Yay, another chapter! Don't forget to leave reviews!
LeeRaRa: Yeah, I hope it will turn out to be a good story. :D
Ishida-Nadare: I'll try to update this story often since I'm really focused on The Blue Flower at the moment. Heehee.
ThePinkMartini: Well, I'm sticking to Canon so Fuuko is for Domon in this fiction. Sorry for the disclaimer. Hehe.
Disclaimer: Fushigi Yuugi and Recca no Honou are not mine.
Chapter Two
By Slavedriver2008
HE WAS HERE AGAIN. I was wiping the counter, two hours after closing time. He was the only customer left and I have tons to do. But restaurant rules prohibit us from shooing customers regardless of how annoying they were. I can't wash the dishes with him still inside. Why can't he go home? Was it his way of annoying me again?
I looked at his form, seated at the far end of the restaurant, facing the large windows that showed the park. From where I stood, I can only see the darkness and some small light. Some patch of green can be seen but no flowers were around. He was handsome when he's not speaking, though I don't know if I should be thinking of such things after what happened between us less than 12 hours ago. He looked sad, the way I was after the incidents in the book of the four gods. Like losing an important part of yourself and then realizing later on how stupid it was to lament for so long.
"If you continue staring at me, you won't finish your job," he said aloud in the bare restaurant, turning his head slightly to my direction. A smirk left his face and I frowned, flushing.
"We've been closed for two hours," I said, trying to regain my composure. "If you left before closing time, I would be going home by now."
He stood up and walked toward the counter, never taking his eyes off me. Damn, he was so hot, how can he be such a cad? In few long strides he was in front of me, leaning on the counter, smirking in that annoying yet alluring manner. He stared at me intently and I don't know whether to answer his gaze or to look down.
"Your eyes…" he whispered, still staring intently.
"What…?"
"In the day they're more blue, but at night they are more green," he noted and I blushed. No one noticed my eyes before and even Miaka could not tell the difference. It was my secret. "They say people with eyes that change colors cannot be trusted," he quipped and my jaw tightened. I looked around, trying to control my anger. He hasn't paid his bills yet and I'm not willing to throw him out and pay it with my paycheck.
He placed a photo on the table and I looked down. It was the one he took earlier, with my skirt flying up. He had printed it in a bigger paper, ones that were probably as big as my laptop. He pushed it closer and I looked at him intently. He straightened up and I had to look up to meet his gaze.
"It's only a second copy," he said. "Just to prove that we didn't see anything unnecessary, not that it matters." His voice was softer now. He turned around, headed for the door. I took the photo and gasped. It was beautiful, the way he took it. It was not obscene, it was…
"Lovely…" I whispered and he turned. "But lonely…" I met his questioning eyes and I looked away, putting the picture down. "I'm—Thank you."
"I want you to see how you ruined what could have been a perfect shot," he said sternly. I made a face of disbelief and frowned. I clutched the rag and controlled the urge to throw it at him. I was angry and he was the only person who can make me seethe with a small comment.
His eyes lit up and he placed a hand to cover what I think was a smile. Flustered, I placed down the rag and turned around, too mad for my own good. I walked to the bathroom and closed it behind me, covering my face with my hands. I opened the faucet and let water wash through my still throbbing hand. My psychiatrist said I should calm down and avoid thinking too much, right now, my head was creating images of him, making my heart beat unbearably fast. I sighed as the water slowly relieved the anger in my body.
The door immediately opened and I turned, surprised. He stepped inside and closed it behind him with a sound. Quick footsteps ran to me and I backed toward the farther end of the cubicle, fear filling my body.
"Why are you—" A cold hand covered my mouth and he pushed me to the wall. The washroom was small, fit for only one person. With him inside, we were like canned tuna meat. I panicked at our closeness and I struggled to push his hand off my mouth.
"Shhh…" he hushed me and my eyes darted to him, angry. "There's someone in the kitchen…" My heart pounded fast. Was it a thief? Did Miaka forget to close the kitchen door before she left? I tried to push him away and he eyed me angrily. Our bodies collided in the dark and my heart pounded when footsteps came closer to the washroom.
Tokiya looked around, probably hoping to come across any toilet materials he could swing on the thief's head. Finding none, he slowly turned around and left my mouth. I held my breath as the smell of after shave cologne gently moved away. The footsteps left the door of the bathroom and he slowly opened the door. I barely moved when he ran out and strangled the man. I stepped out of the bathroom in time to see him land a punch on the thief's face.
Dark glasses fell on the ground and I gasped. "Tetsuya!" My former boyfriend coughed out blood and Tokiya moved back, still eyeing him sharply.
"Yui—" he stood up and walked toward me but the long-haired bishounen placed an arm in front of me. He stopped and eyed him, wiping the blood at the sides of his mouth. "Move out, punk." Tokiya didn't budge and Tetsuya eyed him angrily, brown eyes meeting blue. "Is this your new boyfriend, huh Yui? You could do better than choose another Nakago—"
"Tetsuya, stop!" I pulled down Tokiya's arm and stepped toward Tetsuya, heaving. "Why are you here? Why are you sneaking in the kitchen?"
"I'll take you home—"
"I told you to stop already!" My voice rose and my heart beat uncontrollably again. Tetsuya always does things that make me angry. He was not good for me. It was the reason why we broke up, maintaining a relationship with him was not healthy for my sanity.
"I need you, Yui—Don't believe that doctor. He's insane—" I slapped him. His eyes widened. "Yui…" I shook my head. "Yui…" I shook my head vigorously. He touched my arms and I pushed his hands away.
"It's been a year. I've forgotten," I stated, staring at his big brown eyes. It was surprising how I suddenly fell out of love for him, just because my doctor told me to find another man, someone who wouldn't remind me of Shinjintenchisho, someone who would not make me this emotionally unstable.
The book broke me and seeing Tetsuya, watching him turn away with that rejected lonely eyes, it continues to break me. A tear fell from my eye. I was not crying because he was leaving my life for good. I was crying because I was weak. I couldn't put it past me. And he had to get hurt because of that weakness. A sob escaped my throat and I turned back to the counter, passing the bishounnen whose presence I had momentarily forgotten.
I continued my after-hours chores and I never noticed if he left or not. All that I know was that I was not okay and I needed help.
I TRIED TO FORGET IT. But the sound of the wind hitting the glass window brought it back, again and again, her soft slow sobs as she cleaned and counter and closed the restaurant. I can hear it whenever the wind howls. I stood up from bed and went straight to the dark room, where the wind would not find me and the rain would not remind me of tears.
I hate rain. I hate tears. I escape.
I pulled out the roll of film, of photos I took that night. It had been days since it happened but I had forgotten about it. Those were shots I took again in my attempt to resurrect that graceful after-rain look on the hydrangeas. After all, the mist remained on their petals and the cloudy sky had not dried the pools of water on the park. One by one the images came, drenched in hues of blue. I clipped it beside her photos, now brimming with colors, letting it dry and waiting for the colors to sink in.
I lined them on the clothes line on top of her images, stepping back and waiting. I lit a cigarette. As I had expected, the hydrangeas were not as beautiful, not as lively, not as bursting with colors as the time when she ran into the frame. It was a bunch of useless images and I pulled them down one by one, ripping them in half as my cigarette burned in the ashtray. Wasted paper filled my trashcan permeated by the smell of freshly dried chemicals.
I pulled the last one. It was an image of her and her brunette friend, chatting happily behind the counter. It's not flowers and it's not blue so it gets ripped. I looked at the photo again, debating whether to throw it away. For one, the angle was good and she was submerged in various red and brown hues. But she still stood out, her dusty blond hair, her striking blue eyes that seemed to add life to the whole picture.
The telephone rang and I took it from the cradle, not taking my eyes from her face. There was something about it that made the picture, well, perfect. "Moshi-moshi?" I asked.
"Mi-chan, it's me Yanagi," the familiar female voice said and I grumbled in response. "I called to remind you about the festival. Don't be late!"
"It's raining," I said without care. I pinned the photo back on the line, the only remaining survivor of the carnage I just did.
"It stopped almost 30 minutes ago," Yanagi said matter-of-factly. "I'm about to leave the house now. Recca and Domon are picking me up! Are you on your way?"
"I'm busy," I said, still staring at the picture. I can't stop unless I found out what made it better than the flowers, why it deserved a spot in the exhibit.
"Tokiya! You promised to come!" she screamed and my eyebrows creased.
"I'm printing photos," I told her. I was not in the mood to go out. I wanted to stay hidden in the dark room and watch the photos dry.
"Mi-chan, tonight's the best night to take pictures! There will be fireworks…" she tempted and I raised an eyebrow. There was an instant as a neophyte when I became addicted to firework shots. That was a long time ago. The addiction had passed.
"Yanagi—"
"She'll be coming and it took me days just to force her to come. So please get a shower and meet us at the temple. We'll wait," Yanagi said and before I could react, she placed down the phone. I cursed and took my cigarette. It had already burned out.
There was no other option was it? I hated it when my friends do the "We'll wait" tactic on me. It was damn annoying because it's effective. With heavy steps, I walked toward the bathroom and took a fast shower, unmindful whether I scrubbed at the right places. I stepped out, cold and damp, hanging my hair down to let it dry. In a few minutes I found myself staring at the wall clock, letting time pass, thinking of the photos clipped on the clothes line.
A ringing sound brought me back to my senses. This time, it was my mobile phone. I didn't answer it and placed a white shirt and faded jeans. Who cares if I don't dress in traditional clothes? No one will notice. I put on rubber shoes, surprised I still had those things in my room. My mobile phone was already ringing for the fifth time when I stepped out of the house to answer it.
"Where are you?" Yanagi asked, evidently impatient.
"Walking. Be there in 15 minutes," I replied. She sighed.
"I thought you're not coming," she laughed lightly. "She's already here. Did you dress nicely?" she inquired and I took out a cigarette from my shirt pocket, placing it in my mouth, and lighting it.
"Yeah," I lied. I always wear jeans and white polo shirts, no one would notice I'm wearing the same damn thing. "I'll see you." I closed the phone and slid it in the pocket where my cigarette sticks were, not waiting for her to say goodbye.
"Someone's got a date," a soft voice called and I turned to find her standing at her doorway, wearing the usual black lingerie. She smiled and flicked those eyelash extensions, blonde hair hanging over her shoulders. I smirked and walked to her, she smiled.
"You forgot your clothes," I teased and she laughed. Long fingers brushed through my belt and pulled me. I knew what she wanted, it was the same old shit. She stepped back toward her apartment, urging me to follow.
"Come—"
"No," I said, pulling her out and pushing her to the wall. "Let's do it here." Her brown eyes widened and she pushed me away. I laughed and stepped back, pulling another cigarette from my pocket and treading the path out of the complex, to where another woman was waiting.
"Tokiya—" she called and I didn't turn. She called me again but I continued to walk away, one hand in my camera case, the other clutching a nicotine stick. It was the first time I didn't give in to her demands, and I didn't regret it.
I learned it that night. Pathetic.
I reached the temple and was probably more than 10 minutes late. But who's counting? Everyone who walked around me were wearing traditional Japanese clothes, yukata and fudonshi, walking back and forth the temple area, holding fans or paper umbrellas. My eyes saw lovers, blushing and whispering under the starry after-rain night sky. I wanted to puke but I ended up sighing and walking ahead, finishing the last remains of the stick between my fingers.
"Tokiya!" Recca called and I frowned. He patted my shoulder and I raised an eyebrow as I looked at what they wore. Like everyone else, they were in traditional Japanese clothes. I stood out like a sore thumb.
"Why aren't you dressed up?" Yanagi called. "I can't believe you, Mi-chan! You were late for an hour and you're not presentable enough!" I made a face, not saying anything, continuing to smoke. The rest of the gang walked toward me like I'm some sort of a star. Well, I am the eldest and they tend to gravitate toward the more experienced member. I wanted to laugh at the thought. Heck, who was I fooling?
Domon was with Fuuko, Recca with Yanagi. Great, where's my date? I wanted to ask distastefully. Being dragged into this situation was by far becoming the worst night of my week. The monkeys kept on talking and I didn't listen to them. Instead, I looked around, waiting for inspiration to strike me. I want the fireworks to come so I can go home and print photos and hopefully improve my pictures for the exhibit. I was not as good as I used to be. Probably because I'm using a different camera and I'm still getting used to doing things manually again.
The beauty of images depends on what a photographer sees. Right now, I'm seeing shit. It was not a good sign, I was not inspired enough to come out with a spectacular breathtaking photo. So much for getting published in major teen magazines and those now useful regional photography awards. My eyes were no longer as good as before. I had become rusty within a year.
"Where is she?" Yanagi asked, looking around. "Argh! I can't find her!"
"Let's call it a night," I said, walking away. I wouldn't care less where my date was, I simply wanted to be alone. Maybe if I'm not with anyone it would come back. My muse, where had she ran off to?
A firefly caught my attention and I immediately took out my camera, following it. My eyes came across a little girl walking hand in hand with a little boy, a red balloon tied on her wrist. I smirked and followed them instead. They stopped in front of a stall with gold fishes swimming in a made-up pool, catching them in paper nets and then groaning if the net gets ripped by the flapping fish. I crouched down and took photos of the children, the boy pointing at the swimming fishes and the girl, giggling and blushing under the electric bulbs.
The sound of children filled my ears, struggling to catch and watching with awe as a better "fisher" successfully capture one or two. I stood up and took a step to my left, looking for a better angle. I took another step and I was hit by one passerby, I skidded and hit a sitting figure and in my effort to avoid falling on the figure, I fell knees first on the ground, soiling my faded jeans. When I turned to her, my eyebrow creased as I watched her gasp, the fish escaping her net, leaving it broken and ripped open.
"Look what you did!" she screamed like a child, holding the ruined paper net. Our eyes met and my eyebrows creased. Her eyes widened and I ended up smirking. I turned to look at the other figures beside her, children crouched around the pool, their eyes moving from her to me.
What was her name? Ah, Yui. How can I forget Japan's most normal girl's name. Yui followed my gaze and she flushed, unconsciously pouting as she realized how childish it was of her to be competing with children. She probably realized what played on my mind because she glared back in those eyes that were predominantly green at night. For the first time in weeks, I laughed.
A/N: Heehee. Festival scene! I've never made a festival chapter before so I'm really very excited to do the next chapter. :D