All I wanted to do tonight was clean my apartment, and not deal with my
fucking committee peons. Goddamn wankers. At least my Wench obeys his
orders, even if he does want to kill himself now. God it sucks being the
Bitch. Why did I want this job again? And my apt still isn't clean. Anyway.
. . So now I'm frustrated, stressed, and insomniac, out of this is borne. .
.
*Chapter One*
The phone was ringing. Loudly. Tsukasa groaned and rolled over in bed. Flinging a pillow over his head, he tried to drown out the incessant noise, in hopes that a servant or maid would pick up and take a message. No such luck. After what seemed an eternity, an answering machine picked up, to the sound of a dial tone. A few seconds later, the phone began to ring anew. Whoever was calling was certainly persistent, Tsukasa had to give them that. He could only wish it were otherwise. Didn't anyone else hear the noise? Didn't anyone else care? In his sleep-clouded stupor, Tsukasa failed to realize that the call was on his personal line, and thus that no one else could possibly be disturbed by the clamor.
Grumbling curses at the inconsiderate louts who would wake him from his much-needed beauty sleep, Tsukasa reached out a fumbling hand and snagged the bedside receiver.
"What?" he barked irately, not even bothering to ask who was calling.
"Hey Tsukasa! How's it going?"
"Akira." Tsukasa scowled sleepily. The only one of his friends who actually bothered to call on a regular basis. Tsukasa often wished he wouldn't. He'd come to New York to escape his mistakes, escape the stresses that were tearing at their group. He hated to be reminded of the way their clique had imploded, the way he'd lost Tsukushi. But Akira still called, blithely disregarding time and place. Sometimes he'd pick up the phone on a whim, first thing when he woke up in the morning, or during lunch. Sometimes he'd even call Tsukasa from the clubs, the deep bass beat rendering his words obscure, and the dialogue hazy. It didn't much matter, for usually the conversation was remarkably content-free.
While Akira wanted to check up on his moody friend and did what he could to cheer him up, Tsukasa stubbornly refused to let his friend in, and would not allow him to talk of any . . .sensitive. . . matters, such as the mere mention of Soujiro, or anything connected in any way with Tsukushi. Instead, they'd mutter inanities about the weather; how their respective families were doing; and about the state of the stock market. It wasn't much, but even so, just the sound of Akira's voice on the phone sent Tsukasa's thoughts spiraling downward, pulling him into a memory-induced depression that only time and distance could numb.
Rui had tried to call a few times too, back in the beginning. Tsukasa had never bothered to find out what the other boy wanted. Instead, he'd just hung up, at the sound of the other boys voice. Eventually, after several months, Rui had stopped trying. Tsukasa frequently thought about trying the same tactic on Akira, but he couldn't quite bring himself to- - he knew that the red-hared boy had done nothing deserving of such treatment, and even if he had, Tsukasa wasn't quite sure he could have brought himself to sever this last tie with the past. . .
"Do you have any idea what time it is here?" Tsukasa turned from his brief reflections to growl at Akira.
"Umm. .. . Hell If I know." Akira replied nonchalantly, "What does it matter? You got some critical paperwork to shuffle or something?"
"I was sleeping. And I'd like to go back to sleep, if you don't mind."
"Oh come on! Don't be like that, " Akira cajoled, "don't you have time for your oldest friend?"
"Not when it interferes with my sleep. What do you want, Akira?" Tsukasa was getting irritated. If this conversation continued much longer, he was going to wake up fully. He hated that, because then he'd not be able to go back to sleep again. And he had a long day in front of him tomorrow. . . . Today?. .. . In the morning. Whatever.
"Hey, Tsukasa, have you ever thought about taking stress management classes? You sound a bit tense." Akira really enjoyed provoking his curly- haired friend, provided of course, there was a safe distance between the two of them. A continent and an ocean should provide enough protection, barely.
"Will you get to the point?" Tsukasa rolled over slightly, letting his eyelids drift shut, as he cradled the phone receiver against his ear; preparing to hang up and go to sleep at a second's notice.
"Fine." Akira snorted derisively, "If you're going to be like that, I guess I won't tell you the news."
"What news?" Tsukasa's eyes shot open again, as a sudden electric tingle of premonition shot down his spine.
"Oh, nothing much." Akira teased, "You probably won't care, anyway. . ."
"Akira. . ." Tsukasa's tone was full of warning.
"Fine." Tsukasa could almost hear Akira's pout, as he gave in and divulged his bit of gossip, "Sakurako's getting engaged!"
"What?!" Tsukasa was surprised, but somehow relieved at the same time. His premonition must have been wrong. He was just getting all worked up over nothing. . "Who's fool enough to marry that slut?!"
"Now Tsukasa!" Akira admonished, "That's no way to talk about a lady!"
"If she was one, I'd treat her like one." Doumyouji snorted. Nevertheless, he was disturbed by the unexpected gossip. Another person related to his past. Another person who only reminded him of what he'd had - - and lost. Goddamn Akira and his 'news' for reminding him of Tokyo and all of that. . .
Still, his curiosity was piqued, and he listened intently as Akira began an unlikely story.
"So, it turns out that Sakurako's grandmother caught her fooling around with some guy. And you know how her family is descended from old nobility, right? Yeah, so the old lady gets this idea that Sakurako's honor is at stake, and she'd better marry the poor girl off, before the family name got tarnished. Isn't that so old school? Anyway, you'd think with all their connections they'd pick someone recognizable, or at least important. . . but, I guess the Sanjo name is already faded, or else their fortunes are in worse decline than I'd thought, 'cause I've never heard of the guy. . . He's got money at least; family owns some minor electronics corporation, but oh man, you have to meet the guy. It's just too funny."
"Why would I care?" Tsukasa grumbled, even as his traitorous ears avidly picked up each word of Akira's laughingly delivered story.
"Because, the poor guy is shy! He's supposedly a third year college student at Eitoku University, but I'd never noticed him. He sort of fades into the background, y'know? Apparently, when they were introduced, Sakurako just kind of stared at him, like, 'What the hell am I supposed to do with this?' And he's so bloody nice and polite too. . I bet he's still a virgin, at that. Sakurako is totally going to break him. You have got to come back to Tokyo and see. We're all taking bets on when he's going to start screaming and run from her. It's gonna be great fun to watch her in action again." Akira's tone was positively gleeful, He for one, couldn't wait to see what trouble Sakurako stirred up with her fiancé. It was sure to provide entertainment, and, since he wasn't fond of the girl anyway, her plight couldn't upset him much.
"Thanks, but I'd rather not." Tsukasa's tone was dry. In the back of his mind, he was beginning to wonder if Akira saw the implications behind the engagement. It wasn't just that Sakurako was caught messing around; it was also the fact that she was sole heir to an old and honorable fortune, and the fact that she was the right age to marry off to secure her family's future, and that of her fiancé. Soon, the same fate would befall all of them. How would Akira laugh then, when his parents had sold him off to reinforce their holdings? Tsukasa's musings turned darker, as he thought of his brief engagement to Shigeru. . . .
There was no doubt in his mind, that his mother would try again, when she found some suitable alliance, to marry him off. But, Tsukasa refused to let the idea bother him. Fine, if that is what the company needed, then he'd marry whatever stranger they picked for him. But they could never make him love her; never make him see the woman as anything more than a business deal, a wife in name only. . . and never in deed, This he'd promised himself when he first came to New York, knowing full well what path he was choosing for himself as he did so. And a Doumyouji always kept his promises.
"What does Sakurako think about all this?" The words popped out before Tsukasa had even consciously thought of them.
"Oh well, " Akira shrugged, invisibly, on the other side of the world, "She's not pleased. But, you know her. She's taking it in stride. I expect her husband to be a whipped obedient lapdog before long, while she's out prowling the town, up to her usual tricks. You know her. You know what I mean."
"Indeed." Tsukasa pondered Akira's words. . . The future could impose its will upon them all as it chose, but how much could any of them really change from who they'd already become? And why would they even try to change, when in the greater scheme of fate, their public roles were already ordained -- rooks or knights, or even as king, on the board of corporate chess. What they thought in private was completely irrelevant to any of that . . . so long as it remained in private. . . .
And that of course, was the problem. Wasn't it always?
To be continued. . .
*Chapter One*
The phone was ringing. Loudly. Tsukasa groaned and rolled over in bed. Flinging a pillow over his head, he tried to drown out the incessant noise, in hopes that a servant or maid would pick up and take a message. No such luck. After what seemed an eternity, an answering machine picked up, to the sound of a dial tone. A few seconds later, the phone began to ring anew. Whoever was calling was certainly persistent, Tsukasa had to give them that. He could only wish it were otherwise. Didn't anyone else hear the noise? Didn't anyone else care? In his sleep-clouded stupor, Tsukasa failed to realize that the call was on his personal line, and thus that no one else could possibly be disturbed by the clamor.
Grumbling curses at the inconsiderate louts who would wake him from his much-needed beauty sleep, Tsukasa reached out a fumbling hand and snagged the bedside receiver.
"What?" he barked irately, not even bothering to ask who was calling.
"Hey Tsukasa! How's it going?"
"Akira." Tsukasa scowled sleepily. The only one of his friends who actually bothered to call on a regular basis. Tsukasa often wished he wouldn't. He'd come to New York to escape his mistakes, escape the stresses that were tearing at their group. He hated to be reminded of the way their clique had imploded, the way he'd lost Tsukushi. But Akira still called, blithely disregarding time and place. Sometimes he'd pick up the phone on a whim, first thing when he woke up in the morning, or during lunch. Sometimes he'd even call Tsukasa from the clubs, the deep bass beat rendering his words obscure, and the dialogue hazy. It didn't much matter, for usually the conversation was remarkably content-free.
While Akira wanted to check up on his moody friend and did what he could to cheer him up, Tsukasa stubbornly refused to let his friend in, and would not allow him to talk of any . . .sensitive. . . matters, such as the mere mention of Soujiro, or anything connected in any way with Tsukushi. Instead, they'd mutter inanities about the weather; how their respective families were doing; and about the state of the stock market. It wasn't much, but even so, just the sound of Akira's voice on the phone sent Tsukasa's thoughts spiraling downward, pulling him into a memory-induced depression that only time and distance could numb.
Rui had tried to call a few times too, back in the beginning. Tsukasa had never bothered to find out what the other boy wanted. Instead, he'd just hung up, at the sound of the other boys voice. Eventually, after several months, Rui had stopped trying. Tsukasa frequently thought about trying the same tactic on Akira, but he couldn't quite bring himself to- - he knew that the red-hared boy had done nothing deserving of such treatment, and even if he had, Tsukasa wasn't quite sure he could have brought himself to sever this last tie with the past. . .
"Do you have any idea what time it is here?" Tsukasa turned from his brief reflections to growl at Akira.
"Umm. .. . Hell If I know." Akira replied nonchalantly, "What does it matter? You got some critical paperwork to shuffle or something?"
"I was sleeping. And I'd like to go back to sleep, if you don't mind."
"Oh come on! Don't be like that, " Akira cajoled, "don't you have time for your oldest friend?"
"Not when it interferes with my sleep. What do you want, Akira?" Tsukasa was getting irritated. If this conversation continued much longer, he was going to wake up fully. He hated that, because then he'd not be able to go back to sleep again. And he had a long day in front of him tomorrow. . . . Today?. .. . In the morning. Whatever.
"Hey, Tsukasa, have you ever thought about taking stress management classes? You sound a bit tense." Akira really enjoyed provoking his curly- haired friend, provided of course, there was a safe distance between the two of them. A continent and an ocean should provide enough protection, barely.
"Will you get to the point?" Tsukasa rolled over slightly, letting his eyelids drift shut, as he cradled the phone receiver against his ear; preparing to hang up and go to sleep at a second's notice.
"Fine." Akira snorted derisively, "If you're going to be like that, I guess I won't tell you the news."
"What news?" Tsukasa's eyes shot open again, as a sudden electric tingle of premonition shot down his spine.
"Oh, nothing much." Akira teased, "You probably won't care, anyway. . ."
"Akira. . ." Tsukasa's tone was full of warning.
"Fine." Tsukasa could almost hear Akira's pout, as he gave in and divulged his bit of gossip, "Sakurako's getting engaged!"
"What?!" Tsukasa was surprised, but somehow relieved at the same time. His premonition must have been wrong. He was just getting all worked up over nothing. . "Who's fool enough to marry that slut?!"
"Now Tsukasa!" Akira admonished, "That's no way to talk about a lady!"
"If she was one, I'd treat her like one." Doumyouji snorted. Nevertheless, he was disturbed by the unexpected gossip. Another person related to his past. Another person who only reminded him of what he'd had - - and lost. Goddamn Akira and his 'news' for reminding him of Tokyo and all of that. . .
Still, his curiosity was piqued, and he listened intently as Akira began an unlikely story.
"So, it turns out that Sakurako's grandmother caught her fooling around with some guy. And you know how her family is descended from old nobility, right? Yeah, so the old lady gets this idea that Sakurako's honor is at stake, and she'd better marry the poor girl off, before the family name got tarnished. Isn't that so old school? Anyway, you'd think with all their connections they'd pick someone recognizable, or at least important. . . but, I guess the Sanjo name is already faded, or else their fortunes are in worse decline than I'd thought, 'cause I've never heard of the guy. . . He's got money at least; family owns some minor electronics corporation, but oh man, you have to meet the guy. It's just too funny."
"Why would I care?" Tsukasa grumbled, even as his traitorous ears avidly picked up each word of Akira's laughingly delivered story.
"Because, the poor guy is shy! He's supposedly a third year college student at Eitoku University, but I'd never noticed him. He sort of fades into the background, y'know? Apparently, when they were introduced, Sakurako just kind of stared at him, like, 'What the hell am I supposed to do with this?' And he's so bloody nice and polite too. . I bet he's still a virgin, at that. Sakurako is totally going to break him. You have got to come back to Tokyo and see. We're all taking bets on when he's going to start screaming and run from her. It's gonna be great fun to watch her in action again." Akira's tone was positively gleeful, He for one, couldn't wait to see what trouble Sakurako stirred up with her fiancé. It was sure to provide entertainment, and, since he wasn't fond of the girl anyway, her plight couldn't upset him much.
"Thanks, but I'd rather not." Tsukasa's tone was dry. In the back of his mind, he was beginning to wonder if Akira saw the implications behind the engagement. It wasn't just that Sakurako was caught messing around; it was also the fact that she was sole heir to an old and honorable fortune, and the fact that she was the right age to marry off to secure her family's future, and that of her fiancé. Soon, the same fate would befall all of them. How would Akira laugh then, when his parents had sold him off to reinforce their holdings? Tsukasa's musings turned darker, as he thought of his brief engagement to Shigeru. . . .
There was no doubt in his mind, that his mother would try again, when she found some suitable alliance, to marry him off. But, Tsukasa refused to let the idea bother him. Fine, if that is what the company needed, then he'd marry whatever stranger they picked for him. But they could never make him love her; never make him see the woman as anything more than a business deal, a wife in name only. . . and never in deed, This he'd promised himself when he first came to New York, knowing full well what path he was choosing for himself as he did so. And a Doumyouji always kept his promises.
"What does Sakurako think about all this?" The words popped out before Tsukasa had even consciously thought of them.
"Oh well, " Akira shrugged, invisibly, on the other side of the world, "She's not pleased. But, you know her. She's taking it in stride. I expect her husband to be a whipped obedient lapdog before long, while she's out prowling the town, up to her usual tricks. You know her. You know what I mean."
"Indeed." Tsukasa pondered Akira's words. . . The future could impose its will upon them all as it chose, but how much could any of them really change from who they'd already become? And why would they even try to change, when in the greater scheme of fate, their public roles were already ordained -- rooks or knights, or even as king, on the board of corporate chess. What they thought in private was completely irrelevant to any of that . . . so long as it remained in private. . . .
And that of course, was the problem. Wasn't it always?
To be continued. . .