I'm on a bit of a spree right now, writing-wise, and I will be absolutely amazed if I manage to keep this up. Hopefully the quality hasn't suffered due to the quick updates - I guess you guys are the judges of that! Many, many thanks to the reviewers of the previous chapter: Tamuril2 and Akora17. You guys really are the best.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Chapter 3:
For several long, unbearable moments, no one spoke. Ritsu and Mitsuru were frozen in place, and neither was capable of producing anything resembling coherent speech. Shigure simply watched them, his expression growing increasingly gleeful with every passing second.
"Rit-chan, are you harassing my editor?" he finally asked.
With unimaginable speed, Ritsu flung himself backwards onto the pavement with a rather painful-sounding thud. His light brown hair, only recently cut, parted helplessly along the back of his head. "I never should have dared," he whimpered. "I'm sorry. I'm the scum of the earth."
"I never would have believed it," Shigure continued, showing absolutely no mercy. "You of all people. Don't you have any dignity?"
"No dignity at all," Ritsu wept, covering his head with the sleeves of his kimono. "Mitsuru-san, I am not worthy to be in your presence. I'm so sorry!"
But Mitsuru made no reply. Shigure's initial barb hadn't been aimed at Ritsu alone. With only two words, he had pierced Mitsuru's soul. "My editor?" she repeated incredulously.
"Is something wrong, Mit-chan?" Shigure asked. He smiled pleasantly and lifted his cup to take another quick sip of coffee.
"My editor?"
"I know you still bear some hard feelings towards me, but when I come out of retirement – because retirement is never supposed to be permanent – you're welcome to come back to me. I promise I have more manuscripts to show you." Somehow he managed to keep a completely straight face as he lied through his teeth.
"You never have manuscripts to show me!" Mitsuru roared, hurling a finger of accusation at her former employer. "And worst of all, you are an unrepentant violator of deadlines!"
"Mit-chan, don't you think you're overreacting?"
"You violate deadlines. I will never again be your editor."
"But I hate deadlines," he whined.
The poor woman's entire body was shaking with rage. "Ritsu-san would never violate a deadline."
They both glanced at the hapless man groveling on the concrete pavement. "No, I don't think he would," Shigure said reflectively. It was only then that Mitsuru's words truly sank in. "But tell me, why would Ritsu need to keep a deadline?"
A long pause. A car drove by. Several birds tweeted from a nearby tree. Out on the street, someone was cursing her no-good husband. Without warning, Shigure hurled himself at Ritsu and hauled his trembling body up from the ground. "So. You too have deadlines now? What's going on? Tell me. Tell me everything. You can trust me. You can always tell me everything. Also, you've mussed your robe."
"Tell him nothing," Mitsuru hissed.
But Ritsu could never refuse a direct command from his beloved cousin, the hero of his childhood. "I-I am also writing a b-book…"
Shigure released the man and allowed him to flop haplessly back onto the ground. "I knew it!" he exclaimed. "And Mitsuru is your editor? Is that what's going on? This is too charming. This should be the topic of my next novel. Of course, I'll make plenty of perverted additions…"
"Nii-san!" Ritsu exclaimed from his place on the ground, mustering every last remnant of courage. "P-Please don't tell Akito-san." As soon as he uttered the words, he realized what a grievous mistake he had made.
Immediately Shigure froze. "Why shouldn't I tell Akito?" he asked in a low voice. "What is this book about?"
Unaware of what she was saying, and eager to defend the honor of her new client and friend, Mitsuru chimed in. "It's about a cursed family, and it's really very good, and more importantly, Ritsu-san will keep all his deadlines."
"A cursed family," Shigure softly repeated to himself. More loudly, he said, "Ritsu, you'd better send me your manuscript."
"No, he will not!" Mitsuru protested, pulling on Shigure's sleeves. "I am his editor, and you have no right…"
"You are my editor forever and always, and if this manuscript is what I think it is, Ritsu will disgrace the Sohma family." He glanced back and forth between the trembling editor and the horrorstruck young writer, and after a brief of silence, he grinned. "I hope there's something scandalous happening here. Then I'll really have something to write about!" With that, his work was done. He turned on his heel and skipped away as though not a cross word had been uttered.
It was a beautiful day, but everything seemed black to Mitsuru now that the Demon King had made an appearance. Completely overcome, she cast herself onto the cement beside Ritsu's prostrate form. "I'm not his editor…" she murmured to no one in particular.
"I'm going to disgrace my family…"
"I'm not his editor."
"I'm unworthy of this earth."
"I'm not his editor."
"The world would be better off without me."
"I'm not his editor!"
Ritsu opened his teary eyes and looked at the woman beside him. She was not in a good condition at all. This was no time for self-pity – this was a time for action. Mitsuru needed some sort of help. Did Ritsu know what sort of help that was? No. Was he worthy to offer help to such a wonderful human being? Of course not. But something had to be done.
"Are you… alright?" he quietly asked her.
She only moaned in response. It was astonishing how severely Shigure had traumatized her. Apart from the psychological damage, Ritsu also suspected that she had thrown herself on the ground with slightly too much force and had significantly dazed herself.
What should I do? What can someone as unworthy as me do? he frantically asked himself. He had absolutely no idea. But maybe resting at home would help her? "Would you, um, like to go home?"
This time he received no reply at all. Yes, taking her home was the only thing to do. Fortunately, she lived nearby. She had suggested the café as a meeting place because of its convenient location. Ritsu would definitely be able to walk her home. Maybe he could accomplish something useful at all.
For the second time that day, he placed his hands on her waist. Gently, he pulled her upwards until she was able to put some weight on her own legs. "I'm not his editor," she informed him.
"N-No, you are definitely not his editor," Ritsu agreed. "Um, I'm going to take you home. You live on this street, d-don't you?"
She nodded twice. "Apartment number 301D." Her voice was barely audible.
"G-Good. You can, uh, lean on me, if you want. We can walk together." He was still supporting much of her weight as they began to walk. They moved slowly but steadily, one step at a time. The apartment was not far at all. As they walked, Ritsu tried to avoid looking down at her – he was not worthy. A brief thought passed through his mind – Doesn't it feel nice to hold her? – and he immediately dismissed it, horrified that he could be so brazen.
They reached the steps of the apartment building, and Ritsu continued to support Mitsuru as they climbed to the second floor. He released her a little regretfully before the door labeled 301D. "You're not his editor," he told her in as firm a voice as he could manage.
She smiled weakly. "Thank you," she said, pulling her keys from her purse and unlocking the door. "That was kind of heroic, wasn't it?"
The word "heroic" had never before been applied to Ritsu. Its use very nearly sent him into shock. He wanted to protest that he was undeserving of such praise, but he didn't want to disturb Mitsuru even more by protesting. Perhaps just this once, he could accept a compliment.
Mitsuru had opened the door and was stepping inside. "Um, would you… like to come in for a moment?" she asked, blushing shyly. "You must be tired after carrying me back."
"No, I'm not tired at all…" he protested. But then he realized that it would be rude to refuse her offer, and he didn't ever want to be rude to her, so he stepped inside and allowed her to close the door behind him.
Her apartment was sparsely furnished, but had enough homey touches to make Ritsu feel immediately at ease – not an easy feat. Mitsuru gestured to a mat on the floor. "Please, make yourself at home."
He sat, and after pouring two glasses of water, she joined him. "Thank you," she said for the second time as she handed him a glass. "I don't know why Shigure always gets to me. I just feel very powerless around him… and weak. Like he owns me."
"I think you're very powerful," Ritsu blurted out. He blushed deeply as she fixed her large brown eyes upon him. Her short hair just made her eyes even more noticeable. "What I mean to s-say is that you're very, um, capable, and when you were talking about my manuscript you seemed very c-confident. So no matter how nii-san makes you feel, I know that you're very… powerful." He glanced away, anxious about how she might respond to this speech. But when he looked back, she was smiling at him. And she looked lovely.
"Thank you," she said once again. "That's actually very comforting."
"I hoped it would be," he replied. There was a brief silence, but before it could grow particularly tense, he immediately said, "And also, I p-promise to always meet my deadlines! Since you're my editor now, I have to respect you. B-But of course I would respect you anyways! But as an editor, um, there's even more respect…"
"I knew what you meant," Mitsuru said, laughing. After a few seconds, during which Ritsu's unruly mind noted how nice Mitsuru's laugh sounded, she grew serious. "I like that you called me your editor."
"Well, you're not Shigure-nii-san's editor."
"I am not his editor." She was smiling broadly now. Abruptly, she stood and vanished into the kitchen of the modest apartment. "I thought I was doing you a favor by reading your book, but you're helping me just as much!" she said from within the other room. She was infinitely grateful that Ritsu could not see how she blushed when she uttered those words.
"Really?" Ritsu breathed. He could scarcely believe his ears. Surely he hadn't actually done something useful. The scum of the earth never did useful things.
"Yes," she said firmly as she put all her energy into scrubbing several dishes that she had left in the sink"You've helped me in many ways today." A sudden thought struck her, and she found herself compelled to return to the living room. "But, Ritsu-san…"
"What? What did I do? I'm so sorry!" The man leapt to his feet, prepared to offer his life in exchange for her forgiveness.
"No, I'm sorry." She paused and looked at the floor. Belatedly, she realized that she was still holding a dish towel. "I don't know why, but it seems I caused you trouble by telling the Demon King the topic of your novel. I'm very sorry for that. I hope you don't face too many difficulties."
Ritsu shook his head. "I chose a troublesome topic. But it's alright. I will send nii-san the manuscript and see what he thinks."
"You mustn't send him the manuscript!" Mitsuru burst out. "I'm not angry at all," she hastily added, seeing that Ritsu was on the brink of an apology. "Here, let me take your tumbler." She pried the glass gently from his hand.
"I have to do it," he said, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he unprotestingly watched her take the glass. He idly thought that he liked how neatly she dressed. "If I don't, the head of our family could get involved, and that would be bad for everyone. Maybe for you, too." He looked earnestly up at her, and Mitsuru could read in his face: I will not let things get bad for you.
Privately, she thought that he looked very handsome when he grew serious. "At the very least, don't send the manuscript immediately. Wait a little bit. Maybe my evil ex-client will forget."
"Maybe," Ritsu agreed, thought he highly doubted that that would happen. Shigure would certainly not forget, and once he read the ill-fated manuscript, there was a very good chance that he would command Ritsu to stop writing. He couldn't even imagine what might happen if Akito got involved. He had been fortunate in that Akito had never paid him much notice before. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention to himself after so many years of peaceful solitude.
It was a tricky affair, made even trickier by the fact that Ritsu's only talent was prostrating himself on the floor in agony. Still, with Mitsuru smiling at him in support and gratitude, he felt strangely, and perhaps wrongly, hopeful.
"You're welcome to stay for dinner," she offered unexpectedly, surprising even herself.
"But that would inconvenience you..."
"No, it would not," she insisted. "I would like you to stay."
And with those six words, almost entirely foreign to Ritsu's lonely ears, she made him feel for perhaps the first time that there was no need to apologize.
Hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'd love to hear what you think, if you have the time to leave a note.