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Chapter 7: Eve of the Ball II
He had seen them together, and his blood heated, pulse slowing before speeding back up again. He had the wildest urge to punch something, hard. No, he shouldn't do it, it was uncivilized, it was barbarous…
It'd be a hell of a lot more satisfying than just fantasizing his desire to sink a fist into Tsuchiura's face.
He remained still for another couple of minutes, breathing hard through his nose and counting to ten. As a fairly reasonable person, it was a technique he never had to employ…before Amou.
4…5…he can feel himself calming, bit by bit. He reached 8. He was calm, and quiet. It meant nothing to him. She can dance with whoever she wants, it was no concern of his. She can whisper and rub her body against all the men she wants-
No! His brain raged at him while his heart throbbed in agony. She was his, she was his, she was-
Dammit.
Shoko looked over at Yunoki, her smile hidden by the teacup. He was not the only one who seen Tsuchiura waltz with Amou. But then again, she mused, Azuma-kun's a man. Sometimes they miss things. Like the very annoying man who was following Ryou-kun around as soon as he got off stage.
She set her teacup with a clink against the matching china saucer, and bit her lip. "Hmmmm…" The sound jolted Yunoki out of his reverie. He looked over and saw that Shoko was wearing an expression of deep concern. "Shoko-san? Is anything the matter?"
"Oh! Azuma-kun. Can you tell?" she laughed. "It's nothing, really. I was just wondering where Nami-chan was. She said she was covering for a gossip columnist who got sick and couldn't come."
"Amou?" Dammit. Yunoki feigned unconcern. "I don't know. Last time I saw her, she was in that corner." There was no way in hell he'd ever admit that he watched his one time lover get intimate with his friend and fellow musician.
"Really? She was planning on throwing a baby shower for me, and we were going to finalize our plans together since she's going to be busy until then, but today's the only day left so I wanted to talk to her-Oh! She's heading out of the door!" Shoko made to stand up, then plopped back down with a sigh, eyes closed. "Oh…oh…"
"Shoko-san?" She heard a trace of panic in his voice, and almost smiled. Poor Azuma-kun. "Shoko-san, are you all right? Do you want me to call Kazuki?"
"No, no. I don't want to worry him." She said, and laughed it off. "I'm just so tired these days. With the baby coming so soon and all…"
She could literally see him pale behind her closed lids.
"Oh! Azuma-kun." She opened her eyes wide, then lowered them again. "No, I can't ask…" Their eyes swept over to where Tsuchiura was away, babying his foot, to where Len and Kahoko was, a couple tables further down, to Shimizu chatting with a matron. Hihara was on the platform, playing a jazz ensemble. "I…please. Azuma-kun. Can you just tell Nami-chan that I want to meet her next week? Next Wednesday. I'm afraid she might leave before I can tell her…It's no problem, right?"
Yunoki, caught between honoring a request and unstable emotions, considered raising a hand to snap for a servant, but his eyes caught Shoko's. It lowered. "Fine. I'll tell her myself then. Please excuse me, Shoko-san, this will take just a few minutes…"
He bowed to her, smile in place, before threading his way through the crowd, barely stopping to talk to anyone who tried to engage him in conversation. Shoko made sure he was out the door before sitting up, chuckling. Men. God knows they try, but…she looked over to where Len had Kahoko in his arms, waltzing. Kahoko's eyes were shining madly as Len twirled her around, hands clasped with one of his own, both of them smiling at each other. She sighed, her heart melting. Len was definitely good father material.
A light drizzle covered the trees and flowers of the large estate the ball was held at as lights flashed against the dew covered shrubbery. The cameraman cursed. "What the hell, man? When is freaking Kobayashi at the weather station ever gonna get it right?" He cursed again, shielding his precious equipment the best he can with his coat.
The assistant, well used to the faulty predictions of their weatherman, only pulled out an umbrella. "That guy operates on trial and error." He mumbled. "Problem is, weather likes to do funny things. Like change on a day to day basis. He'd have better luck telling us there's rain every day."
The front doors opened as Amou came out. She glanced up at the darkened sky, groaning. "What the hell, Kobayashi?" She pouted, already feeling her hair go limp.
The two men just gave each other dark looks.
The cameraman shivered. "Dude, this rain's gonna wreck this baby." He gestured at the equipment hidden under his coat. "Want me to drive the van back? I'll drop this guy off on the way."
"Appreciate it." The assistant muttered drily. Amou groaned again.
"Yeah, sure." She said distractedly, wincing. "I'll call a cab or something. Drop off the stills in my box, would you? I'll look through them tomorrow morning."
"Will do, Reporter-sama." They both saluted her, keeping straight faces. They ran off to where the dusty little van was parked, all the way at the back of the lot, as far away as possible from the shiny limos and gleaming cars that cost the average salary man a year of his pay. Before taxes.
Alone, Amou walked down from the grand doors down the white stone steps, hoping that the skinny ice picks glued to the bottom of her shoes won't snap off and toss her down the steps. She'd rather find some nicer (and less humiliating) way to go than from a broken neck, thank you very much.
But compared to the stifling heat inside the ball, the mist was cool and refreshing. Oh, what the hell. She drew her wrap away, and unpinned her mass of hair, sighing as she felt water spray gently against her flushed cheeks and shoulders.
That was how he found her.
Silk wet from the rain molded a lush body like a second skin as her head was thrown back, eyes closed. A waterfall of hair waved down her back and over her bare shoulders. He wasn't close enough to be able to see the curve of her cheek flowing into a lovely, creamy neck , but his imagination was virile enough for him to imagine his hands sliding possessively over her body…or his mouth…
He heard her give a little moan. "Oh, this feels so good…" His fists clenched as his libido went into overdrive.
This is ridiculous, he thought to himself. Standing here like some moonstruck teenager. Just go down there, relay Shoko-san's message, and be done with it.
Then just take her, rip off that silly excuse for a dress, drag her to the ground and…
"Damn." he whispered. He stayed where he was for a few moments behind a grand pillar at the top of the stairs, watching her. Watched as she glanced around, and shrugged.
Amou didn't see anyone outside, and in any case, the ball was far from over. It was still 8, and, she giggled, the ball doesn't end till midnight. But still, her feet was killing her, and since she doubted that there would be a fairy godmother around to conjure her up some gel soles… She bent, took off the flashy heels, and sunk her feet in the manicured grass, moaning once more. "Oh…god."
Oh god indeed. A few more seconds of this was liable to kill him. He struggled not to remember the way those blue eyes had gazed at him, or how that throaty voice had caressed his name before letting it slip past those lips as he walked down the steps, his back ramrod straight. The soft soles of his hand tooled leather shoes whispered over the wet grass as he approached her. Her eyes were still closed, mouth parted slightly.
"Amou-san."
"Oh!" Her eyes flew open, clearing as they centered on him. "Azu…-Yunoki-san. What a surprise."
He merely raised a brow at her, slipping on his usual enigmatic smile. "Yes. You seem to be enjoying the ball."
"Oh yeah." She said, drily. "It's been a bucket of champagne." He only stared at her, and she started to fidget. Damn, after all this time, the man could still make her nervous with a look. "Hori couldn't make it today," she said, falling back on work. Work was a safe subject. "So I'm covering for her."
"Ah, that would explain it." he said. "I must admit, I didn't expect you to come today. Of course, if you had wanted an invitation, I would have seen fit to supply you with one." He moved fast, pinning a surprised Amou in his arms, her own trapped against her side. She stood still for a blank moment, before she started to struggle. "Yunoki-san-!"
"After all," he said softly. "A true gentleman stays polite and friendly with their employees. Even if one of them happens to be a former lover."
She stiffened. "Don't!"
"Don't what?" he asked politely. "Don't do this?" His arm banded around her around her waist, crushing her to him. "Or this?" The other hand buried itself into her hair, gripping them and yanking her head back until her face was directly below his. "Or…this?" He whispered, as his lips descended. She tried to turn her head away, but his hand had a tight hold on her hair still. His lips brushed hers once, and that was all the warning she had, before he plunged in, his mouth harsh against her own. She cried out, and he didn't know if it was from pain or from arousal. Didn't care.
She couldn't hold out against his onslaught. Tears formed at the corners of her eyes as her mouth was released, long enough for her to mouth his name pleadingly before he took her under again, savagely.
"So cruel." she murmured when he released her for the second time. "So cruel. Azuma…please. Stop."
He looked at her, before pushing her away from him, fists clenched helplessly. But his voice was as calm as ever. "A man tends to forget." he said whimsically, while Amou stared at him. "But I find that I don't like you dallying with Ryou-kun. A man has to look out for the interests of his friends, and I find it prudent to remind you how…distasteful I find it sharing former lovers with immediate acquaintances."
"I…I don't get it." Amou shook her head, and hanks of wavy hair covered her face, making her look like a forlorn mermaid. He watched dispassionately as color flooded her face. "Oh! Oh, you despicable-!" She swung her hand out. He caught it in his own, and twisted, ignoring her cry of pain. "Madam. Do not provoke me." He dropped her hand. "Anyways, I am also here to tell you, at the request of Shoko-san, that she is willing to meet you at your convenience next week, for the baby shower. That is all."
He looked at her, and wanted. After all these years…
"I have kept you out." He looked up, as if just noticing that it was raining. "As I do not want one of my most…diligent and hard working employees sick, I shall ask my driver to send you home first."
She was not going to cry at his callous treatment of her. She wasted all the tears she had for him in this lifetime, and there was no way he would wring out any more. "No need, Yunoki-san," she said flatly. "I would hate to inconvenience you by depriving you of your driver." Her face was a hard, emotionless mask, and Yunoki felt a pang somewhere in his heart for having caused it. "I shall take a cab."
"Don't be stupid." he said. "Just take the car." His hand closed over her wrist in a firm, yet impersonal grip. "I don't imagine you've had much cause in your life to ride in a limousine, so why don't you take advantage of it? Just think of it as a boss treating his worker. Or…" his voice softened. "Think of it as a favor from a former lover."
"I'd rather think of you selling little ice cream cones in hell." she spat.
"That's the spirit." he said condescendingly. Amou Nami was never one who could keep her emotions on a leash for long, and they both knew it. He flicked open his cell phone, keeping his grip on Amou. It was just to keep her from running away, he assured himself. Not out of any misplaced desire to hold any contact with her as long as possible. "Tenma. The car, if you please."
"Yes, Yunoki-san."
He dragged her with him back to the circle shaped driveway at the foot of the stairs. A particularly rough patch of grass had her tripping over a heel, and onto Yunoki's back. "Oh! Sorry…"
He just turned and sighed. "Nami." His grip on her wrist loosened as his hands curved around her shoulders to steady her. "Why do you wear those ridiculous shoes when we both know you're about as graceful as an ostrich?"
She smiled. It was the exact same question he had asked her, a long long time ago. With that same exasperated look too. "Goes with the package, boss man." she replied easily. "A package in which you pay for."
"Good lord. I never knew female reporters in my employ are thus burdened." He smiled back. "Shall I reimburse you with hazard pay?"
"It would be very much appreciated." she said. They stood together in easy camaderie, something both had missed badly during their cold war. What had happened to their friendship? They eyed each other, his hands still on her shoulders, both wanting to ask the same question. Amou opened her mouth, but before her mind could catch up, a car horn sounded as a long, pristine white limo stretched past them on the driveway. The driver opened the passenger door. "Yunoki-san."
"Tenma." His hands squeezed before they let go, and he shoved her forward. "You'll be driving her first." He gave Amou a nudge into the back seat. "Dry off when you get home." he ordered. "I really don't want to find my best reporter sick with pneumonia tomorrow. And for god's sakes," he added, "stop wearing heels to work."
He slammed the door closed on her retort, and watched as it drove away.
Inside, he found Shoko sitting next to her husband, hands intertwined. "Shoko-san." he said, shaking his head reproachfully. "You would ditch me for your husband?"
Hihara, sweaty but exhilarated, beamed at him. "Sorry Azuma." he said, grinning. "I'm here to take my lovely wife back." Azuma saw his thumb caress Shoko's knuckles lazily, and felt another pang.
"Well" he said, "I know when I'm not wanted. But don't forget, you owe me another extemporary performance in an hour."
"Since when have I been anything but?" was the counter as Azuma walked away, trying to control his reaction to Hihara's display of affection. "How pathetic." he murmured to himself. "How very, truly pathetic."
As the night ended, the shiny waxed cars and limos glided down the driveway one by one as their glittering recipients stepped away from the cold drizzle and into heated interiors. Yunoki stood just inside the doors, shaking hands and pecking cheeks as he wished his guests a good night.
Inside, the orchestra and band packed up as wires were rolled up and tables cleared in a frenzy. The flowers, kept fresh and pretty, were placed in individual glass vases, with the usual note to send them to the nearest hospital from the host himself.
Len, already meticulously packed, held up a flushed and hiccupping Kahoko. "Who," he said furiously, "Was the complete idiot who gave her alcohol?" His stare aimed straight across to Tsuchiura, who colored.
"What?" he colored. "Why do you look at me first? I mean, maybe she just got a little overexcited."
"Because the only one stupid and indulgent enough to do this would be you." was the irritated response. Kaho giggled and patted Len on the head, misjudging her distance and smacking him full in on the left eye. They all winced in sympathy. "Len-niiiiiiiii… stwop picking on Riiiyouu-…uu…-kun…he had bwubbles inna cup…pwetty…"
Hihara looked as if his gut might give out at any moment, eyes watering from the effort to reign in the laughter. "Oh-oh my-god, Ryou-kun," he said weakly, "I can't believe you-!"
"It was pretty amusing to see Kahoko-chan run around and cluck like a chicken." Yunoki said, his tongue pressed firmly against his cheek. The eye Len had trained on Tsuchiura suddenly grew hair. "You…!"
"I swear I didn't know about it!" he squeaked. "I just left it there for a minute, and by the time I turned around, Kaho-chan had already emptied the glass!"
"That woman that was flirting with Tsuchiura-sempai really was pretty." Shimizu murmured. "I wouldn't be surprised at sempai taking his eyes off of Kahoko-chan for a minute."
"Keiichi, dude," Tsuchiura muttered. "Way to help me out here."
He only shrugged. "Just facts, sempai. Just facts."
Kahoko, dressed neatly in a demure corduroy skirt and a linen blouse, stood behind the oak door that lead to the study room, and tipped her head carefully to the side. The edge of the door stopped to reveal her Len-niichan, sitting in an enormous leather-backed chair, countless sheaves of paper covering the wide mahogany desk in front of him. The desk light was on, although the sun was still high in the sky, light trailing through the tall glass windows at his back.
She watched him as he sighed, eyes trained on official seals and elaborate headers behind a pair of narrow reading glasses. Long lashes fluttered against the lenses as he blinked occasionally, but the blue fountain pen never cease to stroke lines against the official looking documents in front of him.
He was also dressed neatly in dark wool pants and a white shirt, his hair carelessly styled. She sighed. Len-niichan was so handsome…
He looked up, and she dodged back behind the door. After several moments, she heard the pen scratch, and bent back to spy on him.
He looked up again. She dodged. But there was no mistaking the giggle. Len smiled, but he made his voice stern. "Kahoko."
There was another giggle behind the door, but she remained silent.
"Kahoko." He repeated. "I know you're there."
"You caught me, niichan!" she said cheerfully, her waist length hair swinging out as her head dipped to the side, looking at him past the edge of the door. She swung back. "Let's play again!"
"Why don't you come here?" he countered. Already, they have established several habits and games through living together for a couple months, and this was inevitably one of them.
"Iiyaaa~!" Was the reply. "The mad dragon will eat Kaho up!"
"Oh?" He got up quietly, and walked to the door, the rose and cream carpet muffling his footsteps. "The mad dragon can also do this too." He reached out, and grabbed her suddenly. She let out an ear splitting shriek, and collapsed in a fit of giggles as Len lifted her into the room, and began to tickle her. "Haha, hahaa! Len-niichan, stoooop!" They fell on the floor, laughing.
"Nuh uh." He banded an arm around her small waist to prevent her from squirming out. "Mad dragons requires a magic word. But in the meantime…nom nom nom nom." He rubbed his hair against her sensitive cheek and neck, making her burst out in another explosion of giggles.
"Wow. Tsukimori Len, laughing? I know people that would pay to see this."
Flushed faces glanced up at the door. Amou Nami leaned against the wooden frame, wrapped in a cashmere sweater of deep blue to set off her eyes. Wool slacks dropped in a straight line from her tiny waist as killer blue heels sanded down to a needle point at the heels. "Nami-chan!" Kaho cried. "Ohayo!"
Len's face flamed as he too stood up. "Amou." he said stiffly, brushing lint from his clothes.
"Well, at least one of you is happy to see me. Oh, don't let me interrupt," she added mischievously. "Just let me call up my cameraman, huh? I can make a lot of money from this…"
"You might have knocked." Len said, irritated.
"What, and miss out on this scene?" She bent to give Kahoko a hug. "So cute!" she crooned. "Her pictures definitely did not do her justice."
"What pictures?"
"What pictures?" Amou repeated slyly. "Why, don't you read the American tabloids?" She unearthed a roll of glossy magazines from an overlarge handbag, and tossed it down on the mahogany desk. "There are some Japanese ones there too, but I managed to block most of them from publication. Tugged on so many lines, it nearly got into a tangle."
Len ignored her as he stared at a picture of Kahoko and himself in the airport, her head cradled protectively against his neck. "Jesus Christ."
"Yup."
He picked one up, and began to leaf through it. "Well." he said, brow furrowed. "At least there's no mention of child sex trafficking…"
Amou just smirked, and picked up another rag with the tips of her manicured fingers. "Don't be so sure, darling." She laid it flat on the desk, and flipped it open, until a bright, glossy picture laid facing the ceiling, the two of them hand in hand, Kahoko dressed in one of her frillier outfits. The ruffles and lace made a jarring difference next the simplicity of Len's dark sweater and wool slacks. He simply groaned.
"Of course," Amou said, "There's not so much of this stuff in Japan. News here die down easily."
She was looking at him, the smirk gone. "You want me to stay here." Len said slowly.
She watched him crinkle up the tabloid into a ball. "It's better to stay in Japan for now, Len. You know as well as I do that this kind of stuff stays for a long time. How do you think this will affect Kahoko?"
"She won't be affected." he said evenly. "I won't let her be. And I won't run away a second time."
"She's Japanese!" Amou argued back. "She should stay here. With everybody. We can't help you the next time you're halfway around the world."
"So that's it." He looked down on Kahoko, who watched them with anxious eyes. "You want to keep her."
"And you."
He shook his head. "You want her." Kahoko came to him, and he stroked a soft cheek with a finger.
"Len." Amou reached out a hand, wanting him to understand. "You're important to us too. But you're still young, and we didn't think that it was good idea for you to take on such a big responsibility. It's not only you at stake, her future also depends on this. "
"It's also easier to keep an eye on me if I stay here, right?" Amou resisted a wince as Len gave her a hot glare from beneath his eyebrows. "The answer is no, Amou."
"How are you going to feel when she's going to get in your way- "
"No." He picked up Kahoko, who was still oddly mute. "Come on, chibi. We'll be in the parlor." he added, before striding out of the room.
Pushing the door to the room open, Len settled her in a chair before disappearing into the small kitchen attached to the other side. He came back with a tray, and settled it onto the table. She still hasn't moved.
He couldn't see Kaho's face, but she was too silent. Normally, the kid never shuts up. "Kahoko?" He bent down, the scene with Amou wearing his patience away. Only to see that her face was red, small milky teeth biting furiously on her lower lip. "Hey, what's this now?"
"Len-nii…" She sniffled, and Len felt a small moment of horror. What did he do wrong? "Stop that. There's no need to cry."
"Len-nii…Are you mad at me?"
"What? Where did you get an idea like that from?" He sat down, and pulled her onto his lap as big fat drops started to fall. "There's no way I would be mad at you."
"But Nami-chan said that Kaho was a 'big responsibility'!" she cried. "And that I'm going to 'get in your way'. Len-niichan, I don't want to be a bad thing."
"You're not a bad thing." Len said fiercely. "Forget what Amou said." He glared at the doorway, where Amou stood, her back straight. She paled, and backed away.
Kaho buried her face on his collar. "So, you want Kaho to stay with you, nii-chan? Kaho's not bad?"
"No. Kaho's not bad." His hand fisted at her back, before rapping her lightly on the head. "Of course I'm keeping you. Don't think about stupid stuff anymore. And don't think I didn't know you were wiping your snot on my shirt."
She giggled, her face blotchy but still bursting with childish charm. "Nuh uh. Oh, tea!" She nuzzled him again, before making a beeline for the sugar pot. He watched her as she climbed onto a chair, her skirt poofing about her small bent legs as she spooned sugar cubes into a small china cup. Yes, he was keeping her. For sure.
Amou stayed a bit beyond the door frame, covered by the plank of wide oak. She could hear the clink of cup on saucer, Len's exasperated voice admonishing the large amount of sugar Kaho laced her tea with, her giggles. She tapped a toe against the carpeted floor, unsure of what to do, trying to block the familiar pain of looking at Kahoko's bright smile and wishing. Remembering silly daydreams of holding a similar little girl, or a bright little boy in her arms. Wanting, always wanting.
In her happy daydreams, the girl had long, straight raven locks, the boy her own riotous curls.
There was guilt when she heard the little girl's fondest wish to stay with her dearest onii-chan, and she had a hard moment trying to smother it. But wasn't having Len stay in Japan better for both him and those who love him?
You just want Kahoko to stay, a nasty little voice whispered in her ear. You want to dream. You want to pretend.
No I don't.
She ignored it, but not before a small shudder escaped her.
Yes you do…
Read and Review please, it might just get me through finals x_x
