Author's note: Sorry for taking such a long time to update! As usual, I hope that this chapter is digestable... Anyhow, the song that's featured in this chapter (during the dance scene) is from the soundtrack: Teriyaki Boyz - Cho Large. Have a listen to it - it's a good song. I am thinking of inserting songs into chapters...let me know what you think, okay guys:-)
Chapter 7
"Wanna dance?"
Yuri stared at him for some seconds, probably because she was surprised. She couldn't remember the last time a guy had asked her to dance. A good-looking guy, at that. But her last relationship had ended in anger and bitter resentment. Should she accept this little gesture, this little reminder?
"Yuri," he said again, this time, more tenderly. "I'm not gonna eat you up, okay?"
She laughed. What the heck. "Who says I'm afraid? Let's go."
The opening, high-charged beats ended, and a sultry voice whispered from the speakers: "You're so crazy, you're so crazy, you're so cra-cra-cra you're so crazy…"
Ming grinned. "I know this song." He took her hand and guided her to the dance floor. She followed without much resistance, and she couldn't resist a coy smile. She turned around and snuggled into his arms as he wrapped them around her waist from behind. And together, they swayed and danced to the hypnotic music, drowning out the troubles of the past, present, and future.
After a while, when he was sure that she was comfortable with him, his hands moved up and down the sides of her body, caressing the contours of her silhouette and sending thrills of pleasure shooting through her mind. She smiled and sighed in pure ecstasy.
Don't stop.
She nestled herself deeper into his warmth. Returning the favor, her hands reached up to bring his neck down so that his face was close to hers. His lips touched the nape of her neck ever so gently, and the combined sensation of fire and ice made her skin tingle. She turned around and they engaged in a battle to keep their lips apart, longing to meet and join, but held back in a spar of teasing. He stroked her neck and her face lovingly while she put her hands around his waist and brought him closer.
"You're so crazy, you're so crazy, you're so cra-cra-cra you're so crazy…"
So crazy indeed.
Their foreheads touched as they gazed deep and full into each other's eyes. And Yuri found herself wanting to open her heart to this man, to let him in into the deepest facet of her soul. Their breaths were ragged and heavy; it was taking them all their willpower to retain their firm grips on their self-control. In Ming's dazed eyes, she saw a burning flame of desire. She knew, she longed for him as well, but –
"It's getting late," she said abruptly. At first it was a mere excuse to break away from the enticing thoughts playing and dancing in each other's minds, but she took one look at her watch and realised that she had done it: she had broken the golden rule sat by Dad.
Her watch read: 1.15 A.M.
She slid the door open as silently as possible, shutting her eyes and dreading the tell-tale creak that usually came with old doors. Hearing none for the first few seconds, she applied more pressure and –
Screeeeeeeeech
"Shit," she muttered. But the damage had been done. She stepped into the house with an apprehensive foot and peeked inside. The lights were out and it was total darkness inside. She could hear the sound of a kettle boiling from the kitchen where the single bulb hung forlornly. But other than that…
She slipped into the house and shut the door with as much patience as possible, cringing when she heard the screech again, but hopefully Dad was asleep, and that the horrible creak was some sort of a sweet music to him. After all, how can you live in Tokyo for so long and not get used to the industrial music?
Yuri was just about to turn around and sneak to her room when a light came on in the living room.
"It's 1.30 a.m.," growled Dad from the armchair. She turned around. That's it. Caught by the slyer fox.
"The – uh, the project took longer than I expected," she said lamely.
He picked up a beer bottle from the small table next to him and took a swig from it before setting it down again. "You could have called."
"Then what?" she challenged.
"Then I could have let you sleepover at your friend's house." He tilted his head. "Or were you doing something else?"
Her face hardened. "No, Sir."
Now it was his turn to frown. "I told you, no 'Sirs' with me."
"That was ten years ago, Dad. You don't have any right to decide what I choose to say anymore."
"Oh yeah?" he stood. "Who made up that rule?" When she didn't reply, he continued in an angry voice, "I may not be married to your mom anymore but in the birth certificate I'm still your father. And as long as my name is in there, and as long as you're staying under my roof, it stands."
She had never felt more bitter towards him. "Then I'll go."
"What did you say?"
"If living here means following your – your stupid rules – "
"Yuri – use your head! No girl should be outside at one in the morning!"
"I can take care of myself! I don't need you to tell me what to do and what not to do!"
That earned an almighty slap.
She glared at him, putting a hand to her stinging cheek and fighting back the tears that threatened to flow. She won't show him that she was upset. She won't give him the pleasure of knowing how much it actually hurt her: physically and emotionally.
"Go and sleep. You wouldn't want to be late for school tomorrow," he grumbled and pointed at the door of her room.
She stormed into the closet, opening the door forcefully and slamming it just as hard. She crawled to her own mattress, snuggled in its warmth and finally let the tears flow.
Some hours later, just as her mind was hovering between sleep and consciousness, the closet door slid open and heavy footsteps thudded into the room. And as if that was not enough, that someone turned on the lights as well.
"Bloody hell," she muttered and shielded her eyes from the light. "It's not morning yet."
" 'Course it isn't," replied the familiar, annoying voice.
She opened her eyes and saw Sean taking off his white shirt, his back facing her. She shut her eyes at once. "That's gross! Can't you do it elsewhere? You're not the only one using this room you know."
"Gee, as if I hadn't realised that."
"Har har," she said sullenly and tried to go to sleep again but the light was unbearable. She never could sleep with the lights on.
"Hey, hey you," he shook her shoulder. "Hey look at me. I got a question for you."
"Not in your life," she retorted back.
"I'm dressed, okay?"
She opened her eyes and saw that he had put on a clean grey T-shirt. She blew a sigh of relief. "Okay, that's better." Her stare met his and still she couldn't believe that this was the gaijin D.K. Ming had told her about. This idiot didn't look as if he could haul a Fairlady to the finish line.
"What?" she asked tartly.
He sat down on his own mattress. "I saw you at Boshi today. You were racin' a Supra against a Skyline."
Yuri pursed her lips. "What made you think it was me?"
He narrowed his eyebrows. "I'd recognise you anywhere."
"Out of a hundred other Jap girls?"
"Out of the whole bunch only ten or so actually race. And they all flaunt their goodies." He nudged at her old, grey sweater and jeans."You kinda stood out you know."
She eyed him warily. "And you're talking as if I don't know that you're the D.K. there?"
Now it was his turn to squirm. "What are you goin' ta do about it? I'm old enough to do this. You're still in school. Ergo: underaged."
Fury was slowly building up in her. "You don't understand and you never will."
"Oh yeah? About what?"
She shook her head slowly. "I have to do this."
"No, you don't. You bein' out there is askin' for trouble."
"Look here, mister! I'm sick of people tellin' me what I should do and what I shouldn't do!" she rose her voice. "It's my life. And I do whatever I want."
He threw his hands up in the air, feeling equally angry. "You don't understand, do ya? If the Lieutenant finds out about you hittin' the streets, he'd blow up. And your life's over, you get it?"
"So you're volunteering for culprit, aren't you?" she said bitterly. "You just call yourself a D.K. But deep down beneath all your goody-ass shit, you're just as bad as the yakuza."
His face hardened. "I'm no yakuza."
"Oh yeah?" she laughed bitterly. "I know those types: arrogant, always thinking that they could scare people off by threatening them, talking as if everybody owes them a million dollars. Oh believe me, I know. There's no way in hell you could have paid for the garage of modified cars sitting in Shibuya right now. "
"I gotta earn a little bit of dough every now and then," he said between clenched teeth. "But I'm tellin' you, I ain't no yakuza."
She snorted. "Yeah, right."
"Why don't we call it a truce?" he said coldly.
She glared at him, but what was she to lose? She needed the opportunity to race, she needed the cash. Bad.
"Fine. But don't think I'm off your tail just yet."
"What do you mean?"
"I dunno; being D.K. sounds really nice."
He grinned cunningly. "Come and get it if you want. Don't cry if you fall down the stairs."
She smirked. "I'll make you eat your words, cowboy."
