Author's Note: I feel really rusty. I think it's going to be a bit before I can reestablish whatever "groove" I used to have going when I was writing all the time. Until then, I guess I'll just continually throw my chapters through edits and hope that the end result is better than the first.
Oh, and a note: I kind of jumped around when referring to Haruka's gender in this chapter (and it also happened a bit in the first, though it was less noticeable). This is because, when speaking from a perspective that aligns more closely with Michiru's thoughts, Haruka is perceived as male, so (to me) it feels awkward referring to Haruka by her true gender when narrating from a more Kaioh... slant. I might change my mind on this later and come back and edit this chapter, making all the "he/him" instances into "she/her," but until then, please bear with me! I'm planning to absolve it relatively soon, in one of the upcoming chapters that I have laid out. Thanks!
CHAPTER TWO
The Banquet
It was odd, wasn't it? Being so concerned about the lack of effect you could have on someone?
Michiru sat in the back of her father's limo, idly toying with the lines of leather fabric that formed the expensive (and well-made) seats of the vehicle, thinking thoughts that she was, she was sure, not supposed to be thinking about. It wasn't that they were taboo, per say, but rather that they were almost childish; had she truly become someone that was so used to an extraordinary amount of attention that when she didn't receive it, she balked?
*Stop being so ridiculous, Michiru!* she scolded herself, brow furrowing into what would be an awkward face on another but, on Michiru Kaioh, appeared as elegant distress. *Just because one boy doesn't stare at you like you're the only female he has ever dreamed of doesn't mean that the world is ending… and since when have I thrived on such attention?*
Usually, the antics of her suitors left the Kaioh in varying degrees of irritation and disgust. Her most recent pursuer had decided that her reluctance meant that she was playing hard to get and had attempted to kiss her, dramatically and passionately, beneath the drifting branches of a birch tree (that later, Michiru realized she was allergic to). He had quickly realized that her reluctance was not her seductive technique when her knee had abruptly introduced itself to his groin. Before that, many of the suitors were much of the same; overly polite or overly ambitious; entirely boring or painfully rude. None had given her any reason to be interested and, for whatever reason or another, Michiru didn't even find herself attracted to them if she viewed them from an entirely shallow standpoint.
*Maybe that is why it's so aggravating,* she mulled to herself as the limo drew to a smooth stop in front of a building that could only be described with the phrase "an explosion of self-importance." *The first time I find someone even remotely attractive… and they couldn't care less.*
As the chauffeur stepped out the driver's side door, Michiru once again checked her appearance more out of habit than actual concern. The gown that she had selected fit her nicely and also happened to compliment her features; it was a deep crimson accented with highlights of an equally deep blue, the color rivaling the intensity of her aquamarine hair and eyes. It fell about her body in waves, something that her seamstress was proud of, and hugged her curves in what she would consider a scandalous manner if questioned too excessively about it. The door popped open to her left; Michiru, expecting the familiar face of her father's long-time chauffeur to appear before her, delicately extended her palm to meet the one reaching out before her… before freezing in place.
"Kaioh-san," a smooth and sultry tenor spoke, emerald eyes crashing headlong into startled aquamarines. "It is good to see you again."
A mere second passed before Michiru appeared to regain her composure, much to Haruka's amusement. A polite smile steadily snaked its way back onto her lips as she grasped the offered hand before her, nodding her head in greeting.
"Tanaka-san," she returned, voice just as silky smooth as that of her apparent attendant's. "I didn't realize that we would be meeting again under such circumstances."
As he drew her out from the confines of the stretched automobile, he released a laugh – long, easy, boyish – all accompanied with a carefree shrug. "I'm helping Toru out. Seems like he got caught up in some business… and, well." The words faded off into a small scoff that the teal-haired woman noticed, but decided to ignore. "I owe him a favor."
The violinist's ears perked at this, though she didn't show it. A favor? "So terribly sorry to be a burden, Tanaka-san," she began as they made their way towards the large doors that hung open, displaying a wealth of suits, gowns and chandeliers inside. "If it is too much of an inconvenience, I would be happy to entertain myself."
Haruka shook her head with a smirk. "No can do. Unfortunately, Toru has stated that I am to be your babysitter for the evening."
Michiru, startled, couldn't help but shoot an entirely uncharacteristic glare at the man that stood at her side. "Excuse me? Who do you—"
"Kaioh-san! Tanaka-san! What a surprise!" a man approached the pair, smiling gleefully as he bowed to each of them in greeting. "Kaioh-san, may I say that your father is quite the businessman? You must be proud!"
The violinist's scowl was quickly replaced by her "dignitary face" as she returned the greeting of the man before her. The subtle tremor of a contained laugh from Haruka was enough to further darken her mood.
*Later,* she thought, as she ran through her scripted responses to the VIPs that had begun to approach her, *I will have a few choice words to say to you, Haruka Tanaka.*
.
The racer was… bored.
Haruka Tenoh – or, as she was known in this particular circuit, Haruka Tanaka – had never been one for formal parties that called for many people to don the most pompous expressions they had available. Toru, her old college friend that she had managed to keep in her life for years, was fully aware of the fact… and yet he made her attend anyway. Initially she had agreed because he had presented it as one of two options: attend a party in which you may be able to disappear, or attend a party that revolved around your existence. When she had chosen the first, it was under the assumption that she would be able to make an appearance, shake a few hands and vanish into the distant horizon less than one hour later. That was the plan, until Toru had gone and ruined it.
"Haruka, come on," the man had pleaded of her two hours back, nudging her shoulder in the process. "They've got me going from meeting to meeting, and I don't want anyone else to escort her in there. It'd be like tossing her to the wolves, although…" he paused, stopping to stare at his friend's stoic expression, "if you weren't busy being so uptight, I'd consider her to be worse off standing next to you."
"Idiot, you know our families have been corporate rivals for years…"
"Whatever, Haruka! You haven't been involved in the business for the past half of a decade. Said it interfered with your ability to race… you even use your mother's maiden name instead of your own, so the public won't recognize you. Don't tell me you've got a grudge just because your mother spouted off about the Kaiohs to you over ten years back."
After more begging, insulting and pleading, Haruka had finally agreed to act as Toru's "tour guide" stand-in, though the acceptance felt like a bad taste in her mouth.
She didn't know why it felt so irritating, to be playing the role of gentlemanly escort for what she would usually consider a beautiful young woman with curves in all the right places and a gorgeous face to match. Perhaps it was the notoriety of the Kaioh's family tactics against her parent's equally successful car manufacturing business. Or perhaps the agitation stemmed into something even more ridiculous; the accounts of Michiru Kaioh's aloof attitude and her refusal to give a man, any man, the time of day. Considering the company that she often kept, she had heard many personal accounts of the Kaioh girl's callous refusals when it came to her suitors… and it all resulted in a single overwhelming assumption cementing itself in Haruka Tenoh's head:
Michiru Kaioh was, by all accounts, an excessively wealthy spoiled brat… and she was stuck with her for the next four hours.
At first, Haruka was grateful when the first man approached her companion with boasts of the Kaioh family's excellence and graciousness; the executive had come just in time to prevent what she could only assume was going to be a bratty retort from the insulted violinist. Inwardly, she still snickered over the look on the girl's face after she referred to herself as a "babysitter."
*Like a cat tossed into a river to cool itself off,* she mused, as the VIPs came and went.
However, as the night wore on, the men that sought to make themselves appear well in a Kaioh family member's eyes began to tire her. They all spoke the same, dressed the same… it was dull, and it was making her feel like she was losing her senses. Even her arm felt like it was falling asleep, propped as it was against a nearby wall as she waited for Michiru to excuse herself from the overexcited executive that had cornered them in place. If she had been paying attention, she would have noticed the rigid slant that had formed at Michiru's shoulders and neck, tension riddling the small woman's form. Unfortunately, Haruka was more preoccupied with lazily examining different parts of Michiru's anatomy; that, and staring longingly at the exit.
"A pleasure to meet you," Michiru finished as the man before her ambled off, looking plenty pleased with himself. As soon as he got out of earshot she heaved a sigh, her shoulders bowing downwards as she felt her reserve energy dwindling. A gloved hand rose to press two fingertips to the arch of her nose, right between her eyes; she could feel the beginnings of a headache already starting to develop.
Gathering her composure about her once more, she straightened up, neck and chin lifting back to their almost regal arc before she turned to face Haruka. As soon as she caught sight of the racer, she scowled, quickly noting that his eyes – as remarkably striking and hypnotizing as they were – were not resting on the proper locations of her body.
"Stop that," she snapped, her patience with her nonchalant escort having been dashed away over an hour ago. "If I wanted you to do that, I would've been sure to let you know!"
"Oh, really?" Pushing off the wall at his (her!) back, Haruka sauntered forward like a wild animal approaching its prey. "From what I've heard, you aren't much of the romantic type." Stopping scant inches before her, he tucked his hands into his pockets before dipping his head downward, capturing the stare of the girl before him with an even one of his own. "Or you're just a bratty tease."
The violinist's expression quickly turned from confusion to infuriated disgust. "You're horrible!" she nearly shouted in reply, barely managing to keep it to the volume of an intensely heated whisper. "You're absolutely horrible, and typical, and… why am I even putting up with this?"
Turning abruptly on the heel of one foot, the aquamarine-haired woman stalked towards a nearby exit, ignoring the scattered glances of a few nearby businessmen. Shoving the door open, Michiru escaped into the cold night air… and kept walking.
Haruka remained where she stood for a long moment, her own eyes narrowed into slits that rivaled the look the Kaioh had given her seconds before. The girl was irritating. In the back of her mind, she knew she had to go after the damned woman – she had promised Toru that she would stick with her, after all – but that didn't make the Tenoh any happier about it.
"Should've known a Kaioh would be this much trouble," she muttered to herself as she finally forced herself into moving towards the blue-haired girl's path of a hasty exit. "Great to look at, but… shit!"
Haruka burst through the door that Michiru had stormed through moments before, ignoring the loud clang of the door slamming shut – and probably locking – behind her. Eyes darting from one side to another, she cursed under her breath; the woman was nowhere to be seen.
"Toru will kill me," she mumbled to herself as she hastily chose the direction that she would have taken, had the roles been reversed. "And what will I tell him? Oh, hey, that girl you wanted me to escort… yeah, I lost her. How does somebody lose an entire person?"
The thought of Toru ripping into her with all the verbal rage of a ruffled "suit" was enough to set Haruka into a steady jog, the prospect of explaining herself to her friend proving to be unpleasant. The streets were empty that night, save for the noise and lights that emanated out of the banquet. The cars that littered the road were few in number and drove leisurely from one light to the next. Even the sidewalks seemed bare of their usual share of pedestrians, Haruka's footsteps echoing into the silence as she drew further away from her starting point. Eventually, the sound of her dress shoes thudding against the pavement came to a gradual halt.
Across the empty roads and beyond the opposing sidewalk stood a park, seemingly empty of life besides the small speck of blue that proved otherwise. A grim smile pulling at the edges of her lips, Haruka walked steadily across the open roads and onto the still damp grass, brushing away thoughts of a ruined pair of Armani shoes in exchange for thoughts of the woman that stood a short distance ahead of her.
She was surprised that the girl had made it this far out into the middle of nowhere, particularly on foot. From what she had assumed, the Kaiohs didn't seem to be the type of family that would go without a chauffeur and expensive car if they didn't have to. *Particularly not to a tiny park that did little to impress,* she thought, though its trees were large, ancient and steady, casting intricate silhouettes with branches over a little pond that rested in the center of the mass of messily kept foliage.
*So maybe she doesn't mind ruining a dress once in awhile to get away from rough situations,* Haruka decided with a nod to herself, her opinion of the woman refusing to raise even but an inch. *Silly girl probably knows that she can get a whole new wardrobe just by shedding a tear or two to her father…*
"What do you want?"
The voice startled Haruka out of her thoughts. Scowling, the blonde-haired woman – or, as Michiru believed, boy – quickly approached her charge, all pretenses of stealth having been tossed to the wind.
"What do you mean, what do I want? I've got to follow you, don't I?"
As Haruka drew up to stand beside the aquamarine-haired woman, Michiru smiled, though it was a bitter one. Shaking her head softly, the violinist let her eyes drop to the ripples formed by the leaves that fluttered down from the tree hovering above her.
"Yes and no," she spoke, quietly. "I'm sure Yoshida-san has requested that you provide company for me tonight, as he is unavailable. But clearly…" she laughed, just barely; the sound was low and cut short. "You have your own ideas as to what that entails."
Haruka winced before regaining her reserve. Frowning, the racer shoved her hands into her black slacks' pockets, casting a dark look to the woman beside her. "Look, I'm sorry I'm not flinging myself all over your pretty little feet, but I—"
"And I apologize as well!" The shorter woman turned abruptly, startling the blonde into silence as intensely focused aquamarine eyes bored into her own. Haruka took a hesitant step back. "When I went home earlier tonight, I did a bit of research on you, Haruka Tanaka," the woman retorted bitterly. "Apparently in America you were known as quite the playboy, hopping from one girl to the next, never giving one longer than a single night to entertain you…"
"You… what, did you google me or something?"
"Did you know that there are fan sites dedicated to the girls that you've left broken hearted?" the small violinist continued, ignoring the astonished words spoken by the racer seconds before. "And another one that lists all your supposed conquests by name and, in some cases, picture?"
Slowly arching an eyebrow, Haruka couldn't help but let a small smirk drag at her lips. "And did you happen to… read any of these supposed first-person accounts of my sex life?"
"Absolutely not!" Michiru paused, drawing in a long breath, before launching into her rant once more. "So, Haruka, Tanaka, Playboy, whatever it is you want to be called… I am terribly sorry if I haven't flung myself at your feet, but I wouldn't want to sleep with you if you were the last man on earth!"
It was then that Haruka began laughing.
Later, she would realize that it was probably a cruel thing to do; Michiru was obviously unaware of her own female parts and, consequently, was also in a horrible mood. Haruka figured it had something to do with the legions of sappy men that had prattled at her for hours before, going on about her father's good deeds and her mother's good looks and, oh my, how wonderfully she played the violin, wasn't that something? And wasn't her father so lucky, having such a talented and exquisitely intelligent family, all little prodigies…
…later, Haruka would realize that laughing wasn't the most helpful thing that she could have engaged in, right at that particular moment. But this "later" wouldn't come for a long time, and that didn't stop her from her uncontrollable chuckling.
"What is wrong with you?" Michiru spoke crossly, cerulean eyes dark as she shot the racer a look that would peel paint off walls.
"With me? I'm not the one that's gone and looked you up on the most stalker-worthy internet search engine available!"
*And failed to notice the "rumors" of my non-male gender,* Haruka mulled to herself as Michiru bristled at the racer's insulting tone.
"Look," Haruka began again, barely managing to speak quick enough to stop the violinist from going into another fatigue-fueled rant. "It's clear that we don't particularly get along. Not that I quite blame you… I'm sure it must be absolutely infuriating for the girl that's used to being courted by mobs of begging boys to be stuck with someone that clearly would like to be elsewhere."
The blonde-haired woman smirked as her companion, still in the process of attempting to regain her composure, could only manage an indignant and choked back cough.
"But I think it's really damn pretentious of you to assume that you would find me so deplorable, considering I haven't even attempted to sleep with you!"
If looks could kill, Haruka would have been brutally murdered, twenty times over.
"I mean, just basing your opinion of me off of a google stalking spree—"
"Excuse me?" the violinist interjected, a small and surprisingly bubbly laugh escaping, disbelievingly, from her lips. "You haven't exactly been the gentlemanly suitor of the night. Or do you not recall your prior snide remarks and inability to look anywhere even close to my face?"
"Besides the point!" the Tenoh snapped, little angry bullets of red forming at the arch of her cheeks. "If I was actually trying, I bet that I could have you in bed in under a week!"
"Deal."
Haruka stopped, emerald eyes snapping wide to stare, blankly, at the just as stubborn-faced and infuriated woman before her. Deal? Had they just made a bet… on her ability to seduce someone that already hated her into the sheets?
Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Michiru was just as astounded by her sudden decision to engage in such a crass and risky challenge… *though,* she would eventually reason, *it can't be that risky if Haruka is already this unpleasant after these first three hours I've spent with him.* But that was besides the point; she had just initiated a bet that required sex for victory and, until that point, consistent dates for a week.
Gloved palm coming to gently rest against the center of her forehead once more, Michiru sighed.
*And that is why I usually try to stop and think before I speak.*
The pair didn't have long to stand in uncomfortable, fidgety silence. The Kaioh limousine pulled up at the edge of the park, stopping with a soft squeal of breaks before idling in place. As Haruka turned to glance at the invader, Michiru gave a light shrug, already beginning to take her first steps towards a more sane escape for the night.
"After standing out here for awhile… alone… I decided that I shook enough hands for the night and requested a pick-up by here around this time," she explained to the sour-faced blonde at her side.
"Good to know I don't have to be with you any longer than I have to…"
"Ah… you have interesting techniques in the manner of seduction, Tanaka-san."
*Crafty little pain in the ass blue-haired female…*
Shoulders hunching forward in resignation as a growl hummed indistinguishably at the back of her throat, Haruka forced her striking stare to meet the suddenly complacent one of the Kaioh daughter.
"Fine," she started, voice notching up from its hostile tone into something that she recalled overusing at celebrity dinners and press meets. "Seven tomorrow, be ready. And don't ask me where I'm taking you," she started again, noting with some satisfaction Michiru's pursing of her lips and dogged refusal to say the one thing on her mind. "I'm sure you have plenty of opinions when it comes to someone's courting of you, but… just trust me."
With an odd and very tiny smile, Michiru nodded once, eyes glinting with restrained dislike as she turned away from the sandy-haired blonde to walk towards the still idling vehicle across the way.
*Trust… you? Those are two very interesting words to put in the same sentence.*
Another Note: For those that have asked and didn't catch it a few paragraphs/pages ago: Haruka calls herself Haruka Tanaka so as to not be recognized as Haruka Tenoh, the daughter of Akira Tenoh, current owner of a company that rivals the Kaioh family. Haruka chose Tanaka because it is her mother's maiden name.
