Sake and Poetry
By A. K. Freeman
"Oi… Kira…" Matsumoto moaned as she sat up on a couch, wincing from the sun light pouring in through the window of her room.
"Hmn." He muttered and rolled over on the floor. "Hai… Matsumoto-san?"
"How much sake did we have last night?"
"I don't know." He said simply and closed his eyes again. "Enough for me to hate that sun light right now." Matsumoto silently agreed and wished she did not have to go and close the blinds herself. But, it was her room, and Kira looked extremely comfortable down on the floor. To ask him to move would be hilarious, but mean.
Her eyes met the sun again and she groaned, standing up to close the blinds. In her hand she still clutched a bottle. As she walked past a mirror, she glared at the her reflected back on its surface. She looked awful; Matsumoto could barely walk straight, and her hair was a complete mess. As she looked closer, she noticed she had tear streaks on her cheeks.
She smirked at herself. How pathetic. Was she still crying herself to sleep because of that bastard Ichimaru Gin? It was not like she could remember what happened the previous night, so perhaps she had cried over something as little as a stubbed toe or dropped bottle. But, the first option seemed the most likely.
"Pathetic." She muttered and stormed away from the mirror and closed the blinds, grunting as the sun hit her straight in the face before it was finally covered. Matsumoto ignored the mirror as she passed it again; throwing herself on to the couch and finally dropping her bottle. It rolled on the floor and stopped when it bumped against Kira's head.
"Mmf." He grunted and began to blindly reach up for the bottle to move it away from his head.
"Sorry, Kira." Matsumoto said. "I'll take that." She reached out to find the inanimate object responsible for bumping the head of her drinking buddy. Her hand groped the darkness of the room, and she couldn't feel the bottle anywhere.
"Matsumoto-san. It's right here." Kira said quietly and stretched out his arm in her direction clutching the troublesome bottle that was once brim-full with sake. Matsumoto grabbed blindly at the bottle, leaning farther and farther off the couch to reach it. Clasping the neck of it, she sighed.
"Got it." She muttered and fell from where she laid, crashing straight into Kira on the ground. "But I didn't have me…" Kira emitted a sigh and chuckled slightly.
"We're… truly pathetic, aren't we?" He said quietly, not moving, as if he were used to Matsumoto crashing into him. "We drown ourselves in sake whether it be for pleasure or… or to try to forget something awful." Matsumoto knew what he was getting at. It was the last thing she wanted to talk about at that moment.
"What're you talking about, Kira?" she said with a laugh. "Pleasure, pleasure, pleasure! Why else would I drink? You're becoming quite a depressing drinking buddy, Kira. It's almost as if you were still stuck in the past!"
"Matsumoto-san, you probably don't remember, but I do. You were so drunk and kept yelling at Ichimaru-taichou, telling him he was an idiot." He reached up and brushed one of the tear streaks on her cheeks. "Then you sobbed in my lap until you grabbed that bottle in your hand." Matsumoto narrowed her eyes and sighed.
"Kira, I was drunk. Give me some slack. You should know damn well no one really controls what they do when they're as drunk as I was."
"Hai, that's when the raw emotions take over," He said, and Matsumoto stubbornly ignored him. "Forgive me for asking, Matsumoto-san, but you… loved Ichimaru-taichou, didn't you?" Matsumoto twitched and glared at Kira in the darkness.
"He was… my best friend, Kira. My best friend that I thought I knew and could confide in. You want me to get cheesy? There you go, ok? I admitted that I'm still pissed at Gin leaving. Are you happy now?" Kira smiled sadly at her in the darkness.
"I'm sorry." He whispered and closed his eyes. Matsumoto sighed and did the same. She was angry now. Remembering the pain of Gin leaving; she was trying desperately to avoid it. Yet, even though she was pissed at Kira for bringing up the subject, she had to admit that talking about it had not hurt as bad as she always imagined in her head. She opened her eyes and looked at Kira. It was obvious he was still hurting as much as her. And hearing his voice, it was calming somehow.
Was it because he knew how she was feeling? Or maybe it was just the fact that the guy had a way with words. He was a poet, after all. Maybe it was both. Matsumoto had no clue.
"Kira." She said suddenly.
"Hm?"
"You… you won a haiku contest once a while ago, didn't you? You get your works featured in Seiretei's magazine and all."
"Ah… yes. I did. Uhm… why do you ask?"
"Will you recite one? I'm in the mood." Kira blinked in the darkness and smiled. Maybe it was yet too soon to try to talk with her about their pains. But Kira and Matsumoto knew they had each other. He wrapped his arms around her slowly.
"Hai."
Until that time came and they could face their pain, they always had sake and poetry.
"The persimmon will fruit. Aaaa… this year too. The persimmon will fruit."
Fin