We Were Blind

-2-


There had been a lot of women in Hikaru Hitachiin's life.

Some he wined and dined, then ran way from. Some out of his reach and some he threw away like garbage.
They were beautiful. All of them just shy from perfection. The kind of people that surrounded him always were. They had to be. Their eyes always glittering, batting long curled eyelashes. There was always someone sitting in his lap and smearing their lipstick on him. Such was the life of the rich and eligible.

He knew they didn't love him. They thought as little about him as he did them. They loved getting to run their claws down his back and shove their tongues down his throat. They loved being pampered at night then ditched in the morning. And he knew he was only being used just as much as he was using them. That was their thrill. That was what they considered fun.

And with his mother as his puppet master, dangling an arranged marriage over his head, he loved cutting the strings and having a lot of fun.

There were girls he made cry. Girls he mad angry. Girls he humiliated. He'd been slapped and shouted at, and if he had kept all the glasses of wine that were splashed into his face, he could start his own winery.

A lot Women loved him.

A lot of women hated him.

But Haruhi Fujioka, who had never even seen his face, seemed to hate him the most.

For absolutely no reason.

Which is what he accused her of, but Ranka had finally found his way back inside the apartment and stopped herself before she could reply. Eventually The social worker, who's name he finally remembered being Yamamoto, convinced her father that they would try this for three days, and if Haruhi still wasn't happy. They would find a replacement. And he, as Yamakoto threatened, would spend the rest of his community service giving sponge baths and cleaning bed pans if he screwed up and didn't make peace with the "poor blind girl."

"Harmless" he called her. "She can't see you."

"It'll be easy" he said.

"I don't need you here." Her voice stabbed him, pulling him out of his sulk. "I can take care of myself."

Hikaru sighed. They were supposed to be discussing sleeping arrangements, but after she suggested that he sleep outside they gave up on that topic.

"Can you?" he mocked, leaning half across the table. It wasn't everyday he could look at a girl however he wanted. She couldn't get angry at the churlish grin on his face. She couldn't even see it. She had hadn't even made eye contact with him, and when she finally did. Her eyes looked lost. Like they were staring into themselves.

He could make all the faces he wanted at her. Her only reaction was getting angry and she couldn't move away. In a sense; she was a perfect toy.

Although he did need to make a good impression. The last thing he wanted was to fail at something so easy as getting the attention of a girl. And he'd never live it down if he had to spend the next six months feeding old people. The whole bar scandal was already going to shadow over his reputation.

His eyes lit up as a thought occurred to him.

"Tell you want." He chimed suddenly, perching his chin on his elbow. "Let's play a game."

She stiffened.

He watched her face closely, taking an abandoned cup from the corner of the table, and placing it in front of him. Haruhi didn't move. Her brow twitched as she was trying to concentrate.

He then took the half full water pitcher off the side table and sat it in front of her.

"And I'll make you a deal," he said, wholeheartedly, slumping back against the pillow on the floor. "If you can pour that water into this cup without spilling any, I'll call your father personally, and tell him you don't need me, and I'll leave."

Hikaru looked at her from under his lashes, like a scheming business man. "Fair?"

She was quiet for a moment, as if to consider, but that's what he wanted. They both knew she couldn't do it, maybe she could figure it out if she tried, but if she couldn't, she'd just be playing into his stupid game and make a fool of herself. He just wanted to be right. He was the "care-giver" and that somehow made him think that he should be the one in charge.

That always gave people a rush. Helping someone less fortunate, didn't it? Helping someone who was poorer than you. Someone less capable than you. Someone who was "Broken". Everyone wanted to feel like a good person. But he wanted her to feel helpless. He wanted her to need him help so he could feel above her.

She didn't need him to tell her she was broken. She felt it. She couldn't see the smug look on his face, but she could hear it. He was making fun of her. He didn't want to be here and his intentions reflected that, so he wanted to make it as fun for him as possible.

"I don't need to prove anything," Haruhi muttered sourly. "I don't need your help."

He scoffed. "So you can't do it?"

"I don't want to."

"Because you can't."

She couldn't see it, but he was smirking and it made her stomach turn.

Haruhi tightened her jaw and went for the handle of the water pitcher, before her other hand reached for the glass cup. It was further away and had to feel around the table to find it. Their fingers awkwardly brushed along themselves and after laughing out loud, he graciously assisted her by pushing the cup into her hand.

Apparently that was gratifying, as he sat back, pressing a fist in front of his Cheshire grin. She couldn't see it, but the gesture in itself made her want to vomit. Once she lifted the pitcher off the table, her hands were lost. She started to shake, and the longer she hesitated, the more he enjoyed it.

This was stupid, but it scared her. She hadn't done anything since the accident last week. Her father waited on her hand and foot. Not because she wanted him to, but if hadn't she would have wasted away on the couch. She refused to eat. She couldn't sleep. Because she really couldn't do anything without tripping and stumbling, or dropping something.

Her father asked for a care-taker after she had broken three teacups and almost fell down the stairs.

She did need help. She knew that.

But she didn't want it.

Especially not from someone like him.

Hand still holding the pitcher in the air, she moved the cup ever so slightly out of the way, and, with a gently turn of her wrist tipped the pitcher over and poured.

He started to laugh again in an I-told-you-so kind of tone. Until, the water hit the table with a bursting splash, as she turned the pitcher completely upside down.

Hikaru's jaw fell. "...Wha-"

And he nearly jumped off the floor when she took the pitcher in both her hands, and threw it across the room. He choked on a gasp as it struck the wall and hit the floor in pieces.

It was quiet, as he had completely swallowed his words, until she spoke up again.

"Clean this up."

He jerked around, eyes and mouth both open wide.

"Wha-" he sputtered. "N-No! You did that on purpose!"

"I bet it looks pretty awful in here now," she muttered, listening to the water drip off the table onto the carpet. "It's almost as if..."

She looked up towards him. "The new care-taker... took advantage of the poor defenseless blind woman."

Hikaru looked down the phone sitting in her lap. "You can't just-"

"I wonder who my father would believe."

He gasped. "You wouldn't."

She glared and Hikaru could practically see the iron prison bar fall down around him.

"Clean it up."


"And then she just walked away!"

"Ah."

"I can't do this anymore, Kaoru."

"It's only been a few hours..."

"She's insane," he almost cried into the phone, but quickly caught himself, afraid a certain someone might be listening. "I'd rather bathe old people than live here. Do something."

There was a long, drawn out sigh that rippled static through his cellphone and Hikaru rolled his eyes. Honestly, he didn't call for a lecture. "What do you want me to do? So you had to mop up water and take out the trash. Honestly Hikaru, this could be good for you."

Hikaru's groaned, and fell against the brick wall behind the apartment. He couldn't remember the last time he actually took out garbage, and was still trying to forget how degrading it felt sweeping up glass as she watched. Of course, she couldn't see him, but she looked pretty smug.

"I don't even know what to do." He sighed. Maybe it was the foreign responsibility, having to care for another person, but he was starting to feel desperate. A little training would have been nice, at least. Even a to-do list would have sufficed. It was like he was taking care of someone's rabid dog."It's not fair. I didn't ask for this either. Why is she being like this?"

Kaoru laughed. "It's only for a little while-"

"But she's so mean."

"Were you mean to her?" He asked.

"No." Hikaru shot back defensively, then hesitated. "... she started it."

"So you were being kind of a dick?"

"I didn't do anything. She's been like this since I walked through the door-"

"For gods sakes, Hikaru. She's blind." he was interrupted again, and nearly threw his eyes to the back of his head when he was momentarily put on hold. "Try to be a bit nicer to her, eh?" Kaoru said when he returned. "Put yourself in her shoes. If you're friends, your service hours will be over in no time."

He scoffed. Friends. "Sure."

"I have everything under control here. You just focus on that grumpy little kitten of yours." Kaoru's voice fell distant again, just as Hikaru was correcting him, that Haruhi was more like an angry racoon dog than a kitten. "She's not even pretty." He added curtly, as if that was important enough to mention.

"I don't like her." He continued. "I hate it here. I didn't even do anything to deserve this. I bet I could sue-"

"Huh? uh... yeah." Kaoru muttered to someone else, before turning back to Hikaru. "I gotta go. Mom's calling. Make sure to behave, okay, Hika? Call me if anything exciting happens."

"But-"

"And be nice."

"Kaoru." He wined as the call ended. He huffed and let the phone slide somewhere into his deep coat pocket with another throatful groan. Yeah, sure. Be nice.

"I am nice." he grumbled to himself, stomping back up the stairs, back to Satan's lair. It was her fault. If he so much as breathed in her direction she'd stare with murder in her eyes, and god forbid he help her grab something she couldn't see or reach. He thought she was going to throw that book at him.

That's fine, he threw the door open, two can play at that game.

"We've gotta set some ground rules." He kicked the door shut, catching sight of her sitting on the sofa, clearly ignoring him. "First rule, no more breaking stuff."

Haruhi sat against the cushions, with her feet curled beneath her, as she flipped a page of her book. "You missed a spot."

He glared. "You wouldn't know."

He actually missed a lot of spots, but he wasn't going to tell her that and he was giving himself an 'A for effort'.

"And secondly, you're not going to boss me around." He crossed his arms, trying to form some kind of dominance. "You're blind, not a child. Unless you want me to call your father and tell him about your little hissy fit."

She brought her knees to her chest, tightening her fingers around her book. But she didn't say anything, and he smirked arrogantly to himself, amused that he finally caught her biting her tongue. Now if only she'd stay like that.

"And thirdly-"

Hikaru found himself accidentally biting his own tongue when she threw her book down on the table. He spun around, ready to change rule three into "and stop throwing things" as she stood from the couch. She stumbled a bit, when her hand missed the wall to steady herself, and a voice in his head told him to help her, but the petty side just said "let her fall" so he stiffly turned away.

The walkway was tiny, so it wasn't hard to find herself round, but it was crowded, and having only took a few steps forward, she bumped into his shoulder. Which of course, only sent him into another laughing fit.

"Get out of my way." She growled.

Hikaru shrugged, and stepped aside.

Apparently it wasn't far enough, she pushed him anyway, and started for one of the doors in the dark corner.

"Don't get lost." He called out.

She didn't respond, feeling around the wall for the doorknob.

"Don't panic, Haruhi. Just follow my voice. Marco!"

"Fuck you."

"You're supposed to say Polo. "

He sighed as the door slammed shut.

"That's okay, we'll try again tomorrow."