Of Cigarettes and Grape Vines
~chapter four~
Sunglasses in the Dark
The lights flickered in sync with the chugging of the train, and she watched as the world passed by her in complete darkness. Unable to make out the view, she went back to leafing through the book in her hands, not at all in the mood for reading.
Her last week in collage was by far the worst she'd ever had. She tried to stay positive and impassive through it all but sometimes staying calm proved harder than she'd thought.
She ended up throwing some tantrums, undergoing fits of madness and incomprehensible screams.
They begged her to leave.
When their father suggested a visit to the countryside, she agreed, albeit dubious, to go and open an outlet to her anger. Maybe shout on top of a mountain or kick some logs.
The world was such a mystery to her, and life manifested itself in the corners of said mystery. She has yet to encounter a corner that seemed welcoming. The world was mean and unmoved by her pleas, and she found it increasingly hard to accept her lack of fortune and move on.
She sighed, glancing around discreetly. An old man caught her glimpse and winked in what he probably thought was seductive; he then stuck out his tongue, and rolled it in small circles, all the while jerking off an invisible penis.
Cringing, she trained her eyes back on the book, still feeling his eyes burning holes in her back.
Finally when the train halted, and she spotted the large neon sign that read: Welcome to Whirlpool, Temari gathered her things as fast as possible and descended down, hoping that life had a corner to spare where dirty old men didn't exist.
For some reason, she glanced back to see the man throwing her kisses, doing the exact same motions he did mere minutes ago. She was glad when an old woman behind him smacked his head with her burse, resulting in the man giving the old lady the finger, which she returned in such style. The train moved back into motion before Temari could witness the rest of their quarrel.
In a way, however, she was not happy when the chilly air slapped her bare legs and shoulders like tiny paper-cuts and jabbed at her face like a bucket filled with snow.
Gaara was going to pay for this with his balls.
The train station, to say the least, was a very simple place. Two platforms on either side of the railroad, made by stones meticulously pressed next to each other; small, granite cottages built on the far ends of the podium, hedged by tree branches.
Red, erratically placed lampposts adorned the platform, lighting the way for her. Although it was veiled in complete darkness, she could make the shapes of the high hills that surrounded the place like giant, faceless monsters.
Spotting a lonely wooden bench under the neon sign, Temari approached it while pulling out her cellphone, making it to call one of her brothers. Sitting down, she dialed Gaara's number.
There was no signal.
Temari grunted indignantly. Her luck was as bright as ever.
She looked around, searching for anyone in sight despite knowing full well she isn't going to ask for their help. It was something so innate in her, not seeking interaction, but still wishing for the presence of other people.
However, looking again, she could almost make out a glint in the darkness few feet away from her bench. Temari squinted hard enough to make out the shape of something, severed in half and floating in the air.
She tilted her head, not sure if what she's seeing was a living thing.
"Can I help you with something?"
Temari opened her mouth a little, and then closed it. "I thought you were a ghost."
"I could be a ghost."
She scoffed, returning back to her unsuccessful dialing attempts. After a long moment of wondering why this world continued to hate her, Temari, still sensing the stranger's presence, faced towards the low humming noise said stranger was making. "Where can I get a-"
"A signal?" he renewed. "You can't. Not here."
Not pleased with his interruption, -as the voice definitely belonged to a male- Temari shifted her attention to the empty rail below the platform. Then suddenly, she was engulfed in darkness when the bright neon sign that lit over her head seconds ago gave out.
The only light now was the faint one emitting from the lampposts. It illuminated the rail, giving the trees and cottages in both sides an eerie feel, adorning them with fluttering shadows.
The moon was blotted by clouds, adding to the dread of this place.
Temari checked her phone's clock, and found it to be way past yesterday. She consoled herself that it was quite early when she boarded the train, and thus it was far from it being her fault for arriving at such a late hour.
If you could call two in the morning a late hour, anyway.
Compelling herself into patience, Temari pulled her pack of cigarettes from her bag in an attempt to forget the unfriendly coldness that continued to assault her body through her thin layer of clothes.
"You smoke?" the stranger asked, seconds after she lit her first smoke for the day.
Her lips formed a smirk around the cigarette. "It's quite obvious I do."
"I see. Why do you smoke?"
Temari scoffed. "The real, very dire question is: Did I, in a way, do something with my body to invite you?" she paused, searching in the silence for a reaction. "Or did I give you a cue to continue this conversation?"
"Then I suppose one requires a permission to speak with you?"
Taking a long, satisfying drag of her cigarette, she answered. "Stranger do, yes."
"Then can I speak with you?"
Temari scratched her brow. "What is it that you want?"
"I just want to talk with you."
She thoughtlessly passed over his answer. "Listen here buddy, I have one thin hair that stands between calm and furious, and I think the robe you're playing on is rather loose."
"But I've found myself balancing rather stably on the loose robe you've just mentioned."
She threw her head back, vision filled with the black sky above her. "What next, you're gonna recite some poetry?"
"Do you want me to recite poetry?"
Finding this 'talk' to be going nowhere, she returned to peering at the dimly lit railroad, stepping on the spent cigarette and making it to light another one. It annoyed her how that presence lingered at the side of her glance, still shrouded in darkness and the only thing she could see was the far flickering glint.
It relentlessly peaked at her curiosity, but she made no move to further a conversation or close the distance. And suddenly, the stranger spoke.
"I interest you."
Temari almost burst out laughing. If only there weren't as many delusional people as there actually were, maybe then the world might've given her some attention.
"Are we reenacting some bad movie?" she asked, amused.
"I'm afraid we might, but not yet."
"Sheesh, just drop the act already; I won't judge you or anything." she assured him, not entirely honest.
"But you sound like such a judgmental person." the stranger replied, still speaking calmly.
"And you sound like a pretentious douchebag who probably stands here every night to pick on people, or worse, girls." Temari retorted. "You're some geek who's got no friends and too much time on hand that you have no idea what better things to do than pretend people are interested in you."
A hoarse chuckle sounded from the stranger's spot. "I cannot deny that's exactly what I do, but I must disagree with your rather errant opinion on my douchebaggery." silence ensued before the stranger continued. "I do, in fact, have friends, but what I have the most is too much time on my hand. So, you are not entirely wrong."
Temari peered at where he was standing, hoping she's staring him in the eye. For a while they spoke no words, until she sighed, moving to the bench's far end. "What about you come here? I feel at disadvantage when you're the only one able to see my face."
It took some time before the stranger stepped out of the darkness like some fairy-tale creature, tall and vague-looking, and just as cryptic as his answers.
She snickered. "That's some sense of style you got there."
From what she gathered, people would often glance at their clothes upon hearing such remark, but this one seemingly ignored her comment and approached the bench, sitting beside her and keeping enough distance between them.
She found herself appreciating his sense of space.
"I will take that as a compliment." he said.
Temari snorted. "You should, 'cause that's as far as I'm commenting on this atrocity."
"At least I'm warm."
He reminded –rather harshly- of the unforgiving chilliness. "Asshole." She muttered under her breath, withdrawing smoke from her cigarette, hopefully poking her patience into work once again.
"You're not going to offer me your jacket?" she asked friskily.
"No."
Temari scrunched her face, tapping her cigarette to get rid of the ash. "That was not the answer I hoped for."
"But that's the answer you got."
She rolled her eyes. "Are you socially challenged?"
"As much as anyone is." he replied placidly, maintaining the bothersome air surrounding him.
"You're annoying me."
He leaned against the bench's back, clothed arms at his sides. "But am I burning that thin hair between calm and furious?"
That stranger was beginning to tap on her nerves, but she had learned, as the family marked her tempter from a young age, to enter into a more serene state of mind, in which everything was composed and where she acted a bit more cordial.
Since she'd been more or less in an uncoordinated state for the past week, Temari decided to give herself a break by being a little less harsh on the stranger's ass. "Believe me if you did they won't be able to find your remnants."
"Why? Because there will be nothing left of me when you're done or because you'll hide my corpse some place in the woods?"
"No, I'll be shitting you in a toilet. I tend to eat annoying people."
"So you perceive me as annoying?" he asked, looking at her for the first time since he sat next to her. It didn't matter however as his dark glasses and high collar hid most of his face.
Temari still felt at disadvantage, not given enough visual clues about the other's emotions. His monotone also revealed nothing, which only added to her indisposition.
She answered him anyway, hoping she'd pin him through his words. "I believe you're annoying me on purpose. You enjoy my reactions."
"And you're just as inflexible as you sound when I do so."
Feeling triumphant, Temari leaned back, grinning. "Wanna smoke?"
He shook his head. "I don't smoke."
Pulling a cigarette out of her pack, she urged it towards him. "Maybe you would today? Cigarettes are not very enjoyable when smoked alone. Everybody knows that."
Hesitant, the tall guy took the cigarette from her hand, putting it not in his mouth, but in his pocket. "So you have a mouth there too?" Temari miffed, this time she driving him into a reaction.
The stranger shook his head again. "No, I'm keeping it for later."
Temari sighed, deciding to leave him be. "So what now?" she asked him.
"Now I wish you would let me see, if only for this night."
Even though the words were quite… soulful, they were said in such insipidity that she could not but stare at him with incertitude. "What are you even talking about?"
All of a sudden, the stranger stood up, dusting his ridiculous long coat. "Tell me your destination."
"What?"
"Where are you heading, tell me?" he asked again, not once rising above his equable tone.
Temari started fishing inside her bag for the hastily written address Kankuro gave her. Once she found it between the lipsticks and the tampons and the empty cigarette packs, she stood up as well, handing it to the tall guy.
He hummed. "The Uzumaki residence-that's a long walk."
"There are no cars?" she inquired.
The tall stranger turned to her, handing the small paper back. "No, not in this area. We're not too far from town, but to reach the Uzumaki land we'll have to cross the woods."
"Were those Uzumaki folk some vampire shit?"
"I'm afraid they're still alive and well, but they're a little reclusive, and have a tight net of friends of whom neither I nor my family are part of. I know of no other way there but to cross the woods."
Temari watched as the tall guy jumped off the platform and over the railroad, walking before her to the forest ahead.
"Uh, excuse me, sir. I'm afraid I'm going with you nowhere; into the woods, no less. Very subtle, I must admit." she said, caustic.
He turned around. "Subtle…?"
Temari placed a hand on her hip. "Yes. I mean what would assure me you're not hiding anything under that coat of yours."
He tipped his head forward. "Do I look like I would hide anything?"
"You look like you could be anything, really. Your coat happened to unleash my imagination."
"So I get you wish to go into the woods alone?"
Realizing he might be her only 'current' chance to reach her destination, Temari agreed to his temporary company, though still insisted on rounding up town.
"Anything better than going into a forest with a stranger." she told him, shoving the cigarettes pack and the address paper in her stuffed bag.
It was going to be a long night, -or morning- she just knew.
"Why is there no goddamn signal?!" Temari shouted to the heavens, holding her currently useless phone in a death grip.
"People are staring at you." the tall guy next to her informed coolly, talking for the first time since they left the station.
She sneered at him. "Do I look like I care?"
"Not right now, no."
"Then don't tell me what to do!" she yelled at him, and he lowered his head, the shadow of his large hoodie concealing what features he allowed the world to see.
Temari looked around them; the area they were crossing was a mess of bars and gas stations, convenient stores and hookers leaning against poles, glancing at passers with half-lidded eyes, their clothes leaving nothing to the imagination.
The neon lights she became accustomed to in this town flashed brightly, defying the darkness of the night and turning the place into one huge lamp.
"Do you want something to drink?" the stranger asked her, pointing out to a relatively decent looking bar ahead of them.
She huffed. "I don't have time to go into bars; I need to reach that damned house."
The stranger, losing none of his composer, pointed once again to a vending machine at one of the gas stations. "Then we could get something from there."
Perhaps a drink wasn't very bad after a trying day, and so she agreed, walking alongside him to the station amidst the nosy-looking people and their inquisitive stares.
As if reading her mind, the stranger spoke. "They're staring because you present another world to them. They find you interesting."
"More like leering, and not staring." she told him, folding her arms as if it would protect her from their ravenous eyes. "Anyway, I thought Whirlpool had a fair amount of tourists. Why would I be any different?"
"Why you ask," the tall guy fetched a coin from one of the many pockets in his long coat. "It is because of me."
Before she could ask what he meant by that, he asked her. "Beer?"
Temari shrugged. "Beer is fine."
As if not seeing the designated slit, he rather clumsily slipped two coins in the vending machine and got them both two beer cans, the logo unfamiliar to her. She pointed to the ancient man's face plastered on the can, a dizzying swirl behind his disembodied torso. "What kind of beer is this?"
"It's a Whirlpool beer." he replied.
"Thought so; I've never seen this brand before."
"This man is the one who introduced beer to this town when all it had was wine. He became quite famous after that." he informed her blankly, tapping on the can's surface three times before opening the lid.
Temari found it rather ridiculous to put a man's face on a beer can just because he did something like slaking a town's thirst for a new drink, but she enclosed her fingers around his face as the stranger guided her out of the dazzling lamp, and into a soil, dusty road, overshadowed by a canopy over their heads, formed by the tangled branches of the trees that lined the route. It blocked the moon, but the further they walked inside, the more they were closer to a wan, orange light at the end.
Remembering her destination, Temari thought back to why in the world are they staying in an inhabited house instead of renting a cabana or some other shit. It built an even taller ladder to her suspicions about that man's intentions.
He better not be up for something, she thought, not wishing to be –once again- a pawn on their father's chess board.
Inhaling deeply, she asked her companion, whose presence beside her still resembled that of a loitering phantom. "So who are those Uzumakis anyway?"
The stranger seemed to wait for her to open her can, possibly to indicate she's giving him her full attention. When silence returned, and the only voice heard was their footsteps on the hard soil, he answered. "It is rumored their wine industry is what kept Whirlpool standing as long as it did, and thus it's the reason for much scorn towards them. Three years ago, the mayor attempted an agreement with them, a deal where half their yearly income goes to the town's reconstruction. Due to a long history of shared interests, they agreed."
Temari scoffed, suddenly all the pieces falling in place; their father was absolutely here for business. "Sounds like the old man picked some wealthy people to hang around with. So like him."
"The old man?" the guy inquired, glancing at her.
She shrugged half-heartedly. "I like to think I was born into another family, for another parents, but that old man happens to be my father."
The tall stranger looked up at the sky, the pale moon finally visible through the tangled branches and the leaves. "The world could be very small…"
"What do you mean by that?" she asked him, taking another sip from her beer, actually liking the distinct taste of butter that clung to the back of her throat.
"Why, you ask; it's like the chance of us meeting at the station. You could've met anyone, but you met me, which is the world's way of showing how small yet indiscernible it could be."
Temari pinched her eyebrows. "I'm not entirely sure what you're talking about."
"Me neither." he retorted, and then stopped on his track. "There are few rocks ahead of us, aren't there?"
Following his shaded gaze, Temari found that indeed, there was a small highland at the end of the soil road. At one side, it succumbed under several large rocks that mounted over one another, and on the other side, there seemed to be a set of stairs that led somewhere under the hill.
She glanced back at him. "I suggest you take off those glasses; aren't they blinding you a little?"
He sauntered past her, and upon reaching the knoll and sitting on of the rocks, he lowered down his hoodie and found his voice. "The only way one would be blind is by not being able to see the beauty of our world."
Temari trotted after him, a smile finding a way to her face at the sight of the smooth, egg-shaped shaven rocks; taken from a river, perhaps?
Finding a spot higher than the one he occupied, she sat, and peered at the sight the highland overlooked and down at the nearly empty street under the abyss they were apparently on. Does this town have no structure?
"Who the hell designed this place anyway?" she asked, still staring down at the silent neighborhood bellow. "It's such a mess…"
Temari's guide-of-sorts murmured something, and she looked back at him, failing to catch what he's just said. "What?"
He didn't bother to look at her. "Tell me what you see."
She grunted. "Why don't you move your lazy head a bit, maybe then you'll see for yourself."
"Please - just tell me what you see." he solicited, still facing away from her. "What do you see? Describe it."
Although she remained annoyed, Temari found no harm in plainly talking about what she was seeing, especially after his near melancholic tone.
Sighing, she surveyed the neighborhood, and started transferring what she saw into words. "There… there are tall lampposts alongside the road." she said lamely.
"Have they rusted?" he asked.
"Yeah, a bit; if I look hard enough, I can recognize the old paint; it's peeling." consent ensued as she searched for another thing to describe, the situation becoming increasingly silly for her. "There are houses, and they're pretty much stacked above and next to each other, kinda chaotically." Temari paused. "It's… it's like the houses had been curved inside this sculpted mountain. They almost seem like caves…"
"Do you think it's beautiful?"
"What?"
He repeated. "That scene, the houses; do you think it's beautiful?"
Temari shrugged. "I can't deny they don't have an artistic… feel, about them." she paused, considering the scene more, and heaving a sigh despite herself. This newfound, unbidden sensation filled her. "It is beautiful though…"
"Continue."
She stretched her neck closer over the abyss, feeling the blood rush slowly to her head. "It's completely dark accept for the few spots the lampposts are illuminating… not all houses are lit either; I can only see light coming from few windows, and there's also no one in the street. It's almost as if everyone deserted the place."
He didn't round off or conclude her words with a question, he just benched there, rigid like a badly carved sculpture, not looking at her.
"The past's boat, I will sink it, sink it, sink it…" he chanted quietly.
In a moment of pleasant surprise, a wide smile found its way to Temari's face, and she forgot their little game. "You know this song?"
"We were the same salt, and then we drifted, drifted, drifted…" he continued, his hushed voice giving the song a new flavor. "Mind your own, I'll mind my own; the past's boat, I'll sink it…"
He gazed up at her, the long collar of his jacket unzipped and his face was a small bit of light in the bleakness around them. "I do know the song." he said.
Temari grinned at him, glad she's finally able to see his face, albeit with bug glasses for eyes. "Shouldn't we continue walking?"
The tall guy nodded silently, standing up and dusting off his clothes. Making to zip his collar, Temari stopped him. "Don't!"
She feared it came out a little desperate, as he just stared at her, his fingers frozen around the big slider. Temari thus felt the need to ignore the unwitting skip her heart just performed and add a reason to her request. "Don't hide your face behind all the bad fashion; you aren't as unshapely as I thought you'd be."
After a moment that lasted infinitely, he let go of the slider and left his face visible. "Is that better?"
Temari nodded heartily and skipped down the stones. "I'm Temari, by the way. Sabaku Temari." she held out her hand.
He extended his hand as well, but it took him more than few restless seconds to take hers and shake it, all the while a faint smile graced his face. "Shino Aburame."
She grinned. "Nice to meet you, Shino Aburame."
The two then rounded the hill and descended down the narrow, ancient stairs she'd previously noticed and which led to the old neighborhood bellow. At one side there was a wall, overgrown with ivy, and on the other side, there was nothing, but heights did not terrify her.
She drove the tips of her fingers along the granular wall, her hands catching in the wild vines that strayed all over it and her fingers pumping over the prickles.
The two companions hung around the ward, Temari's tongue slipping long enough to describe every corner and spot she saw or noticed, interrupted only by trivial questions. In a little while, Shino's tongue slipped as well, and they talked, made jokes and sang more.
It worried her for a moment that this supposed stranger felt like a stranger no more, but she pushed it to the back of her mind, along with that face on the beer can, the weather's frigidity and the awkwardness.
"And then some punk stole my bike!" she went on with her story about the agony of losing her precious motorcycle. "I reported to the police department and they wanted me to confirm that the bike was mine! Can you believe this shit? I gave them my number if they ever found it. I swear when I get my hands on that bas-"
Temari's balance wavered and she staggered a little as she laid her eyes on the big one story house that filled her vision. "Fucking god…"
Shino stood next to her, unflinching without his jacket in the face of the dawn's chilliness. "So we arrived."
She nodded dumbly, the jacket's hoodie moving along with her head; eyes fixated on the creepy-looking house and all the trees around it, Temari gaped. "So this is the Uzumaki residence…"
The house and its surroundings basked in the pale rays of the day's first hours of light and she made it to take off the jacket, shrugging it off her shoulders and handing it back to her companion who took it wordlessly.
Taking a deep breath, Temari turned to him with a smile. "Thanks."
"I should be the one thanking you. You were nice most of the way, Temari."
The way he said her name, the finality he uttered it with, an incentive that propelled her to step forward, entering his personal space to plant a kiss on the side of his mouth.
Shino's face remained expressionless, but it didn't frustrate her as his surprise manifested in a large hand that rose to his mouth, finger tips resting where her lips lingered for less than two seconds.
"Goodbye, Shino." she went past him, heading to the house's wooden door. "Oh yeah, I forgot." Temari turned around, grinning. "How come you are so well familiar with this place?"
The tall guy, still in the same shell-shocked posture she left him in, answered. "I know Whirlpool like I know the curves of my soul."
Temari scoffed, propping her hand to knock on the door.
If only he wasn't such a lair; and a poetic one at that.
A whole jar of cookies to Zakudeath for being the only one to guess and guess right who that person was. Here *hands cookie jar*.
I'm convinced at my success at keeping Shino in character while still fiddling with it. He's so much fun to work with. Tell me what you thought anyway.
I admit writing this chapter was much harder than I initially thought it would be, mainly because I've never worked with Temari before.
The song Shino sings is an Arabic song by Souad Massi, a Moroccan singer and song writer. The song and singer are both fantastic, listen if you're interested in a different kind of music.
Since I'll be returning to my studies in less than a week, I'm not sure when the next chapter will be out. Hopefully I'll be able to organize myself -and my life- more now that summer is over. However, summer in this story has just begun, so look forward to this. Till next one~