Mukashi no Koibito
3 : A Trace of Before
The restaurant that Sanosuke was telling her about was located on the fringe of the city, in an area Megumi rarely ventured into. This was known to be a seedier part of the city; home to society's outsiders, trendy to adolescents and generally avoided by the white-collar crowd. Her uneasy curiosity at the surroundings did not escape his notice.
"Not the kind of place for a woman like you?"
"Why bring me here then?"
"Well, today you have me to protect you."
He cast a sidelong glance at her. She raised an eyebrow, though she let his comment pass. If he knew how used to being alone she was, he would understand that protecting herself was something she had learnt to do since a young age.
"That's the place I'm talking about," he pointed to the run-down exterior of what looked like an eating establishment. "The signboard fell off a long time ago and nobody can remember what it's called anymore."
He shoved the stiff door aside and let her enter before following behind her. The layout of the restaurant was unexpectedly traditional. Tall exposed wooden beams supported the structure while shoji screens separated each dining space from the next. There were a few random customers scattered here and there, but otherwise the inside was quite empty.
Placing a gentle hand on the small of her back, he guided her to one of the partitioned spaces. His touch was intimate, and she realized that she ought to swat his hand away. They took off their shoes and seated themselves on the tatami before a short table. She fingered the shoji screen that separated their space from the next, noting how yellowed with age the rice paper panels were. There was a lantern by each side of the opening, and the light they emitted bathed the dim area in a warm yellow glow.
"How old is this place?" she asked as she marveled at the interior. It was exquisite in a way that only a truly old establishment could be. There was none of the deliberateness that constructed nostalgia possessed. As it was, the restaurant seemed to be falling apart.
He shrugged. "Old. Since early Meiji, maybe? It's a beautiful place."
She nodded enthusiastically. "It is, isn't it? Even though it…" she made a wide gesture in an attempt to illustrate her point.
"Even though it looks like it's going to collapse on us any minute!" he finished for her.
He grinned mischievously, and then started bouncing up and down on his heels. The floorboards beneath the tatami creaked alarmingly. She had to laugh.
"You know," he continued, more serious this time. "Its good you appreciate its beauty. Too many people think it's a piece of junk that should be torn down."
"You feel a lot for this place?"
The way he had instantly known where to sit upon entering the restaurant; the way he had settled himself carelessly on the tatami, one leg folded and the other hitched up, suggested that these were surroundings he was accustomed to.
He contemplated her thoughtfully. "I just think some part of the past should always exist in the present. It reminds us of who we once were."
The astuteness of the comment seemed out of character for the brash young man sitting across her. But more surprising than his sudden flash of acumen was the startling effect of his words. Vaguely she understood that there was some meaning she was supposed to grasp from them, but her floundering thoughts could not even begin to discern what it was. Confused, she looked to him to see if he realized the weight of what he had said carried.
He merely looked back at her with curiosity. "Why are you staring at me like that for?"
She shook her head irritably. He could just as well be quoting from a history textbook.
"Daijoubu? It's the second time tonight you're looking out of sorts."
"I'm fine," she said firmly. "Let's order."
Yet his words continued to dance around the edges of her thoughts, the meaning always frustratingly out of reach.
---
She was distracted, Sanosuke could tell. From the absent-minded way she was picking at her food with her chopsticks to the pensive look in her eyes, she appeared as if she was lost in her own world. Occasionally she would snap out of her musings, and remember that he was sitting across from her.
He poured himself another cup of sake, and downed it in one swallow. Then he poured more sake into the now empty cup. Was it something he said? Megumi seemed interested enough at the start, but now they were only having fits and starts at conversation.
"You drink a lot."
He looked up to meet appraising eyes. Once again her mind was back with him in the restaurant. "What do you care?" he spat out, venting his disappointment in the harsh tone of his words.
She looked surprised at first, then she narrowed her eyes at him. "Save your aggression for brawling."
Her words cut, and a moment of tense silence ensued. He scowled as he wrapped the fingers of his uninjured hand tightly around the sake flask, clenching it with controlled force. He could easily crush the ceramic vessel if he wanted to, but then he would only prove her right, that he was aggressive. It was with a tinge of irony that he realized how rapidly their relationship was developing - they were already having their first quarrel. Chikusho--
Then for the second time that night she caught him off-guard. She reached across the table and clasped her hand around his. Gently, she pried his fingers from the flask. Laying his hand flat against the table, she rested her own on his open palm. Her touch felt cool against his warm skin.
He cleared his throat. Whatever she was trying to do, it was having quite an effect on him. The tension drained from his taut shoulders as he allowed himself to savor the sensation of her palm against his. He shifted somewhat awkwardly. The simplest of gestures, yet it aroused the strongest feelings of desire.
"Gomen," she began, and then she paused.
Slowly, he closed his fingers around her hand.
"You and I…" Her voice trailed off before she could complete her sentence. She shook her head again. "I wish I could explain to you what's on my mind, but I just… I just can't find the words." A small sound of exasperation escaped from her lips.
He let his gaze dwell over her troubled features. "I understand," he finally said.
There was nothing more he wanted at that moment than for her to reveal her thoughts. He wanted to tell her that he would listen with utmost attention no matter what she chose to disclose, but he was reluctant to push her.
In return, she smiled gratefully. Her hand was still nestled in his. He could feel the fine bones of her smooth fingers beneath his callused touch. She had been thinking about them, and he could empathize with that. The phenomenon that was Takani Megumi was a mystery to him, and he was sure that she too sensed the unusual intimacy between them. But while she tried to put the strangeness in concrete words, he was content to just have her by his side. He was one who lived by instinct, for experience had taught him it was the best way to survive on the streets. So if gut feeling told him it was right to be with her, then that was enough for him, for now.