STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY: Though I would like to say that I have amassed millions upon millions of dollars by creating and owning anything remotely Rurouni Kenshin related, I hereby declare that I don't even have a bank account…
Quick little message from author: A proud survivor of a fourth semester of journalism salutes you all! Merry Chrismukkah – meshing both holidays into one simply sounds more politically correct – everybody! Have an excellent New Year! I hope that all of you enjoy this chapter and that the year 2005 kicks off beautifully, though the Tsunami disaster in Asia will certainly overshadow the celebrations – rightfully so.
Soundtrack: Part 1: "Kiss me (acoustic version)" – Sixpence None the Richer. Part 2: "Combat Baby" – "Metric; "American Idiot" – Greenday. Part 3: "In my Place" – Coldplay. Part 4: "19-2000" – Gorillaz. Part 5: "Rock the Casbah" – The Clash. Part 6: "D'yer Maker" – Led Zeppelin. Part 7: "My Bad Reputation" – Joan Jett; "Offer" – Alanis Morissette; "Everything" – Alanis Morissette. Part 8: "You Never Can Tell" – Chuck Berry
Chapter 21: Smashed Pumpkins
Stolen minutes. Those few extra minutes spent lazily hiding beneath a blanket on a particularly cold morning are wonderful. Sometimes, I wish they never ended.
I'm too warm and comfortable and uncaring to consider hoping out of bed and facing the world just yet. A bird or two chirp, soft light bathes the room, a chilly breeze ruffles my hair and flirts with the curtain. The clock on the wall ticks ominously, but I don't want to know anything about silly notions of time; all I want is to wiggle my toes.
All I want is to continue feeling this enrapturing gentleness, my fuzzy state of mind making everything seem… so easy.
Stolen moments. Sometimes, I pretend that there's someone beside me, kissing my brow, sharing this peaceful, slow awakening with me.
I dream a lot. I dream about being cherished and loved. I dream about being cared for and caring deeply for another. And, during those stolen minutes, the dream seems more attainable, more real somehow.
"Deck the halls with boughs of holly, Fa-la-la-la-la, la –oops… wrong holiday!"
"Misao, if you so much as open your mouth to start singing the Monster Mash, I guarantee you'll have a jack-o-lantern for a head faster than you can say 'Hocus Pocus'!"
Slowly, almost cautiously, Misao's widely parted lips drew together into a thin line. Glaring at the back of Kaoru's head, the perpetually upbeat girl childishly stuck her tongue out at the party pooper in question, before carefully spinning around atop the highest step of the wooden ladder she had been precariously perched upon all morning.
Diligently and purposefully silent, she continued to tape a tinsel garland and black balloons onto the uppermost corner of the whitewashed school gym's wall. Not being an early riser, she had been labeled as a "late arrival" and, much to her chagrin, charged with balloon duty.
"Bloody Mary, Kaoru! I can't believe I almost called you a spoilsport… again…"
"Well 'jeepers creepers' Misao, I didn't know this was supposed to be fun!"
"Because, had you known, it would have made a difference…"
Sticking her hand out of a pumpkin, Kaoru leaned against the long picnic table brought in from the quad by the dance committee and sighed. How she wished she were still in bed…
"I'm sorry, I'm just… Explain to me why we're doing this again, please?" She asked, still unable to wrap her head around the idea that this was indeed happening and that she, Kaoru Kamiya, was in fact making the school look pretty enough for a Halloween Dance… Ugh…
"We don't have enough community service hours to graduate?" Misao suggested, a balloon popping noisily somewhere in the background.
'"Yep," Kaoru assented gloomily, "that sounds about right."
"At least it's for a good cause!" Misao exclaimed cheerfully whilst struggling to maintain her balance. It was the millionth time that she teetered dangerously on that ladder, yet again narrowly escaping death.
"Yeah…" Kaoru agreed, a soft smile worming its way onto her face as she stared long and hard at her chipped nail polish and the rest of her pumpkin-covered hand. "I'm just glad we didn't get needled into taking the elementary school kids trick or treating, or something."
Looking over her shoulder at the blue-eyed girl, Misao couldn't help but cringe; had she truly forgotten to mention that the demon headmaster did not only want them to show signs of school spirit by decorating the halls, the gym, the classrooms and, basically, any bare wall in sight, but that he also wanted the lot of them – the misfortunate few who lacked the required amount of community service hours to graduate at the end of the school year – to do their part and head trick or treating groups that afternoon? Boy was she in trouble!
In fact, if the savage way Kaoru was busily spooning the pulp and seeds out of that pumpkin – with a big, fat, perverse grin on her face to boot! – was any indication, gulping was very much in order and a wobbly ladder was to be the least of her troubles.
"Umm… yeah, about that…"
Truth be told, had white noise not deafened all assembled inside the school gymnasium, Misao would have probably been able to finish her sentence – "probably" being the key word.
"Now that's what I call a sound system!" Kaoru yelled appreciatively over the blaring music.
Quickly climbing down the old rickety ladder, the most openly curious of the girls ran to the nearest window to sneak a peek at the commotion on the quad. Once her sage-green eyes locked on the source of such divine chaos, the clattering of the decrepit ladder at long last collapsing unto itself fell on all too deaf ears.
"Hey, Kamiya… is that… Kaz?" Misao asked loudly, a quivering finger pointed at a figure coolly striding away from a beat up black car.
"Please! As if Kaz owned…" Pinning her nose against the glass, the rest of Kaoru's clever remark stuck to her throat, a disturbing rasp the only sound she was capable of emitting. It simply couldn't be…
"Either pinch me or point me in the nearest direction to the Styx River; I have a bad feeling that that creaky wooden ladder finally did me in!"
"Is that a mohawk I see?"
"Not to mention a bull ring."
"Bold move."
"I know! Not everyone can pull one off!"
Admiration and shock; confusion and slowly dawning comprehension; awe and horror: was this a miracle or a sign of the impending apocalypse? Neither girl had a clue; it was too soon to tell.
"Hey girls! Who are we ogling today and, more importantly, how are them 'buns'?"
Whirling around rapidly, with identical petrified expressions permanently engraved on their faces, the alarmed twosome took in Terry's dirty smirk and simultaneously made gagging noises.
"Terry, we were gaping in wonder at the new and improved – or so it seems – version of Kaz; trust me, no ogling was involved!" Kaoru hastily explained.
"No ogling will ever be involved!" Misao pressed on hurriedly. "Thoughts of Kaz will always and forever be asexual where I am concerned!"
"For crying out loud! You mentioned Kaz's rear end!"
"I'm scarred for life!"
"So what if it was Kaz?" Terry inquired nonplussed, her platinum blonde fringe hiding a pair of raised eyebrows. "I don't get what the big deal is. It's not like I haven't groped his ass before; it's pretty firm."
Misao and Kaoru deadpanned. Their wild-child friend was being serious, wasn't she?
"You… Terry… Kaz…" Misao managed to stammer out, her right eye twitching spasmodically.
"What?" Terry insisted, unable to understand the girls' strange behavior. "It's not like we had sex or anything; we just fooled around once."
Fish out of water: what an impression the shocked pair made.
"Anyway, what do you guys think about his hair?" The good-humored blonde asked, casually digging her hands into her jeans' front pockets. "I dyed it for him yesterday."
"One: that was way too much information…" Kaoru listed, shuddering at the very thought of their fellow classmate's little confession. "Two, and just so we're clear: Kaz went from nerdy-ish, sensitive, slightly EMO kind of guy to punk overnight?"
"Well, Iron Maiden was way too heavy for him, so I figured that if he wanted a change, it couldn't be all that drastic. Punk rock seemed like a nice middle ground for him; he's too happy by nature to be a goth."
Terry could keep on talking; it didn't mean that what she said had to make any sense, though.
"Do we have to pray that he's not into Avril Lavigne?" The wannabe actress in their midst demanded gravely, fearful that the answer to her question would be a thumbs up.
"I forbid him from going near that particular CD rack at the record store."
"The big question, though, is why is he doing this?" Kaoru wondered aloud, her mind drifting down a specifically dreary path. "Is this a manifestation of rebellion against his father? Is he acting out? Is this a lame attempt at hitting his old man where it hurts most? Has he been infected with the post-modern ennui disease that has taken over high-schools everywhere? Or, could it be that Kaz has finally come into touch with the cool side of his personality?"
"Does Kaz even have a cool side?" Misao asked levelly, popping a Jolly Rancher into her mouth.
"This will take some getting used to..." Kaoru admitted, warily looking out the wide window. "Stupid post-modernism! From art to trend…"
Even if she figured that her friends were overreacting, Terry had to hand it to them: post-modern ennui could be a drag and, considering their lovely pal's dubious reasons for owning a Sex Pistols CD, at the moment the boy was nothing short of an irritating poser. However, they all did love him to bits and the bizarre always did tend to have its fair share of good:
"Girls, big picture: free rides, awesome sound system, good tunes galore and Kaz – being the spoiled brat that he is – will definitely score us all tickets to great rock concerts. Now what do you think about the drastic change?"
Terry Anderson's words of wisdom hit home; after all, she was the one sole member of their little group capable of seeing beyond an ocean of details, relaxing and enjoying freewheeling. Her big blasé heart always managed to put things in perspective.
"I can see myself riding the crest of that wave!" Misao commented with a wink, visibly cheered up.
"Kaz was the normal one – compared to the rest of you lot, anyway. I see myself drowning in a sea of Xanax!" Kaoru whined, visibly upset.
"Good!" Terry mischievously cheered. "Now, at what time is he supposed to pick us up for the trick or treating mayhem? My band has a gig tonight and I can't be late."
The sapphire-eyed teen took one lock at the panic written all over her best friend's face and knew without shadow of a doubt that something was up, something that she most definitely was not going to like.
"What trick or treating?" She asked suspiciously, her eyes narrowing onto the ashen-faced, tightlipped female that stood trembling before her. "Well?"
Realizing that Kaoru had no clue as to what was going on, Terry steered clear of the two girls, leaned against a wall covered in black spider webs and… waited for the show to get on the road. This was going to be…amusing.
Misao laughed nervously and took approximately ten paces away from the soon-to-be-murderous senior before hesitantly starting to explain just why exactly she was going down:
"Umm… about that…"
Five minutes later a large pumpkin crashed through a gym window, soared through the air and splattered onto the school's front yard: smashed pumpkins season was on!
How could it be so hard? Kenshin tightly crumpled the already crinkled napkin in his fist. Who was he kidding? He was a coward; always had been. Like Tomoe used to say, it was always "one step forward and two steps back" with him.
Releasing the worn paper napkin from his grip, Kenshin flattened it out on the coffee table and re-read the phone number carefully jotted onto it. Most people would have hurriedly scribbled the digits, awful and barely legible calligraphy on the soft, ribbed paper surface the only traces of a day or night spent in good company, the last vestiges of and the blossoming hope for a future encounter. But not Kaoru.
No, when she decided that he should be able to contact her "whenever", as she had so eloquently put it, she had taken her sweet time writing down the curvy letters of her name and the rounded numbers that were currently tormenting him. She had deposited such trust in him with that "whenever", something usually reserved for only the closest of friends, and by being so open every time they met… she wasn't like anyone he knew.
He was used to people wearing masks, chasing their tails, erecting barriers and employing every type of self-defense mechanism known to man; such day by day sincerity as was hers was new and, frankly, somewhat intimidating.
Maybe that was it, that was what made it so hard for him to simply punch in the number sequence adroitly scrawled down on a paltry napkin after hearing the telephone's dial tone. Whatever the reason, it was too bad that he always stopped at the dial tone.
Glaring murderously at the receiver, Kenshin gently massaged his scalp and got to wondering just why exactly it was that fate had taken him on as its favorite chew toy. See, if it weren't for the dry-cleaning, then he wouldn't even be in this position. Although, if she hadn't been such an utter drunken mess that night, he wouldn't have had to dispose of his favorite pair of shoes and send her clothes off to the dry cleaners to begin with. Then again, he could have simply left her to fend off for herself at the frat party, as opposed to taking up the role of knight in shining armor.
Come to think of it, fate had nothing at all to do with it. He'd screwed himself over quite nicely without the help of divine intervention this time around; he was just an idiot that way, an idiot who – by the by – wouldn't stop staring at a wrinkled napkin. An idiot who couldn't keep his eyes off the phone. An idiot who was, no buts about it, going on a quick ride to a nice house with a nice garden to see a nice girl about returning some clothes.
With a loud sigh, Kenshin picked up the remote, turned the television on and began stalling. What was he supposed to say when he saw her? Her 'goodbye' had been pretty adamant when they'd last seen each other, even if he had been pretty opposed to it himself. Either way, did he make it hasty or did he actually want to stick around and chat idly for a while? Most importantly, though, how did he know that it was going to take him throwing away at least another hour of his life – as if he hadn't wasted enough time hunched over the telephone – before he was finally out the door? Why did he have to be such an idiot? A procrastinating idiot, at that…
In light of the circumstances, all Kenshin could do was sigh and maul over the crisis while watching reruns of some old, boring '70s sitcom. Sorting things out was clearly going to take a while, even if, in the back of his head, he already knew that he would be playing the part of delivery boy that very same warm October afternoon.
I should have never gotten out of bed…
"Misao, would you kindly turn away from the TV screen for five seconds please?"
Nothing. No reaction. I doubt she's even blinking.
"Misao, I'm talking to you."
Still nothing. It's as if she's under hypnosis and I'm just a fly on the wall. A very far off wall. A wall in a faraway land. A wall floating around in space.
"Misao!"
If it were anyone else, I would consider the possibility that they'd gone deaf but, seeing Misao sitting at the very foot of her bed, digging into a giant bowl of popcorn, I'd be damned if I didn't know otherwise…
"Misao, stop the tape this instant or Piglet gets it!"
Now that had the desired effect! Truth be told, grabbing hold of the pink stuffed animal and threatening to decapitate it always had the desired effect; that's what happens when people get too attached to material possessions, I suppose...
"Kaoru!!! Quit threatening Piglet!" Misao wails, wide eyes finally ungluing themselves from the screen. "Can't you wait five more minutes? He's about to drop her off at the embassy; that's one of the most moving scenes!"
No one can blame me if the sudden urge to roll my eyes creeps over me, right? I mean, she's seen this old movie a million times already and all she has to do is press 'pause', listen to me rant, help me find a solution to the problem that is mostly her fault – for starters – and then I'll be on my merry way and she can peacefully get back to worshipping Audrey Hepburn. The way I see it, I'm being pretty darn reasonable, all things considered.
"Last warning…"
Glaring at me as if I'd gone right on ahead and killed her best friend – who I, incidentally, happen to be – she heeds my request and, though angry, gives me her full attention. Frankly, I could do without her unfounded, controlled rage, but at least she's not giving me lip…yet, anyway.
Snatching the rose colored plushie out of my grasp, she hugs it to her chest and throws a handful of popcorn at me for good measure.
"I know that terrorism is 'in' now, but I'd appreciate it if you refrained from taking Piglet hostage ever again," she comments crisply, all the while smoothing out the wrinkles on the duvet.
"Yeah, I don't think so. Anyhow," I press onward, ignoring her incensed stare as I pace across the room, "I'm in a bit of a predicament and you have quite a bit to do with it. Care to hazard a guess?"
I may have gotten her worked up by interrupting her little film session but, by the sheepish way she's now looking at me, I get the distinct feeling that she knows exactly where I'm going with this.
"Umm… not really, no. But tell me, how did it go at the store?"
Feigning ignorance has never cut it with me, especially when a person goes right on ahead and makes it so freakishly obvious! Dear me, will Misao ever learn?
"Slim pickings."
"How slim?"
"My choices have been narrowed down to, either a chicken suit, a bear suit, a clown suit, a Santa suit, or a white sheet."
"Personally, I'd go with the white sheet; the other costumes will only add on excess padding and make you look pregnant or obese."
Sitting down on the bed beside my green-eyed, impish classmate, strangling her is currently at the forefront of my 'to do' list: I can't believe that she has the gall to crack jokes at my expense when this is all her lousy fault to begin with!
"You are seconds away from getting pummeled, little girl. Unless, of course, you have some sort of contribution to make to this conversation that will rid me of the quirky homicidal thoughts spinning round inside my head."
Squirming uncomfortably under my intense gaze, Misao quickly stuffs Piglet under her billowy shirt, seeking to protect the stuffed animal with a defective ear – a tea party gone wrong when she was four caused the poor thing irreparable damage – like a mother would a child.
With it now presumably safe from harm – I won't make any promises –, the infuriating girl decides to go on Rodin's The Thinker mode and mull over the subject. Insert cue for me to randomly pluck strands of hair from my scalp right there, please.
A short while later, her sudden face-splitting grin can do nothing but put me on edge. Also, I have to admit, it has me checking for a light bulb floating over her head like some sort of halo.
"By George, I think I've got it!"
"You've been watching too many old movies lately…"
Paying me little to no attention, Misao leaps off the bed and makes a run for the closet. Throwing its doors open, she plunges in, her bouncy silhouette disappearing from sight.
Skirts, tops, shirts, shorts, socks – was that a garter? – tankinis, cardigans and other assorted clothing articles fly through the air and land all over the bedroom floor, scattered.
An eternity or two later, she reemerges and strides confidently towards me, proudly holding up her find for all the world to see.
"Misao… are those coconuts???"
Maybe I should have just let her watch Roman Holiday in peace…
"And remember boys and girls, cherry bombs are your friend," the Grim Reaper said, patting a dwarf's head.
On the other side of the corridor, by a row of gray lockers, a very sexy cowgirl tipped her black hat and responded to a princess' question:
"Actually, I find it best to stay in character all throughout the afternoon. I speak from personal experience when I say that grown-ups find that particularly endearing – Snow White was a great role for me –, which is fantastic considering our main goal: to get as much candy as possible!"
Standing by the water fountain, a blue fairy waved her wand around and separated pirates and soldiers from witches and mermaids.
"Boys on one side, girls on the other," she hollered, her silver wand tracing an invisible dividing line between the two groups. "Now, repeat after me: 'trick or treat'!"
"This thing is itchy!" Kaoru complained, scratching her thigh and casting a sidelong glance at Danielle, the fairy with military tendencies, while the kids surrounding them responded enthusiastically and noisily to her command.
"I'll say! This nicotine patch is killing me!" Terry whined, rubbing her arm. "I take it none of you have a light, right?"
A seven year old ghost flickered on a flashlight, but all he got out of the tall blonde wearing a pleated mini skirt with double leather buckles was a heavy sigh and a shake of the head.
"I'll be right back. I'm gonna go on outside for a sec and see if there's anyone I can bum a cigarette from," Terry announced, ripping off the nicotine patch. "You gonna be okay in that grass skirt?"
"Only if Dani stops encouraging the little monsters to scream as loud as their lungs allow..."
"I doubt that'll ever happen. Cheer up, though: at least you're not wearing a coconut bra!"
Grumbling and tugging at her lei, the petite raven-haired high school senior watched her friend go with considerable dread. Showing as much skin as she was – never in a million years would she have guessed that she would be parading around the school's hallways in a bikini top – she needed her support system to keep her from going red in the face every split second. Her 'support system', however, seemed to have other plans…
"I don't understand what all the fuss is about, Kaoru; I think the Hawaiian look suits you just fine."
And the support system was back on track! Danielle sure knew how to be sweet. True, she was bossy like hell, but her kindness and syrupy voice were the perfect cover-up; never would one expect domineering stances from the gentle, delicate sixteen-year-old. The devil's advantage – or rather, in this particular case, the fairy's – lies in its uncanny ability to mislead, as they say.
"Thanks, Dani." Kaoru swiveled her head to the side and frostily glowered at the person in a cow-print mini dress. "Misao is still going to pay with interests, but thanks."
When said person wearing said mini dress heard said comment, she couldn't refrain from scowling and dispersing the crowd of little girls circling her with a few dismissive waves of her hand. Walking over to the blue fairy and the hula dancer in her black cowboy boots, Nancy Sinatra came to mind, for some odd reason…
"I heard that!"
"It's no secret!"
The beads dangling at the end of Danielle's thin cornrows tinkled and clinked together once her shoulders started shaking. At the sight of the squabble – more specifically, her friends' scrunched up faces and the raspberry blowing taking place – keeping laughter reigned in was oh so hard!
"Oh, stop it! You look a little pale in a swimsuit, but you work out; your flat, sturdy tummy relatively makes up for the lack of sunkissed skin," Misao stated rather tactlessly, momentarily putting an end to the feud. "So… are we still on for tonight?"
"Last time I checked, mom and dad still love Halloween…" Kaoru mumbled, arms stubbornly crossed over her chest.
"Excellent! See, my cousin's in town and I was wondering if he could come with."
"Whatever." Kaoru remarked, shrugging her shoulders. "Which cousin? You have like fifty! It's hard to keep count and remember who's who."
"Smiley!"
"He must have horrible parents."
"It's a nickname, you dope!" Misao corrected, rolling her eyes. Her fake wispy eyelashes made her look like Daisy Duck when she did that.
"My bad: you're the horrible one."
"Okay, I'm horrible. Moving along; you know Smiley."
"Sorry, but 'Smiley' doesn't really ring a bell."
"Well, when you see him tonight, you'll know him."
"Sure, whatever," Kaoru agreed indifferently, for her thoughts and her eyes were far too busy elsewhere. That little boy, if he so much as did what she thought he would go right on ahead and do, then… "Hey Bluebeard, quit pulling Rapunzel's hair! The way to a girl's heart, contrarily to what your instincts are telling you right now, is not paved with assault – that just leads to a restraining order. And you, Superman, stop picking your nose! It's a bad habit, it's gross and I suggest you outgrow it fast! Picture this as a life motto, if it helps any: 'Play-Doh or boogers? Plasticine is cooler'. Hey you! Cherub boy! No wedgies allowed on my watch, even if it is your God given right on this All Hallows Eve to terrorize the neighborhood!"
Supervising rugrats wasn't easy, that was for sure!
"Damn!" Danielle uttered, awed at the way that her friend was amazingly enough taking charge of the situation with the trick or treaters. "And afterwards they call me bossy! Compared to this, I'm just highly determined."
"Please! You, highly determined and a notch less than bossy? That's like saying Kaz's mohawk isn't clashing with his hood!" Misao intervened.
"Says the porn star cowgirl!" Kaz exclaimed, pointing his plastic scythe at the skimpily dressed female.
"I'm sorry Casey, but you look like a grim version of the Coneheads. Oh and, FYI, there's a difference between sensuous and downright pornographic."
"Your fence net pantyhose makes it really hard for me to see the thin line, Misao."
Toddling away from the bickering twosome, Danielle made her way toward the cafeteria, only to bump into Terry after barely taking two steps in its direction.
"So, what did I miss?"
Hmm…How should she phrase it, exactly?
"Don't worry Terry, you will still be a part of their childhood memories."
"So, how did it go with your crew?"
"Fairly well. We hit a couple of slumps once or twice, but my kids have enough sugar on them for each and every one of them to suffer diabetic comas."
"Success and excess often go hand in hand!"
"I'm just glad I'm not a parent; all those brats are going to get stomachaches for sure."
"Halloween just wouldn't be Halloween without the sugar highs and bellyaching, Kaoru."
"Yeah… just like no Halloween is complete without old Mrs. Wheeler."
"Raisins again?"
"Since we were children, nature's candy has been her contribution to the holiday; why would this year be any different?"
"People change?"
"I don't think Mrs. Wheeler is a fan of personal growth."
"But you are."
"That I am, Misao."
"Which means that when she acted all shocked at the children's disappointment, you clarified things for her, didn't you?"
"You read me like a book."
"That I do. So, what were your exact words?"
"Oh, all I did was tell her that she gave children who crave sugar highs like a junkie does cocaine raisins and that, instead of behaving all surprised, she should count her lucky stars and be glad that they were only kids and not substance deprived drug addicts experiencing withdrawal symptoms. Why she slammed the door in my face is pretty much open to interpretation."
Sitting on the hood of Kaz's sad excuse for a car, Misao and Kaoru amiably chatted away, sharing a packet of marshmallows. Sometime in the afternoon, Misao had decided to forgo the cowboy hat and, currently, she was regretting the boots; it was simply too hot to be wearing anything over her head and her feet were in dire need of a soak in cool water. As for the black silk neckerchief that she had worn round her neck, it had been thrown to the wind – along with caution – once one of the kiddies she had been in charge of almost got run over by a minivan.
"So… what are we waiting for? I'm dying to get out of this itchy fake grass skirt!" Kaoru mentioned, scratching her knee.
"Instructions."
"Instructions?"
"Instructions."
Gazing off to the horizon, Kaoru tried to catch a glimpse of that which held her best friend captive… to no avail. Finally, and with a shrug of her shoulders, she pulled on one of her companion's braids and pressed the subject:
"Spill Makimachi!"
"Ow! Stop pulling!" The abused girl yelped.
"Start talking!"
"Ow! No! Patience is a-"
"I am wearing a bikini top and the sun already went down; I spent my entire afternoon keeping kids in line; I helped decorate the school: be a dear and make my day by elaborating on the 'instructions' deal," Kaoru said sweetly, yanking on the girl's braid with all her might.
"Alright guys; we're all set," Kaz commented, before staring at the weird scene unfolding before him. "Guys… what's going on?"
In a desperate attempt to escape her aggressor, Misao did the unthinkable and pinched Kaoru's nipple. When the car owner's voice reached their ears, the pair stopped in their tracks and thus, Kaz found them: one with a hand in the other's hair, and one with her hand on the other's boob.
"Is there something either of you would like to confess? I promise I won't judge."
Swiftly jumping away from each other, a shower of marshmallows met asphalt. Blushing furiously, Kaoru rubbed her sore breast while Misao did the same with her aching scalp.
"Keep your male fantasizing to yourself and get to the point." Kaoru ordered, her embarrassment quickly replaced by anger in the wake of the teenage boy's lewd grin.
"You're no fun," he said, pouting.
With a dejected sigh, the teenager figured he had no choice but to get down to business, so, he spoke:
"Halloween is the greatest time of the year. Every 31st of October, we have the unique chance to do and get away with almost anything. Sadly, tradition has kept us from making use of this day's significance to its full potential; we've been made to wait in the sidelines for our time in the sun. Ladies, at long last, our night has come and sticking to tradition has paid off. Tonight will be a night that none of us shall ever forget. Tonight will be ours! Tonight… it's payback time."
Misao was positively beaming; Kaoru, on the other hand, was positively lost.
"Congratulations on the presidential speech Kaz, but I'm still waiting for you to start speaking English."
The poor boy opened and shut his mouth several times, before shaking his head and letting it go, as he often had to do when dealing with this, one of his closest friends. He always had to bear in mind that she was blessed with a very critical spirit, even if she was not prone to passing judgment on anyone and sticking with the sentence.
Kaoru was not shy about complaining, but at the end of the day, pettiness was not in her nature and she preferred to overlook things, mannerisms and strong personality traits that she didn't particularly agree with rather than to go about labeling people. In other words, her oftentimes vexing attitude was ultimately forgivable.
Opting to cut back on the rest of his impassioned preamble to 'The Great Halloween Plan', Kaz did things the boring, prosaic way, and unveiled the egg carton he had been hiding behind his back.
"We're entitled to… making omelets?" Kaoru inquired, now more confused than ever before.
Smacking the palm of her hand against her forehead, Misao groaned. The girl was all bark and no bite; could she be any more of a goody two shoes? It was Halloween, a grayish egg carton was being held in front of her and they were sitting amongst cars: in anyone else's head, omelets would not be assumption number one…
The silence that followed suit unnerved her. Kaoru was growing weary of the secrecy and of staring at an ugly egg carton waiting for it to do… something – maybe she had watched too many James Bond movies? Either way, the whole situation was rubbing her the wrong way and so, she did the only thing within her power to remedy it: she yanked hard on one of Misao's plaits.
"Ow!" Reclaiming possession of her own hair, the slender girl with big green eyes decided it was safest to spill the beans immediately or else she risked going bald. "We're going to egg Greenburg's Volvo."
"Oh. Well… that's the most sensible thing I've heard all day."
Pushing herself off the car's hood, Kaoru strode over to where Kaz was standing – mouth agape –, picked up the egg carton lying in his outstretched hands and walked further into the parking lot.
"Wait!" Kaz shouted, turning to run after her. "This is only the beginning! We were assigned Greenburg's car, but we aren't the only group out there ready to… there are others inside the school and the main event… there are instructions! Kaoru!"
"Yeah Kaoru, there are instructions! This is a coordinated senior year team effort! Don't you wanna know more before you…?" Misao, who had also gone after the impetuous teen, trailed off mid-sentence and paused mid-step when she heard the definitive sound of an egg going 'splat' against a windshield.
"I guess you don't…" Misao mumbled to herself before shrugging and joining in on the fun.
Kaoru trudged along the sidewalk briskly. She was on a mission – one she was actually looking forward to – and nothing would stop her. Finally, being a senior and having to bend to the principal's whims was starting to pay off, especially since the two rolls of toilet paper in her hand had his name on them… or more like his house's number. Oh well, minor technicality!
That was the master coup Kaz had been talking about. All teachers were stuck late at school for some sort of meeting, giving the students a more than perfect opportunity to rebel against authority by pulling the ultimate Halloween prank, the prank to end all pranks, in fact. It was a tradition for each senior class to try and outdo the prior one, in terms of pulling a massive stunt.
Basically, the whole thing consisted in using the faculty members' naivety against them: every single teacher at the meeting had, at some point or another, complained about the lack of school spirit that the student body possessed, about its apathy towards nearly every subject worthy of discussion on the face of the earth, about its inability to commit to a cause, about its incapability to set petty differences aside and organize itself in order to work communally towards a specific goal; it was as clear as day that the students had been misjudged and put down way too often. Now, they were hell bent on proving the adults that mercilessly pointed out their ineptitude and disregarded them wrong.
Synchronized egging of cars at the school parking lot had been the first assault.
Currently, a brave and more experienced group of rebels was busy vandalizing the classrooms with graffiti.
The Halloween dance that would soon get started was to be a battleground: cherry bombs, stink bombs, firecrackers and a truckload of weaponry – Cole Williams had put his pick-up truck at the disposal of that particular faction of their army – were being sneaked into the high school at the very moment.
Several teams of teenage operatives had been consigned rendezvous points and rolls upon rolls of toilet paper had been handed out. To avoid drawing suspicion, they were each to head out individually, act normal whilst making their way to the appointed location, regroup and attack.
It was a brilliant strategy and Kaoru knew that the night's dealings would be more than satisfactory. She also knew that detention or even possible suspension was a given, but that was a price that she, like the rest of her comrades, was willing to pay. Man, she couldn't wait to 'attack'! Hence, her haste and brisk pace.
So, all was going well for Kaoru: the green grass skirt didn't seem nearly as itchy, walking around in a bikini top didn't make her all that flustered anymore, wearing an orchid in her hair without actually being Hawaiian didn't feel as corny and the prospect of throwing toilet paper around in the principal's front yard made her ecstatic.
Yes, everything was just dandy… then a familiar voice she hadn't heard in days called her name and everything went to hell.
"Kaoru?"
Slowly, achingly so, the raven-haired girl spun on her heel, her blue eyes flashing, her heart pounding faster and faster.
"Aloha?"
At first he hadn't recognized her, but that determined, slightly jaunty walk of hers was unmistakable. Poking his head out the jeep's window, Kenshin's gaze traveled all the way from her sandal-clad feet, to her long skirt's waistband, up her navel, over her green and white floral-print bikini top and lei – can't blame a guy for looking –, beyond the tiny cleft on her chin to her chapped rosy lips, before resting and focusing on her smoky eyes…initially anyway. Soon enough, the two rolls of toilet paper clutched at her sides had his full attention.
"Are you...?" He asked, vaguely motioning towards her outfit and pointing at her weapons of choice. "And… is that…?"
Stomping towards the vehicle, Kaoru huffily crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes at the driver. What was he looking so shocked about, anyway? Was it or was it not Halloween? Didn't people wear costumes at that particular time of year? Didn't the stereotypical teenager go all out on pranks on the last day of October? True, stereotypical wasn't exactly her…
In any case, he was delaying her, duty called and the fact that her idiot heart was going at sixty miles per hour and somersaulting like a fucking Olympics gold medalist was enough to make a girl grumpy. Also, the fact that he hadn't called after their latest mini drama – apparently he wasn't too fond of that particular device known to mankind as a telephone – wasn't what one could consider a confidence booster.
"Yes Kenshin, I am wearing a horrible costume – don't ask! – and – that's right! –, this right here in both my hands is toilet paper," she snapped.
Since he continued to peer on at her without uttering a word, barely concealed amusement dancing in his violet eyes, Kaoru was granted a moment to ponder how very ridiculous being dressed like a hula dancer while traipsing around town with toilet paper rolls in hand really was. Embarrassment that she had thought she had overcome hours prior to this fortuitous encounter crawled back into her system and warmed her cheeks.
"I know it's childish," she lamely explained, "but if you knew our school's principal, you would volunteer to TP his house as well."
In retrospect, explaining herself only made the whole thing sound way worse. It wouldn't surprise her, at this point, if he saw her as nothing more than a silly kid, patted her on the head and went on his merry way: could she be more immature if she tried? Really, egging cars??? How the mighty hath fallen…
"Your costume's not horrible," he, at long last, intervened, a small smile on his lips.
"Yes it is and it's all Misao's fault!" Kaoru purposefully griped, pouting as she looked down at her toes.
"Misao?" Kenshin questioned, unsure as to whom she was referring to.
"The best friend," she grumbled low, keeping her head down. "Describing her, though, will simply take too long and I know for a fact that we both don't have that kind of time; no one on Earth does."
"She's that great, hunh?"
"No, she just owes me that big."
They both timidly smiled at each other and Kaoru blushed. A brief silence followed as they found themselves out of conversation. Nevertheless, it wasn't as uncomfortable or awkward as it could have been, considering that the exchange – or lack thereof – was coming to pass at the side of the road.
Locking eyes with the schoolgirl he had actually been on his way to see, Kenshin unhurriedly slipped his hand out the window and, without breaking eye contact, gently repositioned the milky white orchid that had been falling out of Kaoru's dark tresses behind her ear, softly brushing his fingers against its alabaster petals and her cheekbone as he calmly pulled his arm away.
"So… how's Tomoe?" The flustered gal asked, after shyly looking away from his penetrating stare and taking a small step away from his jeep.
The attempt to distance herself from him – emotionally and physically – was not entirely lost on our favorite idiot, though he did choose to ignore what was staring him in the face rather quickly, mechanically answering the loaded question whose subtext, to anyone else, would have seemed much more than simply polite. Perhaps it was that he was a man accustomed to sweeping the undesirables of this life under the rug.
"She's… well. I'll tell her you asked about her."
Nodding dumbly and looking off to the side Kaoru wondered if maybe she shouldn't get going. For some foolish reason – namely that she happened to like the guy – she wanted to keep talking with him, but… things were different now, weren't they? She had met the woman she would have to live up to and she knew well enough within her heart that that just wasn't her and that she could never fill those elegant designer shoes. She liked her flawed self just fine, thank you very much, and her imperfection was at total opposites with Tomoe Yukishiro's apparent perfection. Besides, she didn't want to compete for anyone's attention; she just wasn't that kind of girl.
"Are things at her house less… however it is they were when we allegedly saved her?" She found herself asking, despite her thoughts of hitting the road.
Kenshin found himself smiling at her again. He knew that past discomfort over Tomoe's abrupt disruption had put Kaoru down and he was aware that, were he to be having this conversation with someone else, his ex-girlfriend would by no means be the topic of discussion. However, he wasn't talking with anyone else; he was talking with Kaoru, a kind selfless girl who could not for the life of her ignore a person in trouble.
Perhaps that was why, though dispirited and reluctant to stay and keep chatting, she opened her mouth and voiced her concern for a woman that she no doubt viewed as nothing short of a stranger: she was generous, and that was that.
"Far from it," he answered. "The Yukishiros are… an opinionated bunch, to say the least. Strong convictions tend to clash and it takes a while for the dust to settle."
"Sounds… scary," she confessed, scrunching up her nose.
"You have no idea," the redhead agreed with a chuckle.
"And I'm probably all the better for it, am I right?" Kaoru asked with a quirked eyebrow, subtly making fun of his secretive nature.
"Unless you like the thought of having Enishi put worms in your spaghetti and Mr. Yukishiro threaten you with decapitation if you so much as lay a finger on his only daughter, then yes."
Giggling, Kaoru imagined a stern man in a suit with broad shoulders dealing out death threats. That image was replaced by an even more menacing one of The Godfather, which did nothing but make her laugh harder once she pictured Kenshin, of all people, defending his love for Tomoe right there, in front of Don Corleone. But, in truth, what had her nearly rolling on the floor, laughing uncontrollably, was the very idea of Kenshin facing her father. No doubt the situation would be quite similar… and if it were to happen for real, she was sure that she would laugh her head off right then and there too!
"Mr. Yukishiro sounds like my father," she stated once she had calmed down a bit. "Of course, for some reason, archaic terms like 'defile' and words like 'body' and 'river' would be part of his speech. Poor Kaz never recuperated from that, even when I told him he was in the clear and that dad had finally gotten it through his thick skull that we were just friends…"
"Your father certainly sounds like someone I can't wait but meet," Kenshin intoned sarcastically.
"You know, maybe if you sounded more enthused, I'd buy it."
"You look gullible enough."
Oh no. No, no, no. Did foot-in-mouth syndrome have no cure? Because, frankly, calling Kaoru gullible – of all things – was like begging for double double toil and trouble… as an appetizer.
"Okay, I'll bite," she drawled out. Gnawing at her bottom lip, her mouth broke into a mischievous grin as she twirled her lei round the index finger of her empty hand, both rolls of paper now tucked in the crook of her elbow. "Let's say I'm that gullible. Let's say I'm made of sugar and spice and everything nice. Since I believe your statement to be true, then how about this: I cordially invite you to my house, to meet my dad, whenever you feel up to it; deal?"
"Are you challenging me?" Kenshin asked scornfully – well, as scornfully as a man who revered Gandhi and the Dalai Lama could voice anything. After having survived Oibore Yukishiro, handling Mr. Kamiya would be a piece of cake.
"Are you chicken?" Kaoru retorted.
"Am I supposed to fall for that?"
"Only after I start clucking."
After giving it some thought, Kenshin decided that maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. It would give him an excuse to be around Kaoru for a couple of hours, if nothing else.
"Tell you what," he said, "I have something that belongs to you in the backseat and I was planning to stop by your house to return it before running into you. In light of the circumstances though, maybe you would like to run this 'meeting' by your father first, set a date and let me know. I'll give you the dry cleaning then."
"Dry cleaning? I'm intrigued," Kaoru admitted to her curiosity. Shrugging, though, she thought it best to get back on track before Kenshin wussed out on her. "Actually, tonight's fine since my parents are hosting a Halloween get-together. So… you in?"
"Are you really going to TP the principal's house?"
"Don't change the subject," she said, patting the car's hood and walking away, her long hair bouncing about her. "Just be there at 10:00."
"Are you setting me up?" Kenshin inquired loudly after her retreating form.
Pointedly raising an eyebrow at the college student, the young girl in a hula dancer costume spun around and smirked. "Anyone ever tell you that you ask too many questions Kenny? Ten o'clock, okay? Now, if you'll excuse me, there's a townhouse whose front yard needs to be vandalized and I'm running late."
"Kaoru, I have to say, I never took you for a prankster."
"Just goes to show! You're not the only one who can keep secrets," she vociferously threw over her shoulder, slowly slipping away into the warm October night ridden with strange creatures and anarchic teenagers looking to stir a cauldron of chaos.
Disappearing from sight round the corner, the full moon cast a pale blue sheen on her body and her shadow bounced off a nearby wall. Then, the streets were full of people, of lights, of excitement, of muffled laughter and all kinds of scents. The world kept on spinning after she was gone.
It was only when she was around that, somehow, everything else ceased to exist; people faded away, the bright lights dimmed and her voice and laughter drowned out all other sounds. It was that when she was near, she managed to fill up everything.
Sometimes, without her even knowing, Kaoru achieved the impossible: she became everything.
Lushly landscaped with almond trees and shrubbery, the mint green townhouse stood tall and proud, various jack-o-lanterns distributed on its wide front porch. The principal's house was, in fact, picture perfect.
All the lights were out and not a sound was heard coming from within the beautiful albeit pastoral structure; in a way, it was as if the house itself were asking for it.
Not ones to disappoint, soon enough, as if on cue, a horde of seniors rushed onto the tranquil scene. As rolls of toilet paper began flying through the air, each and every single student was hit with the delightful notion that they would be the ones responsible for turning the principal's conceited smile upside down.
The sense of fulfillment, unity and excitement buzzing all around the area quickly escalated to an undiluted collective state of euphoria and so, in no time, all the trees, the perfectly manicured lawn and the rooftop were covered in a gauzy white blanket.
Trodden and sullied, the wisps of white covering the deep green grass were suddenly streaked orange as rows of pumpkins smashed down against the earth, dozens of hands frenziedly thrusting the rounded fruit onto the ground.
From an aerial viewpoint, Principal Hart's front lawn resembled a modern art masterpiece, something only a brilliant, alcoholic, tortured artist like Jackson Pollock could have ever pulled off.
Smashed pumpkins season was, undoubtedly, a magical time of year, and, turning on the hose, spraying the toilet paper and making sure that it was soggy enough to dry up in clumps harder to dispose of, only made it that much more special.
Reviewer Responses:
To De Lazy Lime: I was very happy to hear – read, but that's beside the point – that you liked the Gardener/Gardenia part of the last chapter; I wrote that a really long time ago when sudden inspiration took me completely by surprise. It is true, for most writers, the act of writing in itself can be great therapy, especially since the author gets to pick the ending and life doesn't just impose it. However, living the lie – as opposed to simply making do with what is actually there – can be quite painful. That is why, in my opinion, writing is such a paradox: one may build worlds and construct sentences through an oftentimes self-destructive act. Thank you for reviewing and have a happy new year!
To Misato-Katsuragi2: Misao appears quite often in this chapter but, unfortunately, Aoshi was not a part of it. Maybe next chapter, but I can't make any promises since I really can't picture him being all for attending a Halloween bash at Kaoru's. It simply wouldn't be very believable. I hope that, despite the lack of M&A interaction, this installment was to your liking – it took way too long to write! Well, Season's Greetings and until next time! Happy 2005!
To VanyD: Sorry for the lack of Sano in this chapter – I miss him too! – but, never fear, he will be back next chapter! As for Kenshin… what did you think of his reintroduction to the story? Was it everything you hoped for? I'll be sure to read more of your story when I have the time; I might be going to Argentina for a couple of weeks in January though, so I can't guarantee anything just yet. However, I reiterate that you have a nice plot on your hands and that your writing ideas seem quite interesting – your portrayal of Megumi still has me slightly mystified. Happy holidays! Bye!
To Vic'chonn: Shishio is definitely going to be a catalyst; as to that, there is no question. Kenshin is a coward, isn't he? Though, in his defense, when people behave as he does, they usually have good reason, especially since he's not afraid of dangerous situations like, say… throwing himself in front of a car to save somebody! His fear of intimacy – for that is what it is – must then, surely, be justified, correct? Just a little something for you to chew on… I'm thrilled that you like the play! I wasn't too sure that people were going to be pleased since it might feel to some as if I'm taking away from the focal point of the story – though, in fact, it's simply a more poetic approach to it. The truth is that it is said that every different flower symbolizes something; gardenias just so happen to represent unspoken love! When I found that out, the idea for the play's first act rapidly formed in my mind. I profusely apologize for, yet again, leaving the M/A situation at a standstill; I know I must be driving you up the wall with the way I keep putting it off. You are right about one thing though… something is going to happen with Aoshi. As for your suspicions regarding Soujiro… stay tuned for next chapter; some answers will finally be brought to light. I don't intend on shooting you, though if you keep putting yourself down with little comments like 'as if anyone cares if I had died' I might just hand the gun right over to you. Seriously, don't do that, you're probably worth far much more than you let on. Kisses, merry New Year and take care of yourself, alright? Bye now!
To --- : I'm glad that chapter 20 helped bring a smile to your face; I hope this one does the same. The Yahiko/Tsubame side story is too sweet and funny to not invest some time in it. Glad you liked the story and have a peaceful New Year!
To pyramidgirl89: I'm not sure if I am going to write a whole play for this story yet. I'll let you know when I decide. Have a great New Year!
To Ri-nee-chan: If you can put up with my tardiness updating, then I can most certainly forgive you for your late reviews! Kaoru's play is, as of now, something that you will get glimpses of once in while; the truth is that, though this story is a K/K, it is quite Kaoru-centric, meaning that the play is something that deals with her personal growth so there are bound to be tidbits of it splayed throughout the pages of this story. I'm not sure that I will be using all Juppon Gatana characters. I know you were looking forward to the return of our beloved idiot redhead; I hope I didn't disappoint. Next chapter there will be plenty of him to go around! Happy New Year darling!!! Until the next update!
To Rabid Turtle: Wow! Your review kind of flustered me up – 'kind of' doesn't even cover it but allow me to save face, okay? Me, a genius? I know at least fifty people who would beg to differ (me included). Umm… I don't think it would be very wise to go around verbally attacking guys, though, if you find the right one to verbally abuse, it can be pretty fun! You are right, I put a lot of time into this; some people could even argue that I put too much time into it. I can't help it though: you're addicted to reading it; I'm addicted to writing it! The only problem with the time input and my unhealthy perfectionist streak is that updating can sometimes – who am I kidding? Oftentimes is more like it! – take pretty long and, for that, I apologize in advance. Joni Mitchell is most definitely a talented artist and, if the opportunity presents itself for me to make reference to her again, I won't hesitate to use it! References, to me, are highly important because due credit must be given wherever credit is due. When writing a story, one is more often than not inspired by every tiny little thing that surrounds us: one day I'm listening to a song and I start mapping out a chapter; I'm reading a poem or a book and the words hit me full force and I realize that that is what my characters should be living through or what they are probably feeling in a certain scene. Furthermore, writing is as much an inner as an outer experience: the writer takes from the outside and internally transforms all experiences and emotions before regurgitating them back outside again, new and changed. I too am a big fan of the K/K chemistry; though Tomoe helped Kenshin, theirs is always a love that hurts more than it heals. I feel as if I must clear up something: I did not say that Shishio does not love Ayumi, I just think that in the grand scale of things the very emotion, the idea of LOVE, is not something he gives much value to because he feels it weakens him. What is Kenhin's strength – his ability to love and feel compassion for others – is viewed by Shishio as a weakness. All in all, it's okay, it's only a divergence of opinions and those are always good; I'm all for people disagreeing with me, the world would be a very boring place if everyone felt the same about everything. I can't believe I got someone into fanfiction; that is truly priceless information. I'm happy to hear that I had some sway in that, it's not every day that one hears something like that. Well, I'll stop now, though I could keep this up forever! Review again sometime and here's to hoping you have a wonderful 2005! Enjoy life to the fullest and may you find a boy to bicker with and love in the upcoming year! Bye!
To Rhapsody07: I'm glad Megg is fully aware of the mass-media problems, at least that way she will know what she's getting herself into. Your mother has a point: money is a good thing, after all. Too bad we artists just don't seem to be all that interested in making millions if it means sacrificing our passion and dreams… Don't go with the flow, but have a backup plan. Journalism is my safety net, even if I do intend to become a published author and write heartfelt books. Have a great New Year!
To missaw: As far as movies go, I haven't been to the cinema in a while… it actually makes me feel kind of sad. Problem is, I was too overworked by the end of the semester. Good news is I might be going to Argentina for a week or two on vacation, though; I sorely need a change of scenery, at least for a couple of days. No Aoshi/Misao this chapter and as far as the next goes, I don't know if I will be able to cram a bit of their dysfunctional look/look away relationship in, though Misao will most definitely be making an appearance, that I can guarantee. In spite of that, though, how did you feel about the K/K scene in this installment? Any tips? Thank you very much for digging the play – I was afraid not many would enjoy it. Season' Greetings and happy 2005!
To Ocean Fish: Happy New Year Pookie! Isn't it great? It's a new year and there is still a great deal of this story to go, not to say that you remain my most faithful reviewer yet! I hope you manage to update one of your stories soon but I know it takes time sometimes – I ought to know, it's been around four moths since I last updated. I am very happy to have you always stick by me; through thick or thin you are always there and I feel blessed to be able to start a New Year with you around. I wish only the best for you in 2005! Thank you for being you! How doth the majoring in history fair? How are well deserved vacations treating you? Tell me everything Pookie! I'm always here! Kisses and hugs to you and streamers and balloons too!
If I happened to forget anyone, I apologize profusely but I am short on time preparing for the New Year's Eve festivities. I wish you all a fantastic 2005. I feel blessed to have the support of each and every one of you; it is a true privilege. Season's Greetings and this is me, saying, till next time!