Lyricism, Pt 2

Lyricism, n: Music that expresses direct personal emotion, especially in the manner of a song.

Dawn sluggishly stirred beyond the window of Koushiro's guest room. He sat at the desk, already showered and dressed, squeezing in work before Eimi woke. These small, quiet hours, the window where the world was still, had always appealed to him.

Koushiro reached for the coffee mug at his elbow. His mobile rang, and he grabbed it with his other hand. "Moshi moshi. Izumi speaking."

"Hey! I'm glad you picked up!" Koushiro nearly spat coffee all over his laptop. Sputtering, he sat the mug down and pressed his fingers to his lips, holding in the hot liquid.

"Uh, you okay?" Mimi asked. Koushiro rubbed his aching forehead. While he had hoped to hear from Mimi someday, the sudden call caught him off guard. How was he supposed to behave?

"I, uh, I'm fine," he stammered. "And you?"

There was a pause, a rarity from Mimi. "Hm. Thisis a little awkward, isn't it?"

Though he was overwhelmed, Koushiro couldn't help cracking a smile. "I didn't think you knew the meaning of the word."

Her sweet, bell-like laugh tore at his heart. How long had it been since he heard it last? "Are you already sassing me? I called to play nice, you know!"

"Forgive me." The warmth of his voice surprised him. He could withstand a bit of awkwardness in return for hearing from someone he cared for- someone he had feared was lost to him. "It's good to speak with you."

"I waited for a while, since you said you needed time. And… I guess I did, too." Mimi cleared her throat, another rare display of nerves. Was it possible that she was as anxious about losing whatever they could salvage of their relationship as he was?

"Um… Eimi-chan and I have been texting. She said you were… having trouble. Then she stopped texting, and Sora-chan told me that Eimi-chan was sick, and that you're staying with her to help. What's going on? Is she okay? Are you okay?"

Koushiro hesitated, unsure of where to begin, or even of what Mimi was asking, exactly. "I'm doing well, thank you. That wasn't the case when… After the fashion show, however." He had no idea how much Mimi knew, nor how much contact she had with Eimi. He held his breath, hoping she wouldn't ask for details.

Mimi hesitated, then made an uncertain humming sound. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Koushiro blinked, surprised by Mimi's sudden tact. Her social skills were strong, but she had always been frank and willful with him. Was her restraint a sign of their shifted relationship? "No. I'm doing well, now."

"That's good. But what about Eimi-chan? Sora-chan made it sound… bad. Something about sepsis?"

Koushiro's front teeth bit deep into his lower lip. With effort, he pushed back memories of Eimi tethered to life by humming, beeping machines. "It was terrible. Initially, the doctors weren't sure if she would…"

The words stopped, refusing to advance. Koushiro cleared his throat roughly. "There won't be any permanent damage, but the recovery period has been… It's been such a struggle for her."

"That's awful…" Mimi's voice seemed thick, wet. "How is she now? Is there anything I can do?"

Koushiro tensed. Talking to Mimi was strange, but welcome. Seeing her in person if she decided to visit might be more difficult. Still, it wasn't up to him to decide who could and couldn't approach Eimi. "Her health has improved, although she still has difficulties. If you'd like, I'll ask her if you can help."

"Do you think she'd mind if I text again?" Mimi asked. "When Sora-chan told me that she wasn't responding because she was hospitalized, I backed off."

"I can't say for sure, but personally, I think it would help her."

"I will, then."

A pause followed, and Koushiro fumbled to fill it. "Ah- how are you doing?"

That familiar animation brightened her tone, causing an ache deep in Koushiro's chest. If he turned off his memory and focused on nothing but Mimi's voice, it was almost like their old phone calls, those eager soliloquies about modeling and traveling. "It was rough at first, but then, everything took off! I did some modeling in Greece, it's so gorgeous there! And guess what! A few weeks ago, Madame Bellerose approached me about modeling for her. I still can't believe it!"

And suddenly, a weight Koushiro hadn't been aware of carrying slid from his shoulders. He was convinced that he had ruined Mimi's career, or at least soured her chances of working with her favorite designer. But, as Yamato had suggested, that damage was temporary. "That's amazing. I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks. That means a lot." The words were spoken warmly, but as the pause after them wore on, Koushiro sensed that her mood was shifting.

"Um, there's one more thing. I don't know if you're following my career or not- you don't have to say- but just in case, I wanted to tell you before it got out some other way…"

An odd sensation overcame Koushiro. In a rare moment of social aplomb, he guessed what was coming. While he was genuinely glad to hear that her career was flourishing, he wasn't sure if he was ready to hear this.

"I'm dating Desmond," she finished, and Koushiro nodded, hypothesis confirmed.

Because it seemed like a response was expected, he said, "I see." And he did. Desmond and Mimi were both active people who loved to travel, who threw themselves at the world with confidence and joy. He saw firsthand how well they worked together as a model and photographer. Desmond's attraction was obvious from the start, but Koushiro hadn't thought much of it until their relationship began to fray. After all, if he was jealous of every man who was interested in Mimi, he wouldn't have had time for anything else.

The logic was straightforward, but his emotional response was not- a recent trend that grew more alarming by the day. "Um… I wish you the best, but… I hope you don't mind if we drop that topic."

"I didn't say it to hurt you," Mimi began.

"I know. And, for what it's worth, I think… You two seem… compatible." Was telling an ex about your love life a typical thing? Koushiro had no clue what the etiquette was here. All he knew was that he didn't want to continue this discussion.

"Sorry," Mimi sighed. "Is this worse? I thought it would be better to hear it from me than from a magazine or something, but… Well, anyway. You're helping Eimi-chan now, right? How is that going?"

Koushiro wasn't sure if Mimi was connecting her love life with him and Eimi on purpose, or if she was scrambling for a new topic. Either way, he was suddenly flustered. "I wish I could help her more, but things are going well. Actually… I've been wanting to thank you for sending Eimi-san to me when you did. It was kind of you to think of me, even after…"

"Well… I was worried. I'm glad you're okay now. And I wish Eimi-chan didn't get sick, but I am glad that you're not alone."

Koushiro blinked, struck by the truth of that. After the breakup, he felt so horribly lonesome. But he had his parents, his friends, and now… Maybe he still had a chance of friendship with Mimi.

"Me, too," he breathed. There was too much on his mind, too much he was feeling. "Ah, Mimi-san… Would you mind if I returned to work? There's a deadline…"

Mimi released a huff of laughter. "That might be a good idea. Can I call you again in a while?"

Koushiro smiled. "I'll look forward to it."

They said their goodbyes, and Koushiro placed the phone on his desk. He was still in a daze when it rang again. Startled, he picked it up by instinct, and found himself talking to the head of his school's CS department, dealing with the day's next surprise.

XXX

Eimi was dressing when Koushiro knocked on her bedroom door. "Hold on," she called, shoving a shirt over her head. He entered with her permission, and she didn't realize she was smiling until that smile faltered. A glance at his knit brow was all she needed to recognize trouble. "What's wrong?"

Koushiro's eyes widened. "Ah- You can tell?" She nodded, and he slid past her and sat on the edge of her bed. Although the desire to pace itched in her legs, Eimi sat beside him.

His fingers intertwined between his knees. "I received two phone calls while you were sleeping. One was from work. The other…"

Anxiety crept up his arms and back, as visible as thorned vines. Alarmed, Eimi grabbed his knee. "Koushiro-kun?"

His lips jerked into a wry smile. "I'm fine. I suppose I wasn't prepared for a call from Mimi-san."

That vine of tension spread to Eimi and constricted. "O-oh," she stammered. "How do you feel?"

His gaze went unfocused as he considered. "I'm… not sure. I'm grateful to hear from her. Although we mentioned maintaining a friendship when we broke up, I admit that I wasn't sure it would happen."

A rough ache in her fingertips alerted Eimi that her grip had increased. She forced her hand to relax, but didn't- couldn't- release him. Koushiro seemed unsure about Mimi contacting him again, but Eimi knew all along that she would. If Mimi didn't care about him, then she wouldn't have sent her to check on him after the breakup. The danger that had whispered in the back of her mind for months became a violent roar:

What if they started dating again, or fell into an in-between, like she had with Jyou?

She had to speak, to reassure, but her throat was pinched tight. Eimi nodded, heart sore and miserable, hoping that he would continue unprompted.

He raked a hand through his hair. "But… It's more complicated than I anticipated. I don't know how I feel. Is this residual attachment? Leftover resentment?"

Although she wasn't sure if he would welcome touch, Eimi slid closer and placed a hand on his back. His muscles were tight and stiff. "Have you met Mimi-san's photographer?" he asked the floor.

Eimi blinked, startled by his change in tone. That lost quality was gone, replaced by something closer to bitterness. "Um- Do you mean Desmond?" she asked, deciding against an honorific for an English speaker. "I've never met him, but Tachikawa-san mentioned him."

His eyes pinched shut. "He and Mimi-san are dating."

"O-oh." Relief fizzed from the pit of her stomach, dissolving her tension. It was exquisite, this sudden release from fear- until she remembered what it might cost him.

"Oh, Koushiro-kun," she murmured. "Are you alright?"

"I… don't know." His back jerked with a shallow, strained laugh. "I wasn't under any illusion that we would start dating again. I want her to be happy, truly. It shouldn't hurt to know that she's moved on. And yet…"

Eimi hesitated, unsure of what to say. Was it in bad taste for Mimi to call and tell Koushiro about her love life? Jyou rarely mentioned his, but then… He wasn't famous. One way or another, Koushiro would have found out. Perhaps hearing it directly was kinder. "It must be a lot to take in," she said at last.

"I suppose it is… Although it shouldn't be. He's been interested in her for as long as I've known him. Their lifestyles and energy levels are complimentary. And he'll fit into her circles."

Gently, Eimi leaned into him, offering physical comfort in lieu of the verbal assurances she couldn't give. To her surprise, he tilted into her, deepening the contact, relaxing just a little. "Part of me still sees the breakup as my failure. Despite my best efforts, I didn't belong in Mimi-san's world. And to know that someone effortlessly stepped into the role I couldn't fill…"

"Hey. Look at me." Eimi forced a smile and hoped it didn't look too sad. The thought of Koushiro falling into despair again was more than she could bear, and the ache in his eyes was too familiar. She took a deep breath and reached into herself, groping for strength that she wasn't sure she'd find.

"I'm not saying relationships are easy. But if you come into one trying to fit a mold, struggling to live a life that isn't suited to you… Would you want to succeed at that?"

She watched his russet eyelashes bounce with a few blinks. "You're right." He straightened, no longer leaning on her. She wished he would stay, but the clarity returning to his expression was more than enough recompense. "I need to live the life that will fulfill me."

Eimi nodded, but suddenly, it was hard to look at him. She still wasn't sure what to do about her love for him. She wanted to believe that, if she built the life she wanted, everything would fall into place. But even if she managed to tackle that incredible task, how would she meld her ideal life with his?

How did two planets align on one orbit?

"Neither of you failed," she said gently. "You both just needed something different."

"You're so kind," Koushiro murmured. "Thank you. It's difficult, but I'll try not to brood over this."

Maybe I should try that, too. With effort, she smothered a wry grin. "Let me know if you're feeling down."

His lip twitched, then dipped into a frown. "That reminds me… I believe I mentioned that the other call was from work."

Eimi resisted the urge to grab his knee again. Something about his expression, the deep furrow in his brow, apologetic and pained, warned her of what was coming. "Did something come up?"

His gaze fell from hers. "I… I'm afraid so. My university is holding a week-long event for high schoolers on their summer break who are interested in our CS department. I wasn't originally slated to participate, but someone had a family emergency. I'm not clear on exactly what will be needed, but they want me close by for the week to assist."

Don't panic. Anxious fear was louder than her repeated command for calm, and Eimi stared at him, mute and wide-eyed. Koushiro sucked a breath through his teeth and slid closer.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could stay, but I can't refuse my superiors. But it's only a week; I'll return as soon as I'm able."

The reassurance that he wanted to return soothed the worst of her nerves, and Eimi calmed enough to notice that he was awkwardly patting her back. A small grin touched her lips. "I understand. Don't worry about me. I'm well enough to take care of myself."

He scowled, then tried to straighten his lips with obvious effort. "I don't mean to argue, but… Are you sure? Is there anything I can do to make things easier for you while I'm away?"

A warm, soft feeling spread through her chest. Without thinking, Eimi dropped her head on his shoulder. "You're sweet," she murmured. Koushiro stiffened, but didn't move away.

He cleared his throat noisily. "I, I just want to be sure that you're comfortable."

"That's what I mean." That patting picked up tempo, and Eimi smothered a laugh. "Maybe we could prep meals together while you're still here?"

Their conversation shifted to cooking, but Eimi was only half listening. Although it was sad to see him leave, his desire to return nourished her heart. And to be so cared for by someone who, only a few weeks ago, had difficulty remembering to eat…

She tipped her head against his shoulder, hiding flushing cheeks and a dopey smile.

XXX

Koushiro stood in Eimi's foyer, hovering near the doorway. His leather backpack, a gift from Mimi, was slung over his shoulders, and his rolling suitcase stood beside him. All he had to do was say goodbye and drive home.

Yet here he was, patting Aegis's head and initiating pointless smalltalk. "Are you sure you'll be alright?" he asked, marking approximately the tenth repetition. Her grin suggested that she was keeping count, too.

"I'm fine. Thanks to you, I've come a long way."

Despite the reassurance, Koushiro's brow pinched in the middle, crowding with worry lines. "Please, don't push too hard. Remember to rest. If you need anything, don't hesitate to contact me."

"Don't worry." She paused, and her gaze fell from his face to the floor as an odd shyness overwhelmed her expression. "Although…"

Koushiro reached for her. As if the motion were an invitation, she grasped his hand and moved in closer. "Is something wrong?"

Eimi fussed with her hair, hooking a lock behind her ear. "W-well… I just, after spending so much time with you… It might get lonely."

He wasn't sure when their fingers interlocked, nor why he stepped away from the door. He was too focused on Eimi, and on his strange, uncomfortable mix of emotions, to bother with such questions.

Eimi's foot scuffed along the hardwood. "I'm sorry. Am I being ridiculous?"

Koushiro offered a wan smile. "You wouldn't have a chance if I left instead of dithering in your foyer."

Her head rose, offering a view of her giggling face. His smile grew, and somehow, he found himself standing even closer to her. He was feeling so much- happiness in her laughter, unwillingness to leave, a trace of loneliness already forming, and a magnetic pull he didn't understand- but somehow, all of that seemed far away when she was so near.

His momentary lapse of thought ended as her expression shifted towards wistful. "I wish you could stay."

"It's only a week." Oddly, Koushiro had the feeling that he was reassuring himself as much as her. "I'll be back after the event."

She smiled, but her grip on his hand tightened. The absurdity of the situation struck Koushiro anew. Returning to his apartment should have been a welcome break from caretaking, an escape back to his normal life. Why couldn't he just say goodbye and leave, like a normal person?

"Alright. Drive safe." The waver in her voice was probably related to her illness, not her emotions, but it tugged at him, regardless. And suddenly, his arms were around her, pulling her in.

There was a moment of mutual shock, with stiffness on both sides. She released a shaky breath by his ear, a vulnerable, unsteady sound. Even as his hold on her tightened, he wondered, What am I doing?

Slowly, uncertainly, her hands rose, wrapping around him, echoing his posture. When he did nothing- and really, he was too confused by his own behavior to take action- she leaned into him, molding their bodies together. Her head fell on his shoulder as she relaxed.

What am I doing?

His brain, that old and faithful friend, labored to respond. Neurons pulsed, a lightening storm of signals, but all they produced was heat and a frazzled sense of impotent bewilderment. Anxiety wasn't sufficient explanation for his accelerated heartbeat.

What's happening? He held her even tighter, seeking comfort from the signals screaming in his mind. The duration of a normal hug had long since passed, and he told himself to let go and flee before his body temperature spiked to boiling.

She sighed, a blissful sound that sent ripples down his spine with far more effectiveness than his brain's feeble synapsing. Koushiro swallowed hard. He couldn't let go, didn't even want to. She's so fond of me…

He stroked her hair, lightly pushing her into him. The scent of her perfume, floral and sweet, wafted from her warming skin. Before he could think better of it, he eased towards the curve of her neck and inhaled. Did she always wear perfume? How had he missed that before?

"Thank you."

Koushiro eased back enough to look at Eimi, but her face was nuzzled into his shoulder. "F-for what?"

"Everything."

His heart stumbled, knocked off beat by a single word. He cleared his throat, fearing what strange sounds might leak out if he risked speech. Eimi finally shifted away from him, revealing flushed cheeks and watery eyes. Her lips parted, drawing his gaze, and a command whispered through his brain, soft, but firm:

Kiss her.

Koushiro nearly tripped on his heels as he stepped back. A pulsing ball of lava churned in his chest, a sudden and unfortunate substitute for his heart. He reached for his suitcase handle, frantic for escape, and missed on the first few passes. Eimi tipped her head and smiled, and Koushiro felt his stomach dissolving, as if its digestive acid had leaked through its lining.

In a storm of confusion, a flash of instinct struck like lightening: If he gave in to whatever madness gripped him now and kissed Eimi, he wouldn't be able to leave. Not now, not an hour from now, not today, perhaps not tomorrow. If he was going to report to work on time, there was only one choice.

Koushiro pivoted towards the door, jerking like a marionette controlled by a novice puppeteer. "T-take care," he stuttered, not knowing what he said. "Goodbye."

"Goodbye." Koushiro possessed enough composure to sense that his departure was too brusque, but not enough to do anything about it. He yanked his suitcase and rolled it across the porch. It pulled his body down when he dragged it over the top stair without prepping to lift it, and he thought he heard a half-swallowed giggle from the doorway.

Eimi was probably waving, but Koushiro couldn't look back. He fled to her garage, where his compact car was parked, grateful for the screen of bushes that hid it from the house. He lifted the garage door while his fingers fumbled for the keys in his pocket. He cursed when they caught in the fabric.

Finally, he unlocked the car and collapsed onto the driver's seat. His trembling legs couldn't work the pedals, so he leaned against the wheel, breathing like an overtaxed athlete.

What the hell was that? Groaning, Koushiro rubbed his temples. As much as he wanted to deny what he had felt while embracing Eimi, those emotions still lingered. Lying to himself was foolishness he couldn't afford, not when his friendship with her could be threatened.

The back of his skull hit the headrest with a dull thud. He knew things had changed between them these last few weeks, subtle shifts as the suggestion of her romantic interest took root. But this, whatever it was… He was hopelessly unprepared for it.

Koushiro closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his aching heart. Apparently, an invitation from him, a simple hug, was all she needed to come close. Her happy sigh replayed in his brain, and his fingers dug into his chest. Admitting to himself that someone adored him went against his nature, but the evidence was too great to ignore.

And if Eimi-san wants me… A frazzled, slightly demented laugh fizzled from his lips. His fear was as great as his excitement and stronger than his budding desire, but the existence of all three was undeniable.

Taichi-san mentioned that Eimi-san's dream is to have a partner. If Yamato-san is correct, if I understood Jyou's hints, if my own suspicions are true, then…

I am Eimi-san's dream.

The earth's gravitational pull seemed to double, drawing his shoulders closer to the ground. It was so much pressure, far more than he could bear. Why couldn't Eimi's dreams involve someone else, anyone else? Jyou, Taichi, someone stronger, someone more socially able, anybody but him. But then, when he imagined a rival appearing, someone drawing Eimi's affection and attention away…

A sick, panicky sensation shuddered over him. As inexplicable and awkward as it would be, he longed to return to the house and ensure that he hadn't already lost something precious.

Koushiro sat there for some time, trying in vain to make sense of everything. When it occurred to him that Eimi would notice if his car never left, he shook his head and started the ignition. Whatever was happening, he wasn't going to get anywhere in her garage. He had a whole week ahead of him to unravel this.

As he drove away, he beat back the voice whispering that a week wasn't nearly enough time to deal with so great an upheaval.

XXX

Eimi closed her front door and slumped against it. By degrees, her back slid down, until she landed on the hardwood floor. Aegis sat beside her, placing himself in prime petting position. Eimi obliged, hands working while her mind imploded.

She had no way of knowing what Koushiro was thinking while they embraced, but she knew he had never initiated contact like that between them before. She had felt his arms tighten around her, pulling her in until his galloping heartbeat crashed into her body. She saw the rush of crimson on his face, heard him inhaling near her neck. And though she couldn't be sure, she suspected that his abrupt departure was panic induced. A strange smile curled her lips. Panicking over little old me?

Eimi sat there until her butt numbed, analyzing, thinking, remembering. By the time she stood, leaning into the door for support, something warm and sweet had slipped into her heart.

For the first time in months, Eimi had hope.