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DISCLAIMER: Leslie N owns not Hanadan. :(
SUMMARY: How could one not desire the glory that is the Doumyouji Empire, embodied by of-age heir, Doumyouji Daisuke? That Aoike Kyoko is utterly disinterested is Very Suspicious indeed. Ch2. Kyoko is accused of plotting a Slow-Impending-Method-of-Attack! Why are all the signs there?
RATING: PG-13/T.
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LOVE OR SOMETHING LIKE IT
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Chapter Two
Curiouser and Curiouser
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"Kyoko?" Aoike Yuriko rapped on Kyoko's bedroom door imperiously. "May I come in, darling?"
"Of course," Kyoko murmured. Slipping a place holder between the pages of her maths book, she hastily packed up her school work. Her mother hated seeing a girl strain her mind too much. Yuriko thought it was terribly unfeminine to be intellectual.
Striding in, Yuriko took a perch on Kyoko's bed, her eyes scanning the room before falling on the blue denim Louis Vuitton bag that lay on the bed close by her. It had been unpacked, wiped down and made ready to return. Her mouth dipped into a frown. "I would like you to have that bag, Kyoko," she said crisply.
Kyoko steeled herself for conflict. "No," she said firmly. "I won't have it. I won't use it," she added, her tone reasonable.
"Of course you'll use it," Yuriko sniffed. "You'll use it for school."
"No," Kyoko repeated. "I won't use it." She pushed her fringe back from her eyes, groping for one of the many bobby pins that scattered on her desk. Sliding it to secure her hair, she looked on warily as her mother played with the tasselled cover of the bedspread. "I'm going to school for academic purposes," Kyoko continued. "Not to compete in Eitoku fashion stakes."
"Going to Eitoku Gakuen is synonymous with competing in the fashion stakes," Yuriko said haughtily. "I presume such an accessory was well noticed today?"
"Yes," Kyoko muttered through gritted teeth.
"See?" Yuriko said smugly. "I knew it would help you make friends."
Kyoko groaned. "I didn't make friends, Mother. My bag did. There's a distinct difference."
Yuriko waved this comment away carelessly. "Things would be exactly the same in any high school you go to," she declared. "Perhaps even worse. At least in Eitoku, there won't be any middle classers with nouveau riche pretensions." She wrinkled her nose.
Kyoko just stifled a scathing retort. The Aoike family was barely second generation. "I wouldn't be able to keep up," she said instead, returning to the former argument. "They'll expect me to one-up next season, you know."
"And one up you shall!" Yuriko responded at once.
"Mother!" Kyoko spread out her hands, exasperated. "We can't afford that!"
"Money," Yuriko said severely, "is not an issue in this matter."
"Money is always an issue," Kyoko muttered. She spun that to her desk, studying the grains of the wood blindly. There was never much use in arguing to Yuriko about finances. It was men's talk, she was fond of saying. Women spent. She refused to let her husband talk about any subject related to money, unless it had to do with uninhibited spending. As a result, Kyoko knew very little about the details of how the Aoike finances worked. However, she knew that her family could afford her schooling at Eitoku. They could afford the mandatory extras of such schooling, but the real burden of the finance lay on maintaining the essential necessities: the two holiday villas in Atami and Kyoto, the penthouse at Central in Hong Kong; the two maids, one butler (who doubled as the chauffeur).
Kyoko understood that the Aoike family did not have money for lavish spending. They skimped on the important things. Food, on most evenings, was dismally plebeian. Fuukamori was the only Japanese—thus the only decently paid—member of their staff.
"You didn't mention much about school this evening," Yuriko said in a pleasant voice after a long moment of silence.
Kyoko sighed. "I talked about it for well over half an hour."
"Twenty five minutes," her mother corrected. "And barely seconds more. You didn't mention Doumyouji Daisuke once!"
"There wasn't nothing to say," Kyoko said bluntly.
"Did you try talk to him?"
"And degrade myself like everyone else?" Kyoko snorted.
Yuriko's eyes sharpened. "Everyone else?"
This comment instantly triggered Kyoko's irritation. "Everyone," she groaned. "There's always someone by his side, offering to help him blow his nose or fetch his books or something. It's pathetic."
"Those girls," Yuriko said in precise tones, "have their priorities ordered, Kyoko. As you should." She whacked the tin of powder she was holding on Kyoko's dresser. "Be realistic, Kyoko…"
"I am realistic!" Kyoko snarled. "It's you…" Then, realising how abruptly she had lost her temper, she pressed her lips together. "I'm sorry, Mama," she said in a quieter tone. "That was disrespectful."
Yuriko's gaze sharpened. "Aren't you the good girl, Kyoko?" she said in a softly mocking tone. "But if you really did respect me, you would do exactly as I say."
There was so much Kyoko wanted to say, so much she needed to say. But she knew she would never find to opportunity to speak the words of her heart to her mother. Yuriko shot her down before she could even try.
"You're so naïve to the world, Kyoko," Yuriko said, before Kyoko could reply. "How could you possibly believe your little romance with Amakusa Ichiru will last? Weasel your way into Doumyouji Daisuke's heart while you can, Kyoko."
"What makes you think I'm capable?" Kyoko found herself asking in a last shot at rebellion.
Aoike Yuriko, formerly Asai Yuriko, merely smiled at her reflection in the mirror. "Because you're exactly the type of girl Doumyoujis would fall in love with." She surveyed her daughter through the mirror, her eyes running to Kyoko's blunt cut hair that fell mid-back and big bewildered eyes. "It may take awhile for him to see you, but when he does, he'll know."
At these words, Kyoko had the strangest feeling of unsettlement in her stomach. "Whatever do you mean?"
Yuriko merely shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Well, Amakusa Ichiru fell for you, didn't he?"
-
Kyoko fumbled with the lock in her locker, her mind over brimming with colourful expletives. Even after a month and a bit of using the locker, she still had difficulty with it. It usually took minutes to tackle. Just as it gave under her fingers, her mobile phone rang. As she grabbed her shoes from her locker, she slid open her phone. "Ichi?"
"Hey." His voice was soft and husky over the phone. "How did your day go?"
"As good as it could, I suppose," she replied, kneeling down to unfasten her shoe laces. "How about you?"
"It was all right," he replied.
"Kana-chan wants to change venues for ice cream," she told him, "so we'll be going pass Aji-Ichiban. I wanted to get some Melty-kiss. Did you want anything?"
"Get a large pack," he told her. "I want some too."
"Anything else?"
"Not that I can think of," he said regretfully.
She smiled. "I'll talk to you later then, okay?"
Exchanging good byes, she hung up. Just as she shut her locker, however, Fuuko and the others wandered over. Fuuko's expression was smug. Nabiki looked cross.
"Kyoko-chan!" Fuuko greeted chirpily. "Guess what?"
Kyoko had many guesses, but none that would be civil to say. She relied on the fallback reaction—a sweet smile. "I couldn't possibly guess," she said instead. "What?"
As she saw the F4 sauntering over, she realised exactly what. The F4, miraculously enough, had taken to 'mingling' with their fellow students. There would be times when Yukira could be seen sharing Pocky with the front-row 'academic enthusiasts' (read: nerds), or the boys would play a bit of lunchtime soccer with the second and third years. While in three days of five (Nabiki's count), they would always stick together in their little niche in the cafeteria, the other two days were those in which members of the F4 could be found everywhere and anywhere.
Fuuko had been loudly considering for some time a 'cosy get-together' after school. It seemed she had finally found the guts to ask.
"A group of us are going out for food and K," Nabiki cut in quickly, jerking her head indicate the F4 was included too. "You in?"
Kyoko internally winced. She actually wouldn't have minded going, and if she hadn't had prior engagements, she certainly would have gone. She didn't want to completely exclude herself. Being mainstream was much easier than being out. "Sorry," she said, genuinely regretful. "I'm busy."
"Come on," Fuuko said, rolling her eyes. "Your Ichi-sama can possibly spare you for one day…"
"Not Ichi, actually," Kyoko mumbled. "I…"
"Oh Kyoko, you!" Fuuko gasped. "You're cheating on Amakusa Ichiru?"
"Amakusa who?" Having ambled over, Yoshiko slung a companionable arm around Haruna. She abruptly turned red and dissolved into giggles.
"Amakusa Ichiru," Fuuko supplied eagerly, quite giggly herself. "He's supposed to be this girl's boy, but we aren't so sure anymore…"
"I'm meeting with one of my junior school friends," Kyoko told them, her voice barely steady. She was embarrassed and offended. "Hinami Kana. A girl. Now, if you don't mind, I don't want to me late." Managing a taut smile, she shouldered her bag and began walking off.
"She's very touchy about him," she heard Fuuko say.
"Amakusa, as in the chef, Amakusa Seinosuke?" Ryouma asked. His voice sounded sleepy, as if he had just woken up and found the conversation of merit.
"The very one!" Nabiki's eager voice was shrill.
"She's dating him?" Yukira's voice was disbelieving. "Are you sure?"
The corridors of Eitoku were so bloody long! Kyoko gritted her teeth and continued walking in as much of a normal pace as she could manage.
"I couldn't believe it myself when she told me," Nabiki's voice was cream-and-honey. "But she phones him almost every hour…"
There were titters.
By the time Kyoko rounded the corner, their voices were now very faint. She let herself slow down for a minute, to shake a little and breathe. However, she refused to be upset. She absolutely refused it.
There was no reason to be upset anyway. She didn't understand why her breathe was coming so short. She refused to acknowledge the heat of the tears in her eyes or the constriction of her throat.
"You're stronger than this, Aoike Kyoko," she told herself firmly, in a barely audible whisper. "You're strong, strong, strong, strong, strong!"
But as strong as she was, there was no stopping what had already happened.
There were toilets located just inside the school entrance. Kyoko simply had to duck in. Luckily, they were empty.
She glared at her teary reflection belligerently. "You dork," she hissed at herself. "There's no reason to cry. None at all."
By the time she was out of the bathroom, she was still a little pale, but otherwise she was calm. Kana was waiting for her nearby at the bus stop.
"Kyoko-chan!" Kana squealed when she saw her. "I can't believe it! You look so good! Your uniform is so cute!"
Hinami Kana was a tiny girl. At just four foot eleven, she had skilfully altered her Kiami Public High School uniform to became as a tightly-fitted ensemble that suited her bubbly cuteness very well indeed. Kyoko upon marvelling at the precise pleats of the short skirt was told that they had to be ironed in every single day.
"I have to touch up during the day too," Kana sighed. "That's why I bring my hair iron."
"Iron?"
Kana laughed and linked her arm through Kyoko's. "So how is Eitoku treating you?" she asked. During all their previous conversations, on the weekends or by phone, Kyoko had always delayed the question, with evasive answers such as: 'I'm not sure yet', or 'ask me in a week'.
Today, however, Kyoko could not bring herself to play the game.
"Well," Kyoko said glumly.
"Just well?" Kana peered at her.
"Nothing bad has happened," Kyoko said with another sigh. "I don't want to complain and sound like a whiny brat."
"But I love whiny brats," Kana said cheerfully. "Why do you think I hang around you? Your closet whiny brat absolutely kills me with hilarity."
Kyoko gave her a look.
"I hang around you for other things as well, such as the eye-candy." This said, Kana grinned. "Speaking of which, how is your delicious Ichiru?"
Kana was so infection, Kyoko couldn't help but smile. "Indescribably delectable," she purred smugly, pealing with laughter when Kana burst into theatrical groans of pain.
"You're so mean! Eye candy is public property, Aoike Kyoko! Tell me all about it! Now!"
-
When Fuuko phoned Kyoko that night, she was all repentant. "Are you okay, Kyoko-chan?" she asked, her voice sweet in the likeness of sincerity. "Nabiki-chan was telling me you were upset this afternoon. Were you upset? Are you still upset?"
"Of course not," Kyoko said, unintentionally duplicating Fuuko's honeyed tones. "Why would I be upset?"
"Are you sure, Kyoko-chan?" Fuuko asked worriedly. "We didn't mean to say the things we did about you and Ichi-kun. Well, I mean, we didn't mean for it to come out the way it did. You and Ichi make a wonderful couple."
"Thank you," Kyoko responded wearily.
"I mean it. You two are the cutest ever," Fuuko said firmly. "So, you aren't even angry at Nabiki-chan? We're friends, aren't we, Kyoko? You can tell me if you are."
"Why would I be angry at Nabiki?" Kyoko laughed lightly. "This all just makes me think, Fuuko-chan. Is my relationship with Ichi too intrusive? I won't talk much about him, if it is…"
"You don't talk about him enough," Fuuko was quick to reply. "I barely know anything about him other than his name!"
The readiness in which she said this convinced Kyoko that Fuuko was definitely lying. Fuuko would have done some research.
"So how did the afternoon go?" Kyoko asked, feeling a headache coming on.
"It was fun!" Fuuko squealed. "You should have been there, Kyoko-chan! Daisuke-kun took us to the best café and treated us all to cake, but that's not all… you absolutely missed it!"
"Missed what?" Kyoko was curious despite herself.
"Haruna," Fuuko sighed, "that little idiot. She was an absolute idiot around Ryouma-kun. She wouldn't stop giggling and saying really stupid things, that idiot," she repeated, with a disdainful sniff.
"I thought she liked Doumyouji-kun," Kyoko said.
"Obviously for the wrong reasons!" Fuuko declared, switching to a tone of outrage. "If she can switch between Ryouma-kun and Daisuke-kun so easily, she mustn't really like either of them!"
"Ryouma's such a playboy though," Kyoko reasoned. "He just has that effect on girls…"
"But what if he tried to hit on you? Would you stay true to Daisuke-kun?" Fuuko asked casually.
"I'm sure you would," Kyoko replied, her tone light and teasing. "And I don't think anyone could tempt me away from Ichiru."
"Of course," Fuuko said buoyantly. Kyoko could almost see her over-enthusiastic nod from over the phone. "It's just that, Kyoko-chan… are you sure you don't like Daisuke?"
"Of course I don't," Kyoko replied. She didn't know whether to be exasperated at Fuuko's persistent questions or relieved that she had finally gotten to the point. "And I can't see why anyone thinks I do," she added.
"Some people," Fuuko said, with significant emphasis on the words to suggest that she wasn't among those petty 'some', "seem to think that you've got a slow-impending method of attack, so to speak."
"Slow-impending method of attack?" Kyoko repeated, stunned.
"You aren't interested at all!" Fuuko explained. "Even the academic enthusiasts get hot and bothered when Daisuke comes around, but you—"
"I have a boyfriend," Kyoko finished resolutely.
"But that never stopped anyone," Fuuko continued. "Do you see that stopping Reika, Emiri, Nanako or Miwa? They'd dump their boyfriends in a second if Daisuke-kun came their way. You should see the way Nanako carries on whenever Daisuke-kun is around. It's absolutely disgraceful."
The very mention of the name recalled the memory of a debauched-looking Hatsune Nanako stumbling late into the last lesson of the day mere weeks ago. A neatly groomed, amused Nishikado Yoshiko had come into the lesson a few minutes later. He hadn't paid any attention to Nanako ever since
Kyoko winced. "I would rather not be like Nanako," she murmured, feeling a little guilty in saying the snarky words.
"Well of course not," Fuuko said at once. "I wasn't suggesting that at all!"
"I absolutely believe you, Fuuko-chan," Kyoko dead-panned.
Fuuko either didn't notice the sarcasm or she ignored it. "I'm just saying, Kyoko-chan, that there have been whispers going around. We are friends, aren't we? You can be honest with me."
Kyoko sighed. "I really like Ichi," she began. "Have I ever told you about how we met?"
"No, but I'd like to know!" Fuuko's bubbly response was immediate.
"He came into the dango store where I was working, last year, and he kept on coming back," Kyoko couldn't help a laugh. "He would make me talk a lot, asking me for detailed description about how the dango was made and what they tasted like… and he would stay there for hours! But he'd buy so much, the store-owner never minded."
"Do you still work, Kyoko-chan?"
"Casually," Kyoko replied. "I sometimes fill in when the usual staff is away. I go there for the memories."
"So Ichiru-kun…" Fuuko's voice trailed off.
"It was gradual," Kyoko said, cupping her chin in her hand as she pondered on the memories. "He asked me out on Valentines day, with a red-bean dango that had a message inside."
"That's so romantic!" Fuuko squealed.
"Do you understand now, Fuuko-chan?" Kyoko asked.
"I think I do." Fuuko sounded hesitant.
"I wish you the best with Doumyouji-kun," Kyoko added. "You and Nabiki-chan both."
"Of course, Nabiki-chan!" Now it was Fuuko's turn for strained laughter.
Kyoko was wary as she and Fuuko exchanged goodbyes. When Fuuko hung up, Kyoko pretended to, while listening very carefully on the line. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard the distinct click of TWO phones hanging up.
The call had been three way, the third party being most definitely Yushira Nabiki.
-
Surprisingly, time slid by like water over stones. The weather grew steadily more bitter as the weeks and months wore on.
Kyoko's birthday fell on the first week of November. It was actually on a Monday, though Ichi gave her the present in the weekend beforehand. It had been at an afternoon in a café. He had come in fifteen minutes late with a huge canvas bag.
"You aren't to open that until we're about to leave," he instructed.
She goggled at the bag, wondering about what was inside. "Okay," she agreed.
When she did finally open it, she found there was a bag inside the bag. To her shock, she saw the distinctive lettering of 'Christian Dior'. She caught her breath. "You didn't," she gasped, paling.
Ichi gazed at her, not saying a word.
Peeling back the sticky-tape sealing the cardboard opening closed, Kyoko pulled out the small tote inside the bag. It was absolutely beautiful. The leather was among the softest Kyoko had ever touched. She closed her eyes. "You shouldn't have," she whispered. "You really shouldn't have."
"Remember all those afternoons where I was busy?" he asked. "I was working. I—"
Kyoko sucked in a breath and let it out. She was crying. Hastily, she put the bag back into its bag. "Ichiru, you idiot," she said, breathless with tears. "Why did you do that?"
He traced the rim of his cup around and around. "I just didn't want your mum getting you another bag this season. I had to give it to you early."
"We aren't poor," Kyoko said through gritted teeth. She blew her nose.
Ichi looked away. "No," he said. "You aren't."
-
Monday was absolutely unbearable.
The thing about birthdays was that present giving was really an exchange system. Giving a present automatically demanded a present in return, of equal or greater value.
Jewellery was popular. Rings. Earrings. Brooches. Nabiki gave her a pair of earrings with crystal tulips while Fuuko gave her a small Swarovski pig figurine. "The Year of the Pig," she said merrily.
But the pig was distinctly a piggy bank.
It was hard to smile as she starred down at the multi-faceted crystal. Fuuko's expression seemed guileless.
But as the day wore on, the list of present grew bigger. When Kyoko did the mental calculations in her head, her heart plummeted. While she now carried Ichi's Dior bag on her arm, very much still in the game, she knew all too well that she couldn't keep the farce up much longer.
The list was already growing past one hundred thousand yen.
They had ordered cake for her at lunchtime. It was a massive chocolate tiramisu, enough to feed the entire year and more. After everyone sang her happy birthday, Kyoko blew out the seventeen candles amidst whistles and cheers.
"I hope my birthday will be as big as this!" Fuuko chirped in her ear.
Knowing Fuuko, it would be bigger.
In the tizzy of the celebrations, Kyoko found the opportunity to sneak outside. Although she was the birthday girl, they didn't miss her a bit. This was no surprise. There had only been one 'worthwhile' birthday prior to hers, Nabiki's birthday. That had been a massive event as well. The revelry then had thrived on itself. Nabiki's name was hardly ever mentioned.
Kyoko went to the bathroom first. She went to the toilet, washed her hands and contemplated on whether to ring Ichi. But when looking at the bag on her arm, she knew it wouldn't be the right thing to do. He was already worried about her. He understood exactly what she was going through.
It was absolutely embarrassing.
When two other girls entered the bathroom, chattering (and piping birthday wishes), Kyoko quickly exited. She opened her phone and pretended to be talking while her eyes furtively searched for the nearest place to hide in.
She wanted to be alone. She wanted silence.
She found herself at the stairwell. She recognised it because it was the stairwell where she had hid on the first day of school, while talking to Ichi. With little else to do, she walked up the steps to the very top. She was in the top floor of the school. On one side, there was a corridor, leading back to school. On the other side, there were a set of double doors.
At the sound of passing footsteps, Kyoko chose the set of doors. She scurried through and eased the door shut. She listened carefully, waiting until the footsteps passed.
When they finally did, she turned to view her surroundings. To her surprise, she was greeted with a startling silence. There were stairs leading down the side of the building, winding around the school. Looking out, she was viewing the back of the school, the vast sporting fields and the beautiful grounds that lay beyond.
Everything was isolated.
"This is beautiful," she breathed, leaning against the cement ledge. This is perfect! Kyoko thought to herself happily. She had found a place of refuge in Eitoku at last!
Scuttling to the lower flight of stairs, Kyoko happily seated and pulled out the lunch she had packed. She hadn't been able to do this for ages: find time for herself. She felt like laughing aloud, but it seemed a little insane. Instead, she settled for munching her rice and smiling a little idiotically to herself.
In her content, she barely noticed when the door upstairs swung open. She only did realise when footsteps padded towards her direction. As they came nearer, Kyoko froze.
Her mouth full of rice and vegetables, she turned around slowly to see who the intruder was.
Aoike Kyoko choked, spitting out her food.
"Doumyouji Daisuke?"
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Notes and blah blah (part two):
- Firstly, major edit! I've switched around Yoshiko and Ryouma's names in the second scene in this chapter. Significantly, Ryouma is the one enquiring about Ichiru.
Thank you maomai, BB, diana and truth for leaving reviews, and to BB especially for correcting my French:) To you guys, and all readers, I hope you do choose to continue with this story! I'm having (probably irrational) lots of fun fiddling around with the plot. As you (hopefully!) can see, things are about to get very messed up soon. :)
I confess my lack of knowledge once again. I'm basing some of my facts on elements of Japan from what I do know about Hong Kong (which is far away from Japan, but, uh… Asian?). If anyone does know of any Japanese sweet shops (and sweets) that I could substitute in place of my clumsy product-placement (so to speak) of HK confectionary chain Aji-Ichiban and Melty-kisses, I'll be very grateful!
I have got a little of chapter three written, but as far as I know in the not-so-distant future some of the following events should happen:
Kyoko gets very, very angry. Daisuke smirks (at Kyoko, which makes this Very Significant, yes?). Ryouma blackmails a certain heroine into hanky-panky. Kazuya has an affair with Shigure (boy, he sure gets around). Ichiru is perverted. Fuuko one-ups Kyoko with Fendi. Rui drinks tea and falls asleep.
Two out of these options is uncertain, while one of these is dead wrong. :)
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