A/N: So. I am back. Christmas break is in the air so, I'm home. xD
First draft of this was written on Akane's birthday, so it is in her perspective. Don't ask why she's being paranoid; I'm inserting a newer her as we reach the newer chapters. Muhaha.
The first part is some kind of foreshadowing. Please don't be confused ^^'
[I haven't rechecked this. I'm sorry. T_T If you see anything, please.]
(If it would held explain, while writing I was listening to 'Sana Maulit Muli' by Gary V. o_o)
DISCLAIMER: Oh Togashi, you pwn us all.
OWC: 3,115
Chapter 29:
Not exactly Paranoia
Do you know that feeling when you walk across a wet, timid street, while or after it has rained pretty well, and wherever you step on, you cause the glassy water puddles to break, to make ripples from you, the center of the quake, breaking the tranquillity?
That feeling of guilt that you've broken their peace, that feeling that you should have watched your moves better, that feeling that you should have paid closer attention to what was happening around you so you would not have broken that peace, have you ever felt that?
I closed my eyes, the screen of the phone in my hands painted over with the words 'Number Busy.' I wasn't really expecting him to answer my call, not in a time like this, but I hoped—and there's nothing wrong with that, is it? I pressed a button and dropped the phone on the cold surface of the glass table. I pressed my warm cheek against its surface, feeling my hands shiver, not with the cold but with the fear.
I watched the glass pane that divided peace and war… break. I wondered if it was my fault, or his.
The sunlight pierced like sharp needles through the miniscule slits in the walls in the open windows, and I could hear the birds chirping outside. I sat on a small piece of wood that stood out from the walls, making some kind of window seat, assisted by a pillow. From the room I could smell the sweet aroma of the pastries that were, I bet, being served outside for the two little boys, and the two older ones. I wondered if I was the only one who hadn't come out of our respective rooms, and I wondered if they were looking for me.
Oh my god, Akane. You're overthinking things again, I scolded myself, slapping my forehead in a vain attempt to make myself sane. And with that I decided maybe I should get out of the room and be blessed with humanity. Maybe that would make me sane.
Standing up, I swept my blonde bangs off my face, holding them with my two fingers. Maybe I should get a haircut. I was aware of the fact that I was only procrastinating from the act of going outside, but what was the point of arguing? I looked around the room for a pair of scissors and found one, in the built-in bathroom's cabinet. The stainless steel blade glinted under the artificial light of the bulb. I gripped its fuchsia pink handles with strong hands and started to snip at the edge of my bangs, wondering if I was actually doing a good job at it.
When I thought I was pleased with it—or it looked at least slightly cleaner than the first try—I returned the scissors to the cabinet and clipped what was left with a bright blue hairclip that I had managed to find in my bag. I stared at my reflection in the mirror.
My mother used to tell me that I shouldn't take too much pride in what I see of myself in the mirror. She used to tell me: "Mirrors were objects whose only goal in life was to trick those who dare to look them straight in the eye. They show you what you want to see, not who you truly are. You see, mirrors come from a world of fantasy and trickery. Only you truly see what you are inside, after all. And their objective sat between deceiving and trying their best to not hurt the people they love."
I wondered what lies the mirror was telling me that morning.
I pulled at the edge of the loose white shirt that Aunt Mito had kindly lent me the previous night, running my fingers nervously through my already-long hair, trying to buy time. If anything, I didn't want to see Kurapika just yet. I felt like we ended on a bad note last night, and I wasn't excited to see the look on his face too soon again…
xxx
"I'll tell you when you're ready."
His eyes almost begged me to leave, and somewhere inside I felt like I had interrupted him from doing something important. I nibbled at my bottom lip, feeling really guilty inside. My hand, which had subconsciously managed to rest on his shoulder, slid off like an eel away from a slippery rock somewhere in the depths of the ocean. I nodded limply, regretfully. He smiled a 'thank-you' smile and I turned around, trying my hardest not to drag my feet against the sand.
I trudged back into the house, feeling really sorry for Kurapika, his situation, and mine, somehow. And even though I knew he was far from my hearing distance, I somehow could still hear him pray—the wind carrying his solemn, forsaken voice to the heavens to one he called Kirako, as he prayed, prayed ever so fervently—"Please, please… bring her back."
Xxx
I hadn't actually expected anything more than just the plain old boring bread for breakfast, because, well, I grew up to an environment that got used to having pastries for breakfast, and not rice. But this was definitely a different place from home, and I thought it would be a welcome experience.
Sure, there was bread—round little balls of flour, slightly crispy on the outside but soft like cotton on the inside. But the meals served with rice was much, much more than the bread. The rice served on the wooden table was fried with garlic and some salt most likely. There was a plate of dried fish on the table, served with some kind of dark sauce—is that soy sauce? And then there was the never-ending corned beef, and I bet that was the interesting smell I had noticed from the hallway on. There were also eggs served in the sunny-side up fashion, at least two for each person on the table.
I looked around to the people there. They all had looked more at home than usual. Killua sat right beside Gon, wearing only his camisole that was tinted with lavender, and his usual blue shorts. Gon wore some random white camisole with the sleeves torn at the edges, and some green shorts with turtle patterns on it. The two other roomies sat next to each other too—Leorio wore a blue polo with bright orange palm designs on it, and black and red striped shorts—are those boxers? Kurapika wore a loose orange-y shirt and some random bluish pants that got slightly baggy at the end.
"Akane-nee-san's awake now!" Gon's shrill voice filled the dining area, replacing the monotonous buzz of conversation with silence. I looked down to the floor in embarrassment. Gon should've known how much I hated being center stage.
"Hey," Killua greeted, and as I looked up I saw him flip his hair into place like he usually would, followed by a quick brushing with his fingers. "Look who woke up late."
I mildly glared at him, and then turned to walk to the empty seat behind him, the only seat left. I picked up the chopsticks with my right hand, murmuring an almost inaudible "Itadakimasu" under my breath as I started to eat, too.
"So how was your night, Akane?" Leorio asked with nonchalance, as if he was just asking to break the ice that I had not noticed wrapping around the dining area setting. He picked up a piece of the dried fish with his chopsticks and put it in his mouth, staring at me expectantly.
I chewed silently on the piece of the egg I had on my plate and swallowed it, trying to buy some time, and gather some composure while I was at it. "Wonderful," I said, smiling him the most deceptive smile I could put on. "I even dreamt of unicorns."
Never lie to yourself nor to anyone, my mother reminded in my head, but I shook it off. I know when to lie, and when to not.
"Unicorns?" Gon's voice again, and we all stared at him. "I dreamt of them too. There were five of them and they were flying over a Hunter Organization airship, puking rainbows as they went—and each one of them carried one of us, ain't that fun! And then there were glitters, so many glitter—"
"Oh, shut up, Gon!" Killua reprimanded him, driving a fist at Gon's shoulder. "Do you really think they would want to hear that stupid dream of yours?"
"But it has unicorns!" defended Gon, only making Killua sigh.
I laughed a little at the two bickering boys, and Killua stared questioningly at me. At first I didn't notice until I felt his hand brushing my forehead. I pulled back. "H-hey! What's up?"
"Shh," he said. "Stay still; what's this?" He pulled at my uneven bangs with his strong fingers, letting the clip I had put there to keep it in place fall into his other open hand, and I could only move forward to him to minimize the pain. "What the hell? Did you cut your bangs or something?"
I pulled my hair away from him, grabbing the clip and putting it back in place. "None of your business," I told him, putting out my tongue. "It was in the way, that's all."
He turned around from me and faced his food again. I thought he was ready to drop the topic at last, but apparently he wasn't. "Tch. To think you're a girl! I would've thought you would be able to keep pretty at least. Look at Kurapika. He's a dude and yet he can fix his hair better than you!"
I narrowed my eyes at him, and he only giggled as he shoved another mouthful of corned beef into his big, big mouth.
But going back to Kurapika… I stared at the said blond with suspicious eyes. He'd remained miraculously quiet, along with Mito-san. Mito-san I could understand, but what was with Kurapika? I stared at him longer than I should have, and then he looked up. I shot him a look that said, What's the problem with you? and he just went back to eating as if he did not even notice me.
What the hell? I wondered if he was thinking about last night. What exactly had I interrupted him doing, anyway? And who was the Kirako person he was talking about to the moon and the stars and the night sky?
I did not want to mess with him in his past life if he did not want me to, of course. I knew that he needed space and privacy and most of all respect. I knew where his grudge was bringing him. I somehow had a mental image on where his grudge will bring him in the end as well, and what will happen, and what his reaction will be.
I swept my hair back behind me and thought about how I would approach Kurapika now. I knew that most likely Gon and Killua would stick to each other now, and I knew that Leorio would be going off to take his Medical examinations. I couldn't go back home, not after all the distance I've crossed to get here. I thought of going with Kurapika and training with him, asking about what he knew—just to assure myself with that sense of belongingness—and then still looking for… what I had to look for, but it wasn't that simple. Whatever you may call what happened last night set up an ice-cold and steel or probably rock-hard barrier of some sort between the two of us, and I had a feeling that talking to him about anything would be harder than how it was before.
I twiddled with my chopsticks, spinning them with my fingers like one would do with a pen, obviously running low of appetite. I put it down on the ceramic, bamboo-shaped holder, silent. My mind was wandering to last night, yet again like it had done earlier, and I needed to distract myself. I waited for all of us to finish, and then we went to the kitchen to clean the dishes.
I took my place behind the sink, Mito-san thanking me from the dining area, turning the faucet on. It went wild like a waterfall, and it hurt as it met the skin in my hands. I put the plates underneath its whip and ran the yellow sponge across their surfaces, turning them white what with the bubbly suds, my mind going blank.
"Akane," Killua said, handing me another stacks of four or so plates, "Are you sure you're okay?"
I nodded to him, getting the plates and running them under the faucet again. "Yeah, I'm perfectly fine. There is not a single problem in the world," I told him, smiling generously as I ran the sponge again, feeling my fingers grow numb with the lies.
"Sure?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at me, blue eyes glinting, almost interrogating in their own little ways. "I can help you, you know."
"I'm fine," I told him again, shooing him away with one wet hand so that I am sure he steps back. "Don't worry about me. Gon must be looking for you."
And just like I told him, Gon's voice again—it had become some kind of 'sound of the morning'—"KILLUA!"
Killua groaned, pocketing his hands in his blue shorts. "Oh Gon, for crying out loud!" he said, voice sounding groggy. "I'm coming, I'm coming! Geez." He went out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with the faucet again.
I ran the plates under the water one final time to rinse off the soap, dwelling in the somehow 'ksssssshhhhhhh' sound of the water meeting the steel sink as it cleaned the soap off. Somehow it was therapy, a new buzz to the sound of my brain wracking me off with all the overthinking thoughts. One plate, two plates, three. This time, a glass, two forks and three spoons—where is the other fork? Everything, in that little moment, became a routine.
The door to the kitchen opened again, with a slight creak this time, but I did not bother to check who it is. Whoever that person was stayed by the door as I finished what was left of the plates and put them in the rack to dry in the air. I turned my head around—
"Kurapika?" my eyes widened in surprise. "Oh—oh. Are there any more plates?" He shook his head no, still leaning on the wall. "Oh—okay. I'll go now." Before I could even move a step away from the sink, he shook his head.
"Wait—no, Akane." He told me, and his sole earring glinting in the sunlight that passed through the windows. "Don't leave. Wait."
I stood still in my spot, suddenly not knowing what to do. "O—okay…" I murmured. "Why, w—what's up?"
He looked at me, seriousness in his deep blue eyes. "Gon and Killua are going to leave in a while; they're going to have to train. Leorio's going to take his medical exam back in his place," he said, and then breathed a long, deep breath. "Where do you plan on going?"
I gulped whatever saliva I had in my mouth, trying to call on the courage that had decided to rest somewhere in my body—my hands, perhaps? "Definitely not back home," I told him, 'cause I was sure that, well, that was the only thing I was sure of. He nodded, expecting a continuation to my response. I looked up at the ceiling and thought and thought and thought—overthinking again—should I?
"I actually planned on tagging along," I told him, the words barely escaping my lips. "I—I mean if you don't mind."
He shook his head no, standing up from the wall. "No, that's fine," he told me. "I can tell, the kids are leaving in a while. We might as well follow them off the airport. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, sure," I told him. He walked out of the room and I stood there, heart hammering in my chest, and I didn't know what to do.
What the hell did I just sign myself into?
The moonlight pierced through the empty windows of the room. Mito-san hasn't returned to the room we shared yet, so I sat there alone to think about life.
I had turned off the lights in the room, and as I leaned on the cold wall of the room, buried to the neck with the thick comforter, I watched the fireflies outside dance a mating dance to each other, fluttering as they went. They formed indistinct shapes, shapes of what might have been a dream to someone, shapes of something that has no name.
The song of the night wind was sending me to sleep, murmuring hushed tones of dreams and paradise to my tired ear, trying its best to shut my eyes to get myself some (hopefully not eternal) rest. My eyelids were giving up, they were losing the battle, but I did my best. I still had time—I could still think, think before I lose this day to oblivion.
From the other room, I could hear the kids laughing or probably arguing about something so trivial again. I can hear Gon's shrill giggling, and Killua shouting something at him, only to be followed by a boisterous laughter. And then, silence, when Mito-san knocked harshly against their door. Slight giggling again, but this time, it was more restrained. In the other room where Leorio and Kurapika stayed was silent, and I wondered what they were doing. Sleeping, perhaps?
The door of the room opened, and as quickly as I could, I ducked into lying position on the futon. "Oh," I heard Mito-san say. "She's asleep already." I heard something hard be placed against the wooden table by the door—a glass of milk probably—before she shuffled into her futon as she closed the door. I dug myself a hole deeper into the sheets, giving away to the lull of the night air, still singing an opera.
Tomorrow would be another day. Tomorrow Kurapika and I would go to the airport with Leorio, Gon, and Killua, and we would separate. Tomorrow, Kurapika would promise that, indeed, he would tell me when he deemed me ready—before it was too late. Tomorrow, the cool air of the airship would be greeting us again, and tomorrow everything would be so much better.
Tomorrow, I said, dropping the pen I clutched in my hand, together with a small notebook with Chinese threads hanging by the side. Tomorrow, I promised, a promise that words could not fortify.
Tomorrow, I said. Tomorrow would be the beginning.
