I know. I said Saturday evening, and I tried, I really did! But by the time I finished typing the chapter, it was 4 in the morning and I hadn't even got the editing done yet. So, now it is Monday morning where I am but here it is!
"There is nothing in man or nature that does not ask questions."
~Curtis Bill Pepper~
After the incident in his room, Yura tried to avoid being alone or even faintly tired around Kyouya as much as possible. This in actuality wasn't much, seeing as Kyouya had determined to spend more time with her since then, so her little resolve came to naught. She dreaded the next day after that night, but since it was Sunday, Kyouya didn't appear, much to her relief (his sister was not around to wake him this time). She hoped that things would simply go back to the way they were two weeks ago.
'After all it's a new week and nearing the holiday season.' She reasoned with herself, 'Maybe he'll just be busy until New years and by then I'll be out of here.'
All such hopes and aspirations died when Kyouya knocked and opened the door Monday afternoon. The whole time he stayed, she was high strung, waiting for him at any time to ask her or make some hint to it. But he didn't. He went about talking and typing as if nothing had happened. And as days turned to weeks, Yura grew less and less anxious until she thought that perhaps he had forgotten or decided not to mention it. A bit grateful for his tact or whatever it was keeping him silent; Yura grew to be more comfortable around him, though whenever she felt sleepy she immediately excused herself. Comfortable or not, she could not control what her brain decided to show her while she slept.
"Hey senpai."
"Hmm?"
"…What's your favorite color?"
"Why the sudden interest in my preferences?" he asked, highly amused.
She shrugged, hanging over the arm of the couch.
"Curiosity."
"This will turn into a one-sided twenty questions you know?"
"You can ask me questions…I'll reply."
"Is that so?" he asked dubiously, noting her particular choice of word. "Then what is your favorite color?"
"It's…kind of a tie between purple, black, and red, with red losing heavily at this point."
"So which color is winning now?"
"…Purple."
He chuckled.
"What's your favorite song? Oh, and you still haven't answered my other question."
"Blue and the Double Concerto in D minor by Johann Sebastian Bach."
"Is that for two violins or something?"
"Yes."
She whistled a tune, ending it to ask if it was correct.
"That is the one. And you?"
"Me? Well, non-classical would be Lolitawork Libretto by Kanon Wakeshima; classical would be Má Vlast."
"My Fatherland by Bedřich Smetana?"
"Mm-hm."
He grew quiet, resuming his writing, but only half focused now.
"Do you have a non-classical favorite?"
"..Okuru Kotoba."
Her face was pure confusion and ignorance.
He opened his laptop and soon music began to pour from it. She listened with her eyes closed, head resting on her arms.
"That was…nice."
He nodded, though in all honesty he was half expecting her to laugh. He decided to see just how much he could get out of her.
"Is your eye color really a genetic mutation?"
The peculiar smile she had given at the pension settled on her lips.
"I like to think of it that way…but it's not."
He was all attention now.
"I, well we, got the color from our father."
"Your father is not Japanese then?"
"Not fully, he's a half; me and Yuki are quarters."
"Of what ethnicity?"
The smile widened.
"That I can't tell you."
He narrowed his eyes at her, annoyed at her secrecy.
"But I'll give you a hint: wax."
"…wax?" Kyouya repeated, somewhere between thinking he had misheard and if hadn't, that Yura was insane.
"Yes, wax."
"What kind of wax? Wax sculptures in Hong Kong? The wax decorated Easter eggs of Ukraine or the Czech Republic?"
She put a finger to her lips and leaned back.
"Tch."
She chuckled quietly.
"So, I guess now I can't ask you how many siblings you have, huh?"
He answered, though reluctantly. Despite her obscure answers to some questions, he actually found himself unable to stay quiet for very long, as irritated as he was. He paused now, trying to think of a question. Yura's plethora of questions flew off of her tongue like she had a list she was reading from when he wasn't looking. He shrugged after a time.
"What is your favorite movie?"
"I would have to say…The Secret of NIMH."
"The Secret of the National Institute of Mental Health?"
"Yup, I love the animation."
Kyouya had been thinking it was some odd conspiracy documentary she had seen in the States. He slouched a bit and stared at her with boredom.
"Another kid's movie?"
"Hey, don't knock it till you watch it."
Kyouya shook his head.
"I think I will risk knocking it with that one."
"Aw, come on, you can least attempt to watch it."
"…You have it with you."
She smiled before taking out a DVD case from behind her.
'When did she even bring that in?'
"Fine, Yura-chan, fine." He took it from her and placed the disc in the DVD player, fully prepared to be bored out of his mind as he glanced at cover displaying four anthropomorphic mice and a crow, before focusing on his flat screen TV.
It wasn't bad. Though it was a bit…dark for a kid's movie in his opinion.
"Welcome to 1982." Yura responded, smiling as he gave her an "I am questioning your sanity" look.
"I hope you do not have anything else hidden behind you."
"Nope, that's all. I'm going to bed when this is done anyway."
When Kyouya arrived home from school one afternoon, he found Yura's room empty and Tachibana nowhere to be found.
"Hotta, where is she?"
"Yura-sama? She's in the backyard with Tachibana."
He took his jacket and scarf back from the guard.
'It's so beautiful…' Yura stuck out her tongue to try and catch a flurry. When none landed there, she opened her mouth wide and three fell before she closed it back, smiling and satisfied. She had deliberated once or twice about what it was with her and this affinity for various forms of precipitation. Maybe she and Yuki had been born on a wet day. She stretched out her hand to let the snow settle on it.
"So this is where you were."
Yura strained her neck to see Kyouya behind her in a long black trench coat.
"Ah, welcome home senpai."
Kyouya eyes widened a fraction before walking closer toward her. The snow was falling at a steady pace but so far it only stuck to the grass and cars and considering it was early in December, it was an understatement to say Yura was disappointed. She secretly hoped it would continue and cover everywhere.
'I wish there was enough for a snowball.' She liked to make one and place it in her freezer. It was a bit silly and it shrunk as the months went on, but Yura went about the project each time there was substantial snow on the ground. She even tried making a mini snowman once as a companion to along with the sphere.
"Are you cold?" Kyouya asked, though he was checking to see if she was dressed properly.
"Nope. Tachibana-san bundled me up real warm and snug." she replied in a sweet cordial tone, nuzzling more into her coat, her jade green eyes (she began wearing her contacts again) turned once again to the cloudy sky. She held out both hands now, getting a wacky idea that if she collected enough, she could mold a small snowball at least.
"Yura-chan, you should head inside now, you have homework to do."
Her brow crinkled and she gave a childish pout.
"Alriiiight.." she rolled in ahead of Kyouya and Tachibana.
"How long has she been out here?"
"About two hours, Kyouya-sama." Tachibana replied diligently, looking at his watch. "She asked if she could go out to see the snow fall for awhile. Being outside seems to have done her some good." Tachibana noted, recalling Yura's good mood and bright cheeks.
"I see." He said nothing more as he picked up in his pace; Yura was cleaning the wheels with her gloves. He took them from her.
"Where are your crutches?"
"Uh…Oh! Over there." she point a little ways from the door.
He got them and handed them to her. She got up and balancing on one crutch at a time, shrugged out of her coat and unwrapped the large wool scarf from her neck. She tossed them to Kyouya, who handed them to Tachibana, along with his own coat, scarf and the soiled gloves. They went to his room to study.
Well, Kyouya studied while Yura once again began to scrutinize his bookshelf for any decent contenders.
"Are you not tired of reading?"
Yura made a gasp as if horrified before chuckling. "I can't do much else. I left my laptop at home and my sketchbook is down in the guest room."
Kyouya looked around and found a paper pad, which he gave to her along with a black stick.
"What's this?" she asked, taking the paper pad and what she thought was black chalk, staring in puzzlement at the residue it left on her fingertips.
"It's compressed charcoal."
"Oh…" she went to the opposite side of the table and plopped down on the floor (she didn't want to risk staining his white couch) and feeling it would be nosy, flipped through the pad quickly until she found a blank page. Though by what she had glanced at, Kyouya was amazing with the small piece of charcoal. Yura pondered where he found time to draw when all he seemed to do was type and calculate figures. She made a few experimental strokes to adjust and then drew a sphere attempting to shade, something she tended to avoid since she wasn't sure how it all went. Tired of the multiple circles, she decided to try sketching out his laptop; she doubted she could get any good detail of his face with the broad tip.
"What do you use to erase?"
"French bread. It leaves the paper clean."
"Bread? That's such a waste! Don't you have anything else?"
"A kneadable eraser." He responded as he got up and placed the putty-like substance in her hand.
"Cuts through glass like it was putty…" she mumbled to herself before laughing a bit.
Kyouya watched her for some time as she drew, thinking back to the peaceful expression on her face while she was outside.
He wondered if she still had nightmares.
"Yura-chan."
"Yes senpai." she said with absent cheer, making a rough outline of his window.
"What do you say to going out this weekend?"
She froze before her head shot up with an animation Kyouya felt highly unnecessary. He wasn't aware she was barely keeping in excitement as she asked where.
"The mall."
Her eyes shone. Kyouya was torn between laughing and being disturbed.
"Can we go to a bookstore?" she finally voiced the secret hope, the source of her excitation.
He gave a long sigh while shaking his head.
"Is that all you think about?"
She opened her mouth to speak.
"Do not say anime."
She closed it.
'So this is where rich people shop…' Yura's mouth was agape and it took Kyouya having to threaten to tape her lips together to close it.
"Uh, Kyouya-senpai, I can use the controls in front of the arm rest to move you know?"
"Yes, I know that."
"So then why are you pushing me?"
"Humor me, Yura-chan."
She shrugged and sat back in the electric wheelchair; though she was anything from relaxed. Other than her trips to physical therapy twice a week, Yura hadn't ventured outside much. The lack of interaction had developed into a bit of an anxiety overtime, which she felt was ridiculous in itself. Still, it was how she felt, so she tried not to think too much about it as Kyouya glided pass by store after extravagantly-decorated store.
"So, where to first?"
"Here." Kyouya pushed her into a clothing store, where only then he allowed her move around with the controls.
"Buying yourself an early Christmas present?"
"If you want to put it that way." Kyouya responded somewhat absently, looking through shirts.
Yura pulled out a sleeve and checked the price tag. Her other hand reached up a lightly to grasp her throat. "Sweet mother of Jefferson Davis…" she murmured in a shaky voice.
"I highly doubt that would fit you." Kyouya teased, seeing her face.
"I wouldn't buy this shirt even if it had been spun from gold and had a genie come out of it every time I rubbed the breast pocket."
He laughed lightly, taking four shirts to the changing room.
"Show us the shirts. Show us the shirts."
"Yura-chan, I can have Tachibana take you out of the store."
"Alright, alright, behaving."
Kyouya came out with four shirts in arm, heading for the register.
"So you're really not going to show us?"
"You actually wanted to see?"
She shrugged. "That's what Yuki usually does."
Kyouya nodded, gesturing to Yura follow him out.
"Can we-"
"Yes Yura-chan we can, relax."
'This girl…' He never seen her smile so wide and unreserved in all the time they knew each other. Ever. It could not be healthy for a girl her age to be so obsessed with books. Other customers giggled and talked among themselves as they watch the handsome cool guy tail behind his disabled little sister. Yura was so ecstatic and going threw her mental book list that she was deaf to what being said around her. The joy of having new material to read after rereading so much made her exuberant and that light shone in her face.
Kyouya let out a frustrated huff as she somehow managed to find the manga section.
"I will be over here." He told her pointing to the shelves of non-fiction works, to which she gave a half-nod. Kyouya walked away, wondering if she had even heard him.
She picked all the titles she wanted at a speed quicker than the other books and peeked over to see Kyouya going through a hardcover before bee lining for the register.
"Good afternoon." The cashier said without enthusiasm. Working in an affluent store where you can't afford anything unless you use a whole two weeks paycheck had grounded this young man into a ball of slightly bitter but resigned contempt. Yura blushed and put the basket on the counter. The anxiety had returned now the joy had subsided. The cashier gave her a total, no longer surprised by how much things cost in this place. He also wasn't the least bit fazed to see Yura pull out and hand him a debit card either.
"Thank you for your patronage," he glanced at the card, "Ta-"
"Yes! Thank you and have a nice day!" Yura spoke loudly over him and took the bags and card with haste, leaving the guy to think she was a weirdo or just crazy.
'He couldn't just hand the card back quietly could he…' she thought with frustration mixed in with embarrassment at how loud she had raised her voice.
She was outside the store before she realized and didn't have to wait long before Kyouya came out, another bag in his hand.
"Why are you waiting out here?"
"…I couldn't take the staring."
Kyouya scanned the mall to see there were plenty of people staring at her, mostly because of her clutching the bags to her chest for dear life, but he learned by now it was better not to question her further sometimes. They went through a few more stores, even passing by a child's clothing boutique where Yura stopped to stare at the red holiday dress put up for display in the large window. Kyouya looked back at the absent sound of a motor.
"I thought you disliked dresses." all he had ever seen her in so far were pants.
"I don't mind at all as long as I like it." She responded, thinking back to the muslin drenched French dress.
"You wear children's clothes?"
"What other size do you think I can wear?"
He shrugged; surprised that he didn't realize that earlier.
"Are you buying it?"
"No, probably wouldn't look right on me anyway…" then she added as an afterthought, "probably can't afford it either."
"You bought books here."
"I've been saving up money to buy books since January of this year."
"…I see." he said walking away, Yura following.
"You think we can stop somewhere before we head back?"
Kyouya was surprised to find Yura's house clean, with no hint of the musty odor usual for a house long left unattended. She didn't miss the questioning gaze.
"Parents have a house keeper. I told them I wasn't going to be here for awhile."
"And yet you have no idea what it is your parents do for a living?"
"Your guess is as good as mine."
He still refused to believe that answer.
He helped her up the stairs to her room, the duffle bag she insisted on bringing with them from his house over his arm. It wasn't until he had placed the bag down and watched as Yura dragged it to her bookshelf before diving in; that it occurred to him he had never been in her room before. It was dim, the only light coming from a small window which she opened, refusing to turn on the light switch. He noted her bed was placed against the wall and had only one end table, which fitted neatly between it and the frame to the door of her bathroom. She also had a black little dressing table vanity with no mirror, a small vintage Chinese wood jewelry box, the sole occupant on the top. He opened it, surprised to see it contained only white pills still in their plastic and foil packaging, a key shaped pocket watch and her three earrings.
"Brazen of you, eh? Looking through people's things."
He closed the box, not in the least surprised, ashamed or guilty. "You have gone through my room at least twice."
"Never gone through your jewelry though. If you're so bored, help get these thinner books on the top shelf will you?"
He did as she asked; glancing at her from time to time to see her move back to check to see if the size of each book was in order. When she was done, she went into her bathroom to grab more contacts. He went back to the pastime of standing in the middle of the room.
"You know, you can sit on the chair right? You won't catch fleas or get eaten or anything."
"Oh, then that is a relief." He said in dry sarcasm as he partially leaned against the bookshelf.
He heard the echo of her laugh from where he stood. After some minutes she came out.
"Ok, all se-AHH!"
Yura was paying more attention to the little toiletry bag than where she was placing her crutches, causing her to stick them right on the space between the tiled bathroom floor and the edge of the door post.
A perfect tripping area.
Kyouya dashed the moment he saw where her crutches stubbed and managed to grab her before she did a nose dive into the hard wood floor.
"Are you ok?"
"Mother of crud! That would not have been fun!" she exclaimed. "Yeah, I am, thanks." She smiled at him.
Kyouya stayed there bent on one knee staring at her face a little longer than he should have. Yura frowned a bit.
"Something wrong?"
There was a sustained pause before Kyouya blinked a few times, looking towards her door.
"No, nothing at all."
He set her upright again, fixing his clothes afterwards.
"Well as a token of thanks for your good deed, a present." She announced in a playful exaggeration of a princess presenting a reward to knight, going over to a draw in her vanity and pulling out a DVD case.
He took the case with caution, as if it would explode at any moment.
"The Boy with the Face Eating Tumor?"
"Yeah, it's documentary. Yuki recorded it for me a few years ago so I would stop staying up until two in the morning to watch it."
"You watch things of this nature?" Kyouya asked in utter disbelief, looking at her like he had never seen her before.
"Uh-huh, there was one on an Indian girl with 6 limbs I think that I was going to watch, but I missed it." She spoke and gave a small grunt as she attempted to reach down for her bag off the floor. Her droll pride, would not let her admit to anyone that she would be scared and paranoid after watching those programs, but to her the rarity of the conditions was worth the few weeks of fright.
Kyouya put two fingers on her forehead and raised her up from the half bent position, giving her a look of irritation at her adamancy for not asking for help at such instances as he grabbed the bag.
"You are worse than Tamaki." He commented quietly to himself as they got in the car.
"With what?!" she asked in joking alarm at being worse than Tamaki in something.
"Your interests."
"I'm not that interested in Jap-"
"I mean the vast amount of shows you watch." He cut her off, staring at the white case that only had the title on the front.
"We can watch it now if you want." She suggested, getting her laptop out.
"We are in a car."
"So? I've watch things on my phone in crowded trains before."
He was going to protest, but seeing she already turned the computer on, decided to remain silent. He suppressed a startled jump as the boy flashed across the screen.
'…whoa…'
"Can he see?"
"Only out of one eye I believe."
This he could get into. Though Yura didn't understand everything, Kyouya could clearly follow the doctor's explanations and procedures.
"Using the tumor to reconstruct his face…" he mused aloud, finger to his chin, as a 3-D depiction of the surgeon's plan played out.
"Since the tumor is benign and most of his facial bone structure is pushed back and too little developed, it seems like the best option."
Kyouya's hand slowly fell from his chin, giving her an odd stare.
"You can understand this, but have trouble with Biology?"
"That class and textbook puts me to sleep. This is WAY more interesting."
"So there are books even you cannot stand to read…"
Yura pushed him lightly on the arm.
He smiled but kept his eyes on the screen.
By-the-by, The Boy with the Face Eating Tumor is an actual medical documentary I saw when I was younger. Every Wednesday a television network called TLC would show 1 hour (or sometimes 2 hours) program of people from around the world with various rare conditions (the girl with multiple limbs is another one). I actually did stay up until 1 in the morning to watch the first one and then went to bed at three, slightly dazed yet content (I had missed it at the earlier time). OK, enough about my weird TV choices.
Chapter 12 I will post ASAP.
Love and Peace.
