped his chin in his hands. For half a year, he still wasn't accustomed to being targeted with his pseudo identity name that he had evoked. "Where's Sora, Suzanne?"

"She's over there," Suzanne's gaze shifted behind him, eyes widening at the scene she was witnessing, " Oh my…"

Yamato glanced at the direction where the woman was staring. Due to wearing his black shaded glasses, he let them slip on the edge of his nose to get a better view of what was going on. Out of the scarce source of light he managed to catch sight of a middle-aged plump man towering over a shorter woman with unmistakable fiery hair.

"I'd better go and check it out. It's about time this place got some sensible security!" Suzanne said worriedly, wiping her hands on her apron even though Yamato could tell that they were dry. "That man is probably drunk."

"I'll check it out for you," Yamato sliding off his chair, waving his hands in the air for her to halt. Taking the paused silence as a yes, he also noted, " Besides, you can't leave the bar unattended."

"Thanks, Matthew."

"No problemo."

He gave a careless shrug, slumping through the fogs of cigarettes as he wandered towards where the drama had begun to accumulate. He pulled his dark lensed glasses higher up his nose, observing the situation with a stern frown dragging his features.

"Let go of her," he said briefly.

By the time that Yamato had arrived at his destination, the older person in front of him had already slithered his hands around the woman's waist. She fought him angrily until he finally let go. Her face disgruntled in displeasure staring daggers at the man.

Perhaps she could look after herself...

He brushed the thought away when he noticed that when she had haughtily folded her arms, her fingers had begun shaking. He wasn't deceived. He may be a fool and thick headed at times, but he knew for a fact that she was scared. The woman had put on a darn good job not showing that she was frightened, to the old man's satisfaction. She had her pride. She was a strong soul.

"You can have your feisty slut," the man glowered, cold grey eyes still leering over her lasciviously.

At that insult, the woman almost lashed out onto him. Yamato instantly had gripped onto her hand just before she was about to slap him.

"A feisty slut," the man repeated not wavered. "Missy, I don't think you'd want to harass your customer…you'd get fired, dear. Unless you'd want to bear me a child, I pardon you."

Yamato could feel her viciously quivering again. Instead of fear, he was sure it was replaced with complete wrathful fury.

"She's anything but a slut," Yamato said, his voice monotone. He didn't know the woman completely, yet, but he knew that no one had a darn right to speak to anyone in such a sickly manner. "You're a drunken bastard."

"Ha," the man gave an insane smile. "I may be a drunk bastard, but I know a slut when I see one, young boy!"

Yamato grunted in defiance. From appearances, the man seemed only five years older than himself.

"You don't believe me, boy?"

"Why should I?"

"Just take a look at what your missy's wearing!" he licked his lips. "From what I see, she looks like something fine indeed…"

Yamato doubled back, deciding to take a glance at the man's advice, unsure what had possessed him. He let go of her wrist. Yamato didn't have a complete view of the woman since his glass's lens limited his sight. Her curves could be seen clearly from the tight grey tank top she was wearing, the same he had earlier seen Suzanne clad in. Her eyes were light brown, her face radiant with innocence. Why someone had wanted the female bartenders to be attired in such a non-conservative uniform was beyond his imagination. Sometimes innocence was better left untouched...

Quite some time back, Yamato had mistaken the female for a younger girl. After more frequent visits later, he found out that she was much more than an innocent child holding a pretty smile. Hell, she was the same age as he.

Yamato's frowned deepened. He had just realized he had been gazing over her too long. Besides the man being a complete dunce, he did have a knowledgeable point. The girl/woman was gorgeous. What she was doing in a jazz bar, he didn't know.

"I prove my argument."

The man was most likely a lawyer, from how he was speaking…a dirty old lawyer. He shook his head as he locked gazes with her disapproving look he was sending him. Yes, he had been staring at her way too long.

"He's too young for you, missy. You need someone older and wiser," the man slid a card into her buttock pocket of her tight black pants. She slapped him away; he cracked one last smile as he dissolved away from the pair in the clouds of smoke.

Bebop jazz stirred up, overwhelming their silence.

She walked back to the bar; he trailed behind her and took the same seat he had sat in. He watched her serve the dozens of customers. Suzanne had left early, causing her workload to be double the amount for her. Time swept by, the customers decreased. Music still jammed on, and soon her shift had come to its climax. She French twisted her auburn hair into a loose bun, wandering towards his solitary figure.

"Why are you still here? Everyone's almost gone by now. It's 2am. This place shuts in half an hour."

"Enjoying the music," Yamato said half truthfully. The artist on the stage played the tricky notes to My Funny Valentine as he accompanied the piano notes with his talented voice. "And yet...I'm wondering why your pianist isn't famous."

"Same here," the woman gave a dazzling smile, straight teeth glinting. "Alejandro plays magnificently."

She fiddled with empty glasses on the bar bench, disguising her uncertainty in what she was saying, "About earlier…I just wanted to thank you, Matthew…even though you didn't really do anything at all. But your attempts should be praised, I guess..."

He chuckled, "That's alright. I think I made him absolutely certain that you're a whore now, no offence or anything. He actually gave you his contact number."

"No offence taken," she said simply, taking the business card from her back pocket, face scrunched up in disgust. She tore it into pieces, chucking the rubbish into the nearest trashcan as she walked back beside him. "It happens all the time. Suzanne and I've been having a spat with our manager to change our uniform or get higher security. I still haven't adjusted to it."

"You shouldn't be adjusting to such obscenity in the first place," he contorted. "I don't understand why you're working in this dump anyway…"

"It's like why do you go to this dump in the first place?" she said. "I like working here…that's all I can dish out to you right now, Matthew. You're still a stranger, you know? You randomly slip in here whenever you feel like it...Suzanne and I have bets if you'll come back or not."

"I'm unpredictable."

"I think that I already know that."

It was always like this – the same routine of ongoing arguments. Their personalities clashed, yet they carried some sort of absurd similarity and train of thoughts. She was the same person he had met – always voicing her opinion with the slightest bit or reluctance. Then again, Yamato was never had been interested in girls…since they were either wanting to bed him or crazing for an autograph, which was most probably why he liked to keep his distance. Though, Sora was an exception. She wasn't one of those girls that screamed his name or tormented him with tight embraces.

"You like working here?" he arched an eyebrow. "What…don't you plan to be something else? Don't you have dreams besides being a…being a bartender?"

"I'm happy with my current position, Matthew. You have no right to question my beliefs…I could ask you the same," she said slyly. "Like why you are always hiding when you come. You always wear those black sunglasses. Honey, let me tell you somethin'. There's no sun in a jazz café."

He retorted, "There's moonlight."

"Sure, but our windows don't harvest it considering this place doesn't have windows," she laughed. "Where'd you park your car, anyway?"

The woman was erratic as ever. But from as far as his friendly relationship with her, he never had seen her so straight forward.

"A couple blocks down – the Kyneton Parking Lot."

"That's great!"

Yamato gave a curious look,"And why is that?"

"My car's parked down there as well. You're my escort," she responded, in charge. "Cause I forgot my jacket…I think I need protection."

"Sure," Yamato agreed.

Soon enough the pianist finished playing, causing people to spill out from the bar. When everyone had left, she locked up and both Yamato and her were walking down the street.

Disobeying the soundlessness between them, she spoke up. "You know...whenever you come to the bar you always look all jaggered up and exhausted. You should get some rest...looks like you're going to drop dead any second. You're really pale -"

"I know," he chuckled. Though the woman could be mistaken for a younger girl, her sensibility was equivalent to his mother despite he rarely met up with her - less than Sora, in fact. "But...going to your bar...that's where I like to rest."

She nodded, accepting the answer and not pestering him on. He liked how she didn't prod him on for more answers like many other people he knew.

"So, this is it. Thanks," Sora smiled. Nudging her head to an old jiggered vehicle. Yamato guiltily looked at his shimmering blue SUV convertible.

"Do you have a heater in your car?"

"No," she laughed. Yamato could hear her teeth chattering. He handed her his jacket. "No, I can't take that…"

He didn't care. He could buy the same jacket anytime, after all. He pushed it towards her more.

"Sora, please."

Her warm eyes inspected him. With the few encounters they shared...he hardly called her by her name. He was well aware that using her name atypically would cause her to understand that he was serious. Yamato settled the jacket around her, watching her slide into the driver seat of the car.

"Thanks Mr. Yamato Ishida."

She shut the door, car jolting off. He stood there…frozen in position. The wind even seemed to be in transit, yet he stood there – feet stuck the ground.

Sora had known who he was all along…

You like it so far? Hmm…I guess you can't really judge since this is only the first chapter.

SPECIAL NOTE: THANKS to everyone who voted in the poll about Yamato's career position. This story doesn't really 'fully' focus on it…but on something else I can't quite say. You'll understand when chapter three is up. Haha. ;D