"We bury things so deep we no longer remember there was anything to bury. Our bodies remember. Our neurotic states remember. But we don't."
~Jeanette Winterson~
"Ugh, so tired..." Yura and Kyouya finally arrived at their hotel in Paris late into the next night.
Though she tried to relax on the flight and get some sleep, Yura ended up staying awake the whole flight due to her phobia. So now she could barely see straight much less remain conscious. All she wanted to do at the moment was plop down on the bed and sleep for two days.
But she argued with her brain that she needed a shower before that. Her brain argued back that she could take a shower tomorrow. She pointed out to her brain that she was sweaty and smelled like airplane peanuts (which by-the-way she hates) and the smell would only intensify by morning. The very thought brought about a shudder and she began to feel a little more awake. She had won. Yura headed towards her suitcase that Kyouya had insisted on carrying for her, probably because she looked like she was going to pass out at any moment. The newlywed searched the bag for her bath items soap, toothbrush, towels, and pajamas.
Only much to her loathing there's was nothing to sleep in except skimpy silk nightgowns, and robes. So she searched through Kyouya's luggage as he was in the kitchen and took one of his shirts. She rummaged more through hers again to find some cargo shorts. They were, well short, but she resolved that they would have to do for now. She scrawled down a quick note to herself that she needed to go shopping for clothes to sleep in. Then she caught a sight of a mini skirt and tiny polo shirt in her suitcase. Make that a whole wardrobe for the remainder of the honeymoon.
She staggered into the bathroom, and locked the door suddenly becoming only too aware that Kyouya just entered the bedroom. She undressed and climbed in for a quick shower, only the hot water on her stiff muscles, from sitting so long, felt so good she stayed in longer than expected. She noted she must really be exhausted seeing as she was dozing off while getting dress. She came out of the bathroom, steam pouring out behind her, rubbing her eyes in an attempt to prevail until she at least reached the bed.
Yura only half registered Kyouya passing by her mumbling something about her "being such a girl and taking two years just to shower" and only responded by giving him a weak hit on the arm. The tired young woman flopped down on the bed, and was asleep before she could even cover herself.
Yura woke up the next morning to the sun practically trying blind her through her eyelids. She could only groan, putting her hand over eyes in futile attempt to slip back into sub-consciousness.
'Why me?'she thought groggily as she decided to just get up and close the curtains.
Prior to realizing she couldn't turn. Or really move for that matter. She opened eyes to look down to see Kyouya clutched unto her by the waist, and currently using her chest for a pillow.
Her first thought and reflex, which she had to refrain from, was to hit him, but she reasoned that they were married. So she guessed it was okay. The other thought was that Kyouya liked to cuddle. She almost giggled at that. Almost. The next was finding a way to pry him off her person without evoking his "Low Blood Pressure Demon" wrath. She definitely couldn't go get coffee seeing she was trapped and all. So she tried getting his grip from her waist; Kyouya usually slept like a log. She managed to get his right hand off after a few minutes and was working on his left when she suddenly felt something resound in her chest. It took a few seconds for it to be understood that Kyouya was growling. She sighed, she hadn't meant to wake him up, but since he was already awake….
"Senpai, do you think you could let me go? I can't sleep with the sun in my face, and need to close the curtains." she said quietly, massaging his scalp as she talked in way to soothe and persuade him.
Now she could hear him making a sound akin to purring.
'He such a feline.' the thought made her smile.
"You have fifteen seconds." was the mumbled reply as she felt his iron grip loosened from her.
Yura dashed for curtains, not because of Kyouya's reply but she knew the more she stood up the more awake she'd get, and drew them close; promptly darkening the room to comfortable sleeping conditions before sliding back into bed, and allowing Kyouya to latch onto her like a leech again.
"You are such a light sleeper." she heard Kyouya grumble as he settled back into her chest, and she briefly wondered how he breathed with his face like that.
"I know. I also know you sleep like the dead." she responded cheerfully as she once again began massaging his scalp. All she got was grunt of agreement before she felt his breathing even out, after while she, gladly, slipped into sleep as well.
Surprisingly, the moment Kyouya woke up, he realized his "pillow" was gone. He opened his eyes to his head on a real one, and the other side of the bed empty. The few minutes after waking up were spent trying to decide whether or not the day before and earlier had been a dream. The scent stuck on the pillow his head resided on gave him his answer. After a few more minutes he got up and shuffled his way to the bathroom.
He found Yura in the kitchen. She was up on the counter on her knees looking for something with slight haste. He was a bit surprised when, getting closer, he noticed Yura was wearing one of his shirts and seemingly nothing under it. He went up nonetheless, and simply watched her from a breakfast bar seat. She seem to find whatever she was looking for and jumped down, giving a sight that, underneath, she was actually wearing shorts. Black ones with pockets that were extremely...fitted. He pushed up his glasses. She turned with a satisfied expression, but nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw him sitting down.
"H-how long have you been there?" she looked at him, worried.
He shrugged.
"Not long."
She simply gave him a long suspicious glance before heading over to the pot on the stove and throwing in the seasoning she had found in the cupboard.
"D-did you sleep well?" she asked a bit unnerved with him behind her. She didn't like people to watch her while she cooked, not even her brother.
"I did. That is, until you left." Kyouya stated matter-of-fact, smiling in quiet amusement when he saw Yura nearly dropped the pot lid she was holding. She gulped.
"I-is that so?"
He raised his eyebrow, got up and walked over to her. She turned around from putting away the seasoning on the first shelf just in time to stop with her back to the cupboard. While it didn't seem so to him, Yura thought he was too close. Much too close.
"Is something wrong?"
She shook her head. "No, not really..." she mumbled, not looking at him. He glared a bit before taking her face in his hands and turning it a little too forcefully for Yura's liking. Annoyance quickly dominated nervousness. She swatted his hand away and gave him look that said if he liked his hand attached to his wrist, he would refrain from doing that again. To add validity to the warning, she took out a large knife and began cutting up the vegetables she had taken out of the fridge. Kyouya, not scared in the least at her silent threat, despite seeing how well she handled the utensil, simply went back to the bedroom to get his laptop. Eventually Yura had finished cooking up the first meal of the day (which was lunch) and called him to the table. While they were eating, Kyouya decided it was time to tell her the surprise Tamaki had nearly let slip out of his mouth at the reception.
"Yura?"
"Hm?" she raised her eyes from the plate, her mouth full of food.
"How would like to have dinner at the Eiffel tower tonight?"
Her eyes widen greatly and she seemed to gasp, nearly choking on her food. She managed to stop it, beat her chest and drank a glass of water to make sure it all went down the right pipe. She let out a sigh of relief before staring at him in amazement.
"Dinner?"
He nodded.
"At THE Eiffel tower?"
"Yes."
"You're not screwing with me are you?"
Kyouya gave her look.
Her face in turn broke into a smile.
"Can I bring my camera?"
He sighed.
"Yes Yura, you can bring your camera."
Her smile grew even wider before she went back to her meal, extremely giddy. Kyouya did the same while shaking his head at his wife's antics. The fork froze halfway to his mouth.
His wife...
He found himself looking back up at her. She noticed this after awhile.
"What is it?"
He shook his head.
"Nothing."
"Remind me again why I'm wearing this?"
Kyouya turned to her from fixing his tie. Yura was looking at herself in the full-length mirror of the bathroom at the little black dress the twins had packed in the suitcase for her. It was a one-strap going over her shoulder with a sweet heart neckline over her small bust. The fabric was ruffled and was made to hug her pear-shaped body.
However, he questioned if the twins purposely made it so short. He watched as she tried to pull it down closer to her knees, only for it slink back up as she walked. She gave a frustrated huff, pulling it down again. Now ready, he came over and taking up the clutch that went with the dress.
"You look fine."
"Easy for you to say, you get to wear comfortable clothes at least." She practically snatched the bag out his hand and walked off, Kyouya not minding her gruffness.
Kyouya could only shake his head at her in a mixture of diversion, disbelief, and slight empathy as he watched her look out the limo's window. He tried not to dwell on the fact that Yura really had been isolated long as a child for her to be so dumbfounded at the sights.
When they finally arrived at the Eiffel Tower, she nearly broke her neck to gaze at the top from where they were. Though she wasn't as bad as in the car, curiosity and amazement still shone through her eyes. Their table was further in the back of the restaurant in the tower. It was right where she could observe the view comfortably without feeling the dismay of being too close to the edge. Kyouya smiled with satisfaction as Yura took in all the scenery.
She took pictures, but discreetly. She also didn't seem bothered by the fact that she had talk to Kyouya instead of the waiters about her order due to her not knowing a lick of French. Their dinner done, they were eating their dessert, Yura a red velvet cake and Kyouya tiramisu. When they were brought to the table, she looked at his dish with puerile curiosity, slightly inclining her head to get a better view.
"Is that good?"
He gazed down at his dessert then back at her.
"Depends on what you consider good."
She nodded absentmindedly, but continued to openly stare.
"Would like to try it?"
She nodded. He was going to slide his plate over to her when, but instead cut a generous piece onto his fork and held it out to her. Without a bit of hesitation, Yura leaned over, they were close enough so it didn't seem uncivil, and took the piece he offered. His eyes went from the fork to her lips to eyes, which were closed in contentment. Yura settled back in her chair, giving a slight moan at savoring the food, before taking up her wine to wash it down. Suddenly, the tiramisu wasn't appetizing to him anymore. But his face remained passive as she open her eyes and smiled.
"It's delicious."
He handed her the plate with rest of it, scarcely touched by him. She blinked.
"You don't want it?"
He shook his head.
"Are you sure?"
He nodded.
She looked at him a while longer, before shrugging and taking another bite with her own fork. The same look came over her face once again.
The young woman finished off both desserts, her glass of wine, and was a bit disconcerted to see the wine bottle that had been put next to them was empty and that Kyouya was downing the last bit of it from his glass. During the time she ate, Kyouya had made the second bottle of French wine his dessert. The waiter, almost as if on cue, brought another one and filled both their glasses. Now, as Kyouya was sipping his glass, did it occur to him that Yura looked...torpid, her eyes looked glazed and she seemed to be suppressing hiccups. It was then he remembered the tiramisu was a dessert soak in dark rum and brandy.
Though tipsy himself, he was still better off than his now drunk wife. So after paying the bill (to be honest, he wasn't sure how many bills he put down, but the Maître-D looked satisfied and he really didn't care either way) he went over and pulled out Yura's chair. She stumbled but was over shadowed by him so it went unnoticed. He put her arm through his and let her rest her head on his shoulder giving the impression she was being affectionate, instead of leaning on him for support because she was unsteady from intoxication.
As they went back down to their limo, Kyouya couldn't help but wonder what the drinking age in France was. The alcohol was messing with his memory. He knew it was twenty-one in New York. It occurred to him then that had they been in Japan, where the legal drinking age is twenty, Kyouya might have been charged with getting an underage adolescent drunk, even if she was married.
He looked down on her. Suddenly she seemed much younger to him, her face a bit rounder, but he shook his head to clear it and reasoned it was the alcohol messing with his senses. They got in their limo and Kyouya raised the shade between the driver and the back. He looked over to see that Yura was still now, but had taken off her glasses and was leaning against the car door opposite to him.
They arrived at the hotel, and Kyouya was taken aback. First thing Yura did upon entering the suite was head for the kitchen and come back with an open bottle of wine which the hotel placed in their wine cooler. She drank straight from the bottle and with such relish that a trickle escaped the corner of her mouth and ran down her neck. Kyouya, who had only gotten off the jacket suit, tie, and shoes, went over to her and asked if she had told him before that she didn't drink.
"I don't." she responded, her words a bit slurred, "but I figured I gets drunk in only two occasionsh of my life. One ish my bachelorette party, which I didn't and the oder…wash either my recepshion or honey moon...I obvioushly couldn't get drunk on thish former s'do the latter is next best bet." Her hand gestures were greatly exaggerated and the hiccup in between her words made what she said hardly discernible, much less coherent.
Instead admonishing her like he planned, he took the bottle from her and put it to his lips, plopping down on the love seat next to her. He was sure it was the wine making her talk so, but he reasoned that she may have a point. Then again, the fact that he was agreeing with her might mean he was now drunk as well.
He shrugged and saw Yura coming back from the kitchen again, this time with two more bottles and two glasses. His liver was going to suffer greatly from this. Yura unsteadily handed him a glass and poured the wine to the brim, almost spilling it. He began emptying it immediately, not in sips but gulps, and chuckled a bit as he heard her mumble with a hiccup, "Here'sh to your healths ministrant spiritsh…" before downing her glass. Even drunk she was quoting from books she read.
She was a happy drunk. She laughed at anything and everything, from the fact that Kyouya was drunk too, down to observation that she had yet to change out of her clothes. Incidentally, there being only four bottles of wine in the cooler, they decided to go the bedroom with their remaining two bottles and drank on the bed, having random little snippets of conversation all the while. He downed yet another glass and took up the bottle to pour more only to find out it was empty. He let it drop back on the ground. He turned to see Yura giggling to herself, stirring the remaining wine she had in her glass with her finger. Her eyes met his, looked at his empty glass, the bottle next to her (which was also empty), and then back at him before offering her glass to him. He wavered, but eventually took it and downed it all before letting the glass roll off the bed and onto the floor with the bottle.
He was drunk. Very drunk. He couldn't remember ever getting this drunk in his life. Yet he felt...calm. Minus the swim-my feeling in his skull and the fact the room seem to be moving. He dwelt on this swirling-calm feeling for awhile before Yura broke his contemplation of it.
"Hey shenpai."
He turned.
"You ticklish?"
Kyouya raised an eyebrow, before shrugging. He honestly didn't know. He never had been tried before.
"Wouldsh like to find out?"
Before being even given a chance to respond, Kyouya found himself tackled on to the bed and had pale fingers with long nails running up and down his sides. It was probably the oddest feeling he had ever experienced: the tingling sensation welling up in his chest and glee building in his throat, threatening to escape. He suppressed his laughing while trying to get away from her hands. But Yura had strategically used her feet to keep his hands at bay, by spreading them apart, while attacking him. Trying vainly to get away for some time, he eventually gave into the feeling and burst out into fit of laughter. Unrestrained, to point where tears came to his eyes and his stomach hurt from the exertion.
Yura, though enjoying the sound of his laughter, even in her drunken state knew not to take it too far. Though what she considered not too far was beyond Kyouya's limit, who was now having trouble catching his breath. So he did the only thing he could do in his position. He wrapped his legs around her and all but threw her across the bed. She landed on the pillows, seemingly sobered up by the shock of being tossed, before assuming a cat crouching stance and pouncing back in his direction. Instead of being pinned down again, Kyouya caught her and held her down so she lied on top of him, both in an uncontrollable state of laughter. He then began to tickle her.
In the face of her frequent denials, Yura was actually quite ticklish, especially her neck where Kyouya was now attacking. She managed to squirm out and attempted to jump back to the other side of the bed. Only Kyouya, who also seemed less drunk now, grabbed her ankle, stopping her leap, playfully tossed her on the bed and pinned her there by hovering over her while they still laughed, though he stopped shortly, Yura completely unaware of their position. Her giggling soon subsided, and by the time she did notice, Kyouya leaned down to kiss her. Her smile faded and her eyes seem to cloud over. He kissed her again, this time deeply, before going down, placing small kisses on her neck. He stopped, noticing not only the veins sticking out her neck but her whole body was tense and raised his head to see that her face was distorted, almost as if she was in pain.
"Yura?"
She opened her eyes, stunned but smiled again.
"Is something wrong?"
She shook her head.
"No, nothing. I'm fine, go ahead."
He reluctantly kissed her. She responded with eagerness, a sign of her consent. He traveled down to her neck but it didn't take long to feel her tense up again. He raised his head and could see her hands clenched until the knuckles were white, some of the sheet in her fist. He looked at her face to see her teeth clenched and eyes screwed shut.
"Yura." He was firmer this time, his tone demanding an explanation.
She looked at him, a mixture of quaking and suffering.
"It's noth-"
"Yura."
"C-could you just not kiss me there?" she asked meekly, trying a different approach.
"Why?"
"I-I just…please just…don't-"
"Is it because of her?" the thought came out of his mouth the same time it entered his head, alcohol having deadened his sense of tact.
Yura was silent to his question. Not because she didn't want to answer, but because she was trying to discover the reason herself.
"Yura?"
Silence still reigned.
Kyouya gave a frustrated huff.
"Why can't you just tell me Yura?"
"Why are you so bent on knowing Kyouya?!" she shot back hotly.
He jumped and watched her move to the foot of the bed. The young woman began to curl into a ball, putting her hand over her ears, and the brown colored eyes seemed to see something else. Nothing that was present in that room.
"Yura?" he called to her in concern as she slightly rocked back and forth, her mouth at her knees. Her eyes were wide with fear and a cold sweat settled on her skin.
"Yura!"
Pulling her out of the fetal position, he held her shoulders and shook her a little. Yura blinked and focused on him. She couldn't understand why his face was traced with panic.
"Kyouya-senpai, I'm sorry." She whispered, making sound similar to a dry sob.
"Shh, it's ok." He didn't want to upset her any further.
"But I-"
"It's okay."
"Ky-" he cut her off with a rough kiss and with that she seemed to get the message.
He maneuvered himself to the head of the bed with an arm still around her. The Ootori heard the occasional quiet sniffs but his shirt was still dry.
It was dark.
Looking around, even with the supposed thick shroud of black, the tatami mats lining the floor could be differentiated from the empty white walls. Ears listened intently for any sound at all, the mind wishing the rain would be silent this time as it made one drowsy.
The next time the eyes opened it was because the ears had heard a sound. The sound of a wooden door sliding on its track.
"Hehe…"
Laughter. Laughter was never a good thing in this room. It meant more pain and the brain wasn't sure how much it could take again so soon.
"There you are. Why are you hiding your face? Come here."
The eyes rose to see the silhouette of a woman on her knees. They could distinguish a smile and a hand stretched out. The head flinched but the hand didn't move away. It stroked the cheek with doting, a hidden roughness poorly concealed.
"Why are you afraid? Don't worry Yumie, Chiko will make you feel better."
'Whose Yumie?' thought the brain, while the small undernourished body trembled violently as a hand lowered to the waist and undid the obi of the small yukata. The lips that were smiling now puckered and touched the twiggy neck, leaving marks of lipstick as it went down with each peck.
"Chiko will make you feel so good…"
The nose smelt something strong and fermented coming from the mouth touching the neck. Small thin hands attempted to push the hourglass figure away but to no avail. The woman proved too strong. She wrapped her large hand around the wrist and pressed them to the mat. The body felt something crawl on its skin as the stained lips pushed against dry cracked ones.
"Relax Yumie, Michiko will make it allll better…."
Yura jumped awake but quickly closed her eyes. The movement woke Kyouya who looked down at her for minutes, trying to ascertain if she had just jumped in her asleep. He pushed some hair out of her face. His wife opened her eyes.
The sad look was now distraught.
"Senpai, I-"
He put a finger to her lips.
"Do I have to kiss you again to make you be quiet?" he asked under his breath.
Yura looked down, as if ashamed. Kyouya sighed mentally. He had only asked half-jokingly to get her to laugh. He could do nothing as she got up from his loose embrace and picked up a little pouch and towel before heading into the adjoining bathroom.
Yura couldn't catch her breath. All breathing was in short gasps. Her head spun and ached while images of the slow moving dream flitted across her eyes. She became afraid to blink because she could see it more clearly.
Michiko staggering towards her. Her small hands in the woman's face, trying to push her off. Her many attempts until finally she gave up, as she did in all those visits in the basements. The hands sliding up her thighs…
She squeezed her eyes shut; shaking her head, trying to tell herself it was just a nightmare, nothing more. But it felt so real. And her breathing was getting worse. Yura crawled over to the pouch she had dropped and searched through it for her asthma pump. Her limbs felt numb and heavy, it requiring more strength to do such a simple thing.
"You know it happened." said the quiet voice in her head. Only now it sounded like it was using a microphone near her ears while still keeping the hush intact.
Yura shook her head more.
"No, it didn't. It was just a nightmare." She spoke aloud.
"Stop lying to yourself. You know it happened. And it happened more than once."
"No! Shut up it was just a nightmare!" she cried, throwing all the contents of the pouch onto the floor and running her hands among the items, not sure what she was looking for anymore, though her breathing had not improved.
"You just forgot, like you forgot everything else. The recent 'visits' alone are enough to drive anyone mad with hate…"
"SHUT UP!" she put her hand over her ears. Tears poured and fell off her chin like raindrops. "IT'S NOT TRUE!"
"Ah, but you and I both know it is."
"NO!"
Yura's back hit the sink. A crashing noise made her look up. The ceramic cup she had placed on the counter yesterday now lied in pieces on the floor. She went over and began to pick up the shards, apologizing to the echoing air.
"There is one way you can forget again….permanently."
She stopped and listened, hearing the voice out. Anything was better than remembering that.
"You can just end it all here and be in the darkness you are so accustomed to forever." The voice sounded happy.
Yura's eyes widened. They lowered to the broken ceramic. She took up a piece, pinching it between her fingers. The skin broke and blood trailed down the material and plopped unto the tiled floor.
"Just one piece and you can say goodbye to the pain, the fear, the nightmares, all of it!"
Yura took a bigger fragment and held it to her wrist. Her vision was blurred though she had in her contacts. Her hands wouldn't stop trembling.
"Now, why didn't you think of this before?" the voice accused in a chastisement.
"Why? Because…" she didn't continue but closed her eyes as new images came to mind.
Her grandparents.
The host club.
Yuki hugging her arm in the car.
"I love you, Yumiko…"
The picture of Kyouya flashed through her head. Then the stricken face she saw last night.
Yura dropped the ceramic and moved away from it as if it were following her, yelling at her to do the deed. She held her wrist.
'What am I thinking?!'
The panting quarter scrambled to the tub and filled it with water. She dunked her head into the tub. Five seconds past before Yura pulled up for air. Taking her hand, she splashed her face with the cold water.
'How could I even think of doing that? After all this time?'
"It must be the alcohol making a mess of my brain." She reasoned, resting her head on the edge of the tub, a hand still in the water.
She stayed there for some minutes, trying to understand what she had almost done, until she heard a knock and then Kyouya's voice. Only then did she recollect she hadn't locked the door.
"Yura, I apologize, but I need to-" he stopped at the sight of his wife on the ground, her left hand in the tub and a piece of sharp ceramic a few feet away from her.
She watched his eyes go from the one to the other before they enlarged and he rushed over to her, looking more affrighted than last night.
"Senpai, wait, I can explain…" she tried but her volume dropped to a faint murmur. He moved unassumingly but with haste, taking her arm out of the tub and checking it. Then her other arm. Her legs. Neck. Even went so far as to lift up her dress and check her stomach and ran a hand down her lower back. A blush crossed her face.
"Yura, what do you-" Kyouya couldn't finish. He was breathless.
"Kyouya-senpai, I can-I wasn't-I just couldn't-" she buried her face in her hands and began once again to curl in on herself. She was still and once Kyouya had regained some of his composure, tried to pull her out of the position. The young woman gave no resistance. He raised her face to see her eyes closed and mouth open.
Yura had fainted.
Chapter 37 next.
Love and Peace.