The Balance
By Jillian Storm
(Disclaimer: The itch has not left . . . nor has it resolved. What else is new?
Alternate reality, crossover, continuing chaos. I'm going to start stirring things
up a bit—I might try a few new things next time.)
"Finished. Finished?" Faye skirted around the edges of the prop room scanning
and rescanning the organized piles. "I'm done?" The eager actress turned and
saw Utena leaning in the doorway, smiling with mystical patience while shaking
her head slightly.
"You're done, thanks Faye." Utena laughed.
"Don't know how I forgot about that rule saying you must check in all of your
equipment before leaving after the last show . . ." Faye muttered to herself as
she ran from her temporary prison. Still, she could hardly believe that the time
had come for the last rule to even be enforced. "Never Too Close" had been her
debut performance, and while she seemed quite overshadowed by the other cast,
Faye was content to have been noticed by the Times' reporter who was waiting
for her in the lobby.
Waiting with her rooster-head brother.
"Hang on, Shin! I'm coming!" Faye hurried with a desperate concern, taking
the stairs two at a time.
But she only came to gloat
It stuck right there in my throat
Unfinished business. Ruka allowed the woman lean in as she chuckled at his
story. Standing just behind her shoulder, Spike raised his eyebrows and caught
Ruka's glance with silent communication honed by years of teamwork on the
stage.
The hidden message: What the heck?
The evening was wearing thin, with the earliest hours of the following day
swiftly approaching. Just in time, Spike had unveiled a second round of hors
d'oeuvres and Faye burst into the main room of Spike's apartment—citing
"misleading directions" as her excuse. Shin ran his fingers through his hair,
looking amused and letting Faye tell her story of the life-or-death struggle they
went through finding the elusive complex.
It was a fairly lively gathering, the entire cast, crew, and a significant number of
friends and family were present. Kenshin had been the first to leave, showing
up with Kaoru and complete kindergarten in tow . . . then leaving just as
quickly—most likely to put the kindergarten to bed.
Ruka had started the evening in a small swarm of fans—intellectuals who came
to the Road Rage religiously and had established themselves as investors. One
by one, they had wandered to other circles of conversation, until Ruka had found
himself interestingly enough—left talking to the one person he'd wanted to
confront since the pieces of his puzzle had begun to fit together.
One by one, Shiori had whittled the company down until she had Ruka to
herself. They'd maintained a surprising level of casual conversation, even
though the actor had begun to feel a deliberate irritation building in the skull just
behind his ears.
Ruka signaled his confidence to Spike, and looked down at the slender girl in
her surprisingly alien, casual clothes. Her hair tied back in two harmless
looking pig-tails. Balancing the glass between her fingers, that alone betraying
her clumsiness—although, that too seemed more innocent than a lack in culture.
"It's sure different than the college parties . . ." Shiori said, glancing around,
surveying the crowd. "It's almost midnight and everyone is still on their feet, or
sitting consciously . . ."
"Did you act in college?" Ruka asked, asking out polite conversation.
"No," Shiori smiled, "But I dated a lot of actors." She tipped her glass to her
lips, where it knocked against her teeth while she again turned her head away.
The girl recovered with a small sip, and continued, "They were all rather second
rate. Compared to you . . . to the Road Rage, of course."
Ruka felt the strain between them, "It's very different than high school as well."
"Oh, please!" Shiori laughed almost musically, "That was so long ago, I can
barely remember . . ."
"You were rather involved then too, if I remember correctly." Ruka added
lightly, his tone only revealing a glib reminiscence.
"I found . . . inspiration . . . in high school. That's for sure." Shiori smiled,
leaning in again. "But I've grown so far beyond that. My interests have moved
on to other things . . . now I *am* acting!"
Ruka stood his ground, letting Shiori tap his arm with each of her free fingers—
wondering.
How she loved to turn the screw
And leave you feel indebted to her fantasies and views
Juri turned away and walked over to Sano who was re-enacting something for
Misao and her friends. The young girl laughed loudly, no emotion bridled with
her characteristic honesty. Juri wrestled a moment before saying, "It's refreshing
to hear someone enjoying herself."
Misao started, musing over the comment and after deciding it was
complimentary, spoke up enthusiastically, "Why not? I mean, look where I am?
I'm with the cast of the Road Rage . . . and I've only been admiring you all my
life. I've lived here forever, in the city, y'know." Her recently-changed-green
eyes shimmered with affection and pleasure.
"The *cast* of the Road Rage?" Sano said, sounding hurt and acting pathetic in
order to regain her attention, "I thought you were just here because of me?"
Pointing at his nose.
"You're okay." Misao added flippantly. Juri wondered at the cruelty of
children, but saw mutual understanding between them.
That moment, glancing back, she met Shiori's eyes. But the girl turned coolly,
and re-doubled her focus on Ruka.
Juri watched the leaning. The way their hair fell forward to hide their eyes, and
as her spider web fingers laced around Ruka's arm. Torn between feeling
protective and jealous, Juri wondered which she felt for whom.
So surprised you saw it through
Couldn't help but notice
Faye couldn't remember when she had felt happier. There was something
frightening about the way she simply had to turn and Shin was there. Almost as
constant a presence as her brother, and Shin's definition of wrestling was
significantly more interesting .
Earlier, she had noticed that she seemed too desperate and clingy—pulling Shin
around and showing him off to everyone. Faye had enough sense to realize after
a few raised eyebrows that her joy might seem unhealthy—so when Spike had
given her a funny face, she'd immediately un-glomped from Shin's arm. That's
when she noticed with no-small comfort that Shin still followed her,
undistracted by the other guests who recognized him and called his name.
"This is Julia," Faye waved her hand, palm out. "Julia, this is Alexander Ed . .
."
"Shin," Julia smiled warmly, the world began to glow with a warm light. Faye
felt a bit of irritated heat tight between her shoulder blades. "You've grown so
much . . ."
"Hey, Jules," Shin flushed, "You don't have to treat me like such a kid
anymore."
"We were neighbors, growing up." Julia turned back to Faye.
"Right," Faye said, not convinced that everything was platonic. "Now, moving
on! Next." Faye turned quickly, a bit startled by her own reaction, hoping
against hope that the past wouldn't come only to ruin her present.
Unexpectedly, she felt Shin slip his hand into hers. Squeezing back, Faye
glanced up appreciatively as they matched each other's pace moving between the
crowds, "I . . . I, uh, . . ."
"Don't worry about it." Shin shrugged, "I mean that, you don't have to worry."
He glanced over at Saitou and Spike, then over at Ruka. "But, Faye, it's not like
we've had a lot of time together to totally exclude the possibility that perhaps . .
."
Faye laughed, "Hey, don't you worry about *them*!" She pulled his chin back
towards her. "I'm not interested in them ever—pompous pigs, all of them!" She
suddenly laughed, "And you'd better not be interested in them either!"
She breathed more assuredly, but as she turned from Ruka she noticed his
attentive companion and paused. "That's queer." Faye puzzled, watching Shiori
monopolize the man's space and time.
"Um," Shin wasn't following her.
"Peculiar cast dynamics." Faye whispered. "She knows that Ruka's definitely
smitten with Juri . . . but yet . . ." Shin accommodated her silence with his own
attempted concentration, but he kept being drawn to the way that her eyebrows
pulled together while she was serious. "Well, it's interesting, anyway." Faye
beamed, "But I don't know if I'm going to worry about that either. Perhaps
tomorrow."
You'd covered all means of escape
Found the other people's parties second rate
All evening, Ruka played the role. Letting Shiori tell him stories about how
she'd auditioned at the Emperial Theater, the Glass House and turned down an
extra role in a production of Sunset Boulevard so she could take a better role in
"Never Too Close."
"I've always fancied newer work," Shiori had set herself on the couch, quite
close to Ruka, and held her hand with the glass in front of him whenever she
spoke—as if it were a carrot. "Mr. Himura might have a few more good pieces
in him—but I'd like to try my hand at writing something myself. I always
fancied I'd like to work from the other side of things."
Ruka nodded, appearing quite interested. All the while, he couldn't help but feel
watched. Spike passed by every once and a while, always on his way to hover
nearer Julia—but offering a silent escape. And Juri. Juri was aware.
He laughed politely, letting Shiori rest her hand on his—curious how far the girl
was wanting to take her ambitions. And wondering how he might use it to his
advantage.
"If it wasn't for you, Ruka darling."
"Excuse me?" Ruka said, with a bit of surprise, curious.
"If it wasn't for you, things wouldn't be nearly as fun." Shiori finished, raising
her arms and using them to help propel herself up from the soft cushions. She
offered him her arm, eyes twinkling.
"I could say the same." Ruka teased, stepping close. So close, Shiori lifted her
eyes slowly, tilting her head back so she could see his taller features. "You play
me so beautifully, Shiori. Time and again." He took her hands into his own, the
glass tipping dangerously and the remaining liquid circling the edge of the rim.
"I was hoping you could answer a question for me. Solve something that's
troubled me for a while . . ."
"Yes?" Shiori breathed, twisting her wrists but only coming closer.
"Why is it that we always settle for second best?"
"Damn," Shiori turned passive, her eyes flashing with bitter passion.
"I'll tell you." Ruka added, his touch almost friendly, understanding, without
losing his grip on her. "It's so we can get one more step closer . . . toward the
ideal . . ."
Shiori snapped, "Are you going to take me home?"
It ain't easy
It ain't easy
It ain't easy
"Excuse me."
"No one can hear you, darling."
"Want me to try?"
"As if, Faye." Spike stepped up on top of his coffee table, pushing a few empty
plates to the side so he wouldn't step on them, "Alright everyone. Look up here
at the actor."
"Does that mean I should get up there?" Sano shouted back from across the
room.
"Did I say rooster?" Spike slouched over, seeming terribly not amused that the
remaining guests were laughing at Sano's joke. Placing his hands on either hip,
Spike continued, "Small speech from the host. Thank you all for coming. I
know that we all look forward to Catherine's catering services." A substantial
applause drowned out Spike's following comment, which he repeated with a
touch more aggravation. "She said she has business cards at the main table if
anyone is interested. Anyway, there are two more bits of business to bring to
your attention." He scanned the thinned audience. "Hey, where's Ruka?"
Spike turned, but couldn't find his friend anywhere. He couldn't see Shiori
either for that matter, and he was confident that they'd been together most of the
evening. And neither was with Juri at that moment, who stood almost by
herself, next to Julia.
He smiled, "Make that one bit of business rather." He motioned with his hand,
and no one seemed terribly surprised to see the lithe blonde actress move toward
him.
"Don't tell me she said 'yes'?" Sano whined above the growing chuckles from
everyone.
"She said 'yes'." Julia confirmed her words, by pulling Spike down by his collar
and giving him a ferocious kiss.
"That's unhealthy!" Sano continued to whine, but pushing through the others,
congratulated them with a broad grin. "It's all because of that conversation with
Saitou isn't it?"
"I had nothing to do with this." Saitou said gruffly, stepping up to study Julia
with narrowed eyes. "I never would have suspected you'd give in . . ."
"Thanks, old man." Julia teased with her sophisticated manner, trying to hold
Spike up even as she held his arm.
"He's collapsing." Saitou noticed, casually.
"I've got him." Julia reassured, "And you can expect to see me back at auditions
next cast call."
Saitou's lips pulled back into a smile-sneer, "It's about time." He took a step
back, before pausing to add, "At least something good will come from all of this
. . ."
Faye rested her head on Shin's shoulder, "That's real sweet." She yawned.
"Ready to go?" Shin asked.
"Yes, sir." Faye walked rather dizzily and appreciated Shin's efforts to find her
coat from the remaining pile in the back bedroom. "Thanks." She said, pulling
her hair out from where the hood settled against her shoulders. "Shin, did you
notice?"
"Notice?" Shin asked, holding the door open. "How we never heard the second
news?" He said more softly as she walked past.
"Right, I wonder what Ruka had planned."
Reduced a listener to a tear
Forgetting what had brought him here
Undoing everything he'd known
Left him wake up in the morning on his own
"It's not that far, we'll keep in touch." Julia reassured, holding her coat tight
around her. The chilly April breeze still reminded them enough of winter.
"She might, but you know how I am." Spike smiled, cautiously. Helping lift
bags from the trunk and put them within Ruka's reach. "Did you tell anyone?"
"Wondered how long it would take you to ask," Ruka let a heavy breath slip
past his lips, imitating laughter. "Saitou knows. Knows enough that I'm not
leaving the Road Rage so much as trying to sort out something else."
"They will be able to help you there, right?" Julia asked, tilting her head and
putting her body closer to Spike's. Her blonde hair fanning around her neck.
"It's a rather new series of medical procedures, but these doctors are supposed to
be the best. Between them all, I should get a proper diagnosis at least." Ruka
added affectionately, "I might even end up okay, come back with a renewed
vigor and take over the stage."
"I don't know what we'll do without you." Spike tucked his hands in his
pockets. "Need any help hauling this stuff?"
"It's not that far." Ruka glanced back toward the airport. "Could you . . . could
you keep this all low profile? I'd rather Juri not worry about me . . . or begin to
wonder too much what might have been . . ."
"Don't you worry either!" Julia said sadly. "We just wish she was here with
you, of course."
"It's too late for that." Ruka said, more brightly and with resigned acceptance.
"I'd lost my chance with her." He shared an understanding look with Spike.
"We'll make sure . . . you don't have to worry about . . . her." Spike tried to be
discrete.
"Juri will be fine." Ruka said mostly for his own reassurance. "But, if she needs
me, still, let me know as soon as possible."
Then, Ruka hefted his luggage, letting it slip into a more secure hold in his
gloved hands, and turned to cross the walkway and the front door traffic into the
airport.
"He's going to be hard to replace. I bet Saitou was livid." Spike said, passing
around his car to open the driver's side door.
Sitting on the opposite side, Julia touched her engagement ring, turning it and
mused, "Do you know what he did with her's? He never asked did he?"
"We must have been stupid when Ruka and I dreamed up our scheme. But so
much happened since then, that I'm sure he never felt he could. Just ended up I
was the lucky one." Spike concentrated on his driving, and Julia gave him a
thoughtful glance.
It's how you leave no time to breathe
It's how you leave no time to breathe
Juri sat on her couch and stared at the orange artwork, trying to remember the
feeling she had when she'd created it. Trying to remember what it felt like to
make something beautiful without worrying about the outcome—or how others
were going to receive it. Trusting.
What had Ruka been going to say? Was he going to announce that he was
leaving? The sad news counterbalanced by Spike and Julia's engagement?
The cd stopped playing. She glanced at the empty cup of tea, the book that had
been sitting on the end table—the bookmark still in the same place it had
stopped three months ago. Before "Never Too Close" had really started. The
book that she and Ruka were going to finish together.
Not that it mattered. He was the one who'd left. And he'd left the party early,
with Shiori.
She wondered about that. How, suddenly, unexpectedly—Ruka had taken an
interest in the young girl. And how Shiori had responded in turn. Of all people.
Them, together. As if she had no part in the decision at all.
"It's amazing how strong you are through this . . ."
Juri had set the phone down, just barely able to hear Julia's voice, but no longer
obligated to listen to the words. Her eyes, wandering, almost focused on the
moments in her past she felt incredibly out of control . . . doubtful of her
strength.
"Thank you." Juri said into the now silent phone, setting it back on it's resting
place.
She picked up the book. Determined that she would be able to finish it on her
own. Automatically turning to the marked pages, brushing her fingers over the
words there.
"And now you're gone." She said aloud, flipping one page and intent on reading
what came next. "I'm forgetting, Ruka. Wasn't there something I meant to ask
you . . . ?"
When the phone rang next, she let it go unanswered. Continuing to turn pages
forward.
All is not all that it seems
Thought the rest was just a breeze
Till you remind me of my inadequacies
"Pick up, damn it." Shiori frowned, dropping the phone as she gave up and
kicking at various items scattered around her room. Her apartment, like her very
life, seemed to be tumbling into chaos in spite of her hopes and intentions. But
what they had been, she couldn't remember.
Juri. She could almost refocus when she thought of Juri. But, even that had
been taken away from her. The plan to regain a little of his attention through
rage or jealousy. Shiori was so certain that something vibrant was between
Ruka and Juri, so why hadn't she been able to spin things her way? Then all had
gone rather well with the actor and Shiori could almost remember how he had
made her feel years ago. She was certain that it was Ruka. Somehow, he'd been
using everything to bring Juri his direction. He must have . . . but his intentions
were still masked . . . and failed.
No matter the plans he'd spoiled. He was gone.
Juri. She could almost refocus when she thought of Juri.
And acting. There was always acting. Adlibbing, until whatever she wanted
would come clear.
It's infantile,
it's in your smile,
here's my sign you'll soon be mine
It's infantile,
it's in your smile,
here's my sign you'll soon be mine
It's infantile,
it's in your smile,
here's my sign you'll soon be mine
By Jillian Storm
(Disclaimer: The itch has not left . . . nor has it resolved. What else is new?
Alternate reality, crossover, continuing chaos. I'm going to start stirring things
up a bit—I might try a few new things next time.)
"Finished. Finished?" Faye skirted around the edges of the prop room scanning
and rescanning the organized piles. "I'm done?" The eager actress turned and
saw Utena leaning in the doorway, smiling with mystical patience while shaking
her head slightly.
"You're done, thanks Faye." Utena laughed.
"Don't know how I forgot about that rule saying you must check in all of your
equipment before leaving after the last show . . ." Faye muttered to herself as
she ran from her temporary prison. Still, she could hardly believe that the time
had come for the last rule to even be enforced. "Never Too Close" had been her
debut performance, and while she seemed quite overshadowed by the other cast,
Faye was content to have been noticed by the Times' reporter who was waiting
for her in the lobby.
Waiting with her rooster-head brother.
"Hang on, Shin! I'm coming!" Faye hurried with a desperate concern, taking
the stairs two at a time.
But she only came to gloat
It stuck right there in my throat
Unfinished business. Ruka allowed the woman lean in as she chuckled at his
story. Standing just behind her shoulder, Spike raised his eyebrows and caught
Ruka's glance with silent communication honed by years of teamwork on the
stage.
The hidden message: What the heck?
The evening was wearing thin, with the earliest hours of the following day
swiftly approaching. Just in time, Spike had unveiled a second round of hors
d'oeuvres and Faye burst into the main room of Spike's apartment—citing
"misleading directions" as her excuse. Shin ran his fingers through his hair,
looking amused and letting Faye tell her story of the life-or-death struggle they
went through finding the elusive complex.
It was a fairly lively gathering, the entire cast, crew, and a significant number of
friends and family were present. Kenshin had been the first to leave, showing
up with Kaoru and complete kindergarten in tow . . . then leaving just as
quickly—most likely to put the kindergarten to bed.
Ruka had started the evening in a small swarm of fans—intellectuals who came
to the Road Rage religiously and had established themselves as investors. One
by one, they had wandered to other circles of conversation, until Ruka had found
himself interestingly enough—left talking to the one person he'd wanted to
confront since the pieces of his puzzle had begun to fit together.
One by one, Shiori had whittled the company down until she had Ruka to
herself. They'd maintained a surprising level of casual conversation, even
though the actor had begun to feel a deliberate irritation building in the skull just
behind his ears.
Ruka signaled his confidence to Spike, and looked down at the slender girl in
her surprisingly alien, casual clothes. Her hair tied back in two harmless
looking pig-tails. Balancing the glass between her fingers, that alone betraying
her clumsiness—although, that too seemed more innocent than a lack in culture.
"It's sure different than the college parties . . ." Shiori said, glancing around,
surveying the crowd. "It's almost midnight and everyone is still on their feet, or
sitting consciously . . ."
"Did you act in college?" Ruka asked, asking out polite conversation.
"No," Shiori smiled, "But I dated a lot of actors." She tipped her glass to her
lips, where it knocked against her teeth while she again turned her head away.
The girl recovered with a small sip, and continued, "They were all rather second
rate. Compared to you . . . to the Road Rage, of course."
Ruka felt the strain between them, "It's very different than high school as well."
"Oh, please!" Shiori laughed almost musically, "That was so long ago, I can
barely remember . . ."
"You were rather involved then too, if I remember correctly." Ruka added
lightly, his tone only revealing a glib reminiscence.
"I found . . . inspiration . . . in high school. That's for sure." Shiori smiled,
leaning in again. "But I've grown so far beyond that. My interests have moved
on to other things . . . now I *am* acting!"
Ruka stood his ground, letting Shiori tap his arm with each of her free fingers—
wondering.
How she loved to turn the screw
And leave you feel indebted to her fantasies and views
Juri turned away and walked over to Sano who was re-enacting something for
Misao and her friends. The young girl laughed loudly, no emotion bridled with
her characteristic honesty. Juri wrestled a moment before saying, "It's refreshing
to hear someone enjoying herself."
Misao started, musing over the comment and after deciding it was
complimentary, spoke up enthusiastically, "Why not? I mean, look where I am?
I'm with the cast of the Road Rage . . . and I've only been admiring you all my
life. I've lived here forever, in the city, y'know." Her recently-changed-green
eyes shimmered with affection and pleasure.
"The *cast* of the Road Rage?" Sano said, sounding hurt and acting pathetic in
order to regain her attention, "I thought you were just here because of me?"
Pointing at his nose.
"You're okay." Misao added flippantly. Juri wondered at the cruelty of
children, but saw mutual understanding between them.
That moment, glancing back, she met Shiori's eyes. But the girl turned coolly,
and re-doubled her focus on Ruka.
Juri watched the leaning. The way their hair fell forward to hide their eyes, and
as her spider web fingers laced around Ruka's arm. Torn between feeling
protective and jealous, Juri wondered which she felt for whom.
So surprised you saw it through
Couldn't help but notice
Faye couldn't remember when she had felt happier. There was something
frightening about the way she simply had to turn and Shin was there. Almost as
constant a presence as her brother, and Shin's definition of wrestling was
significantly more interesting .
Earlier, she had noticed that she seemed too desperate and clingy—pulling Shin
around and showing him off to everyone. Faye had enough sense to realize after
a few raised eyebrows that her joy might seem unhealthy—so when Spike had
given her a funny face, she'd immediately un-glomped from Shin's arm. That's
when she noticed with no-small comfort that Shin still followed her,
undistracted by the other guests who recognized him and called his name.
"This is Julia," Faye waved her hand, palm out. "Julia, this is Alexander Ed . .
."
"Shin," Julia smiled warmly, the world began to glow with a warm light. Faye
felt a bit of irritated heat tight between her shoulder blades. "You've grown so
much . . ."
"Hey, Jules," Shin flushed, "You don't have to treat me like such a kid
anymore."
"We were neighbors, growing up." Julia turned back to Faye.
"Right," Faye said, not convinced that everything was platonic. "Now, moving
on! Next." Faye turned quickly, a bit startled by her own reaction, hoping
against hope that the past wouldn't come only to ruin her present.
Unexpectedly, she felt Shin slip his hand into hers. Squeezing back, Faye
glanced up appreciatively as they matched each other's pace moving between the
crowds, "I . . . I, uh, . . ."
"Don't worry about it." Shin shrugged, "I mean that, you don't have to worry."
He glanced over at Saitou and Spike, then over at Ruka. "But, Faye, it's not like
we've had a lot of time together to totally exclude the possibility that perhaps . .
."
Faye laughed, "Hey, don't you worry about *them*!" She pulled his chin back
towards her. "I'm not interested in them ever—pompous pigs, all of them!" She
suddenly laughed, "And you'd better not be interested in them either!"
She breathed more assuredly, but as she turned from Ruka she noticed his
attentive companion and paused. "That's queer." Faye puzzled, watching Shiori
monopolize the man's space and time.
"Um," Shin wasn't following her.
"Peculiar cast dynamics." Faye whispered. "She knows that Ruka's definitely
smitten with Juri . . . but yet . . ." Shin accommodated her silence with his own
attempted concentration, but he kept being drawn to the way that her eyebrows
pulled together while she was serious. "Well, it's interesting, anyway." Faye
beamed, "But I don't know if I'm going to worry about that either. Perhaps
tomorrow."
You'd covered all means of escape
Found the other people's parties second rate
All evening, Ruka played the role. Letting Shiori tell him stories about how
she'd auditioned at the Emperial Theater, the Glass House and turned down an
extra role in a production of Sunset Boulevard so she could take a better role in
"Never Too Close."
"I've always fancied newer work," Shiori had set herself on the couch, quite
close to Ruka, and held her hand with the glass in front of him whenever she
spoke—as if it were a carrot. "Mr. Himura might have a few more good pieces
in him—but I'd like to try my hand at writing something myself. I always
fancied I'd like to work from the other side of things."
Ruka nodded, appearing quite interested. All the while, he couldn't help but feel
watched. Spike passed by every once and a while, always on his way to hover
nearer Julia—but offering a silent escape. And Juri. Juri was aware.
He laughed politely, letting Shiori rest her hand on his—curious how far the girl
was wanting to take her ambitions. And wondering how he might use it to his
advantage.
"If it wasn't for you, Ruka darling."
"Excuse me?" Ruka said, with a bit of surprise, curious.
"If it wasn't for you, things wouldn't be nearly as fun." Shiori finished, raising
her arms and using them to help propel herself up from the soft cushions. She
offered him her arm, eyes twinkling.
"I could say the same." Ruka teased, stepping close. So close, Shiori lifted her
eyes slowly, tilting her head back so she could see his taller features. "You play
me so beautifully, Shiori. Time and again." He took her hands into his own, the
glass tipping dangerously and the remaining liquid circling the edge of the rim.
"I was hoping you could answer a question for me. Solve something that's
troubled me for a while . . ."
"Yes?" Shiori breathed, twisting her wrists but only coming closer.
"Why is it that we always settle for second best?"
"Damn," Shiori turned passive, her eyes flashing with bitter passion.
"I'll tell you." Ruka added, his touch almost friendly, understanding, without
losing his grip on her. "It's so we can get one more step closer . . . toward the
ideal . . ."
Shiori snapped, "Are you going to take me home?"
It ain't easy
It ain't easy
It ain't easy
"Excuse me."
"No one can hear you, darling."
"Want me to try?"
"As if, Faye." Spike stepped up on top of his coffee table, pushing a few empty
plates to the side so he wouldn't step on them, "Alright everyone. Look up here
at the actor."
"Does that mean I should get up there?" Sano shouted back from across the
room.
"Did I say rooster?" Spike slouched over, seeming terribly not amused that the
remaining guests were laughing at Sano's joke. Placing his hands on either hip,
Spike continued, "Small speech from the host. Thank you all for coming. I
know that we all look forward to Catherine's catering services." A substantial
applause drowned out Spike's following comment, which he repeated with a
touch more aggravation. "She said she has business cards at the main table if
anyone is interested. Anyway, there are two more bits of business to bring to
your attention." He scanned the thinned audience. "Hey, where's Ruka?"
Spike turned, but couldn't find his friend anywhere. He couldn't see Shiori
either for that matter, and he was confident that they'd been together most of the
evening. And neither was with Juri at that moment, who stood almost by
herself, next to Julia.
He smiled, "Make that one bit of business rather." He motioned with his hand,
and no one seemed terribly surprised to see the lithe blonde actress move toward
him.
"Don't tell me she said 'yes'?" Sano whined above the growing chuckles from
everyone.
"She said 'yes'." Julia confirmed her words, by pulling Spike down by his collar
and giving him a ferocious kiss.
"That's unhealthy!" Sano continued to whine, but pushing through the others,
congratulated them with a broad grin. "It's all because of that conversation with
Saitou isn't it?"
"I had nothing to do with this." Saitou said gruffly, stepping up to study Julia
with narrowed eyes. "I never would have suspected you'd give in . . ."
"Thanks, old man." Julia teased with her sophisticated manner, trying to hold
Spike up even as she held his arm.
"He's collapsing." Saitou noticed, casually.
"I've got him." Julia reassured, "And you can expect to see me back at auditions
next cast call."
Saitou's lips pulled back into a smile-sneer, "It's about time." He took a step
back, before pausing to add, "At least something good will come from all of this
. . ."
Faye rested her head on Shin's shoulder, "That's real sweet." She yawned.
"Ready to go?" Shin asked.
"Yes, sir." Faye walked rather dizzily and appreciated Shin's efforts to find her
coat from the remaining pile in the back bedroom. "Thanks." She said, pulling
her hair out from where the hood settled against her shoulders. "Shin, did you
notice?"
"Notice?" Shin asked, holding the door open. "How we never heard the second
news?" He said more softly as she walked past.
"Right, I wonder what Ruka had planned."
Reduced a listener to a tear
Forgetting what had brought him here
Undoing everything he'd known
Left him wake up in the morning on his own
"It's not that far, we'll keep in touch." Julia reassured, holding her coat tight
around her. The chilly April breeze still reminded them enough of winter.
"She might, but you know how I am." Spike smiled, cautiously. Helping lift
bags from the trunk and put them within Ruka's reach. "Did you tell anyone?"
"Wondered how long it would take you to ask," Ruka let a heavy breath slip
past his lips, imitating laughter. "Saitou knows. Knows enough that I'm not
leaving the Road Rage so much as trying to sort out something else."
"They will be able to help you there, right?" Julia asked, tilting her head and
putting her body closer to Spike's. Her blonde hair fanning around her neck.
"It's a rather new series of medical procedures, but these doctors are supposed to
be the best. Between them all, I should get a proper diagnosis at least." Ruka
added affectionately, "I might even end up okay, come back with a renewed
vigor and take over the stage."
"I don't know what we'll do without you." Spike tucked his hands in his
pockets. "Need any help hauling this stuff?"
"It's not that far." Ruka glanced back toward the airport. "Could you . . . could
you keep this all low profile? I'd rather Juri not worry about me . . . or begin to
wonder too much what might have been . . ."
"Don't you worry either!" Julia said sadly. "We just wish she was here with
you, of course."
"It's too late for that." Ruka said, more brightly and with resigned acceptance.
"I'd lost my chance with her." He shared an understanding look with Spike.
"We'll make sure . . . you don't have to worry about . . . her." Spike tried to be
discrete.
"Juri will be fine." Ruka said mostly for his own reassurance. "But, if she needs
me, still, let me know as soon as possible."
Then, Ruka hefted his luggage, letting it slip into a more secure hold in his
gloved hands, and turned to cross the walkway and the front door traffic into the
airport.
"He's going to be hard to replace. I bet Saitou was livid." Spike said, passing
around his car to open the driver's side door.
Sitting on the opposite side, Julia touched her engagement ring, turning it and
mused, "Do you know what he did with her's? He never asked did he?"
"We must have been stupid when Ruka and I dreamed up our scheme. But so
much happened since then, that I'm sure he never felt he could. Just ended up I
was the lucky one." Spike concentrated on his driving, and Julia gave him a
thoughtful glance.
It's how you leave no time to breathe
It's how you leave no time to breathe
Juri sat on her couch and stared at the orange artwork, trying to remember the
feeling she had when she'd created it. Trying to remember what it felt like to
make something beautiful without worrying about the outcome—or how others
were going to receive it. Trusting.
What had Ruka been going to say? Was he going to announce that he was
leaving? The sad news counterbalanced by Spike and Julia's engagement?
The cd stopped playing. She glanced at the empty cup of tea, the book that had
been sitting on the end table—the bookmark still in the same place it had
stopped three months ago. Before "Never Too Close" had really started. The
book that she and Ruka were going to finish together.
Not that it mattered. He was the one who'd left. And he'd left the party early,
with Shiori.
She wondered about that. How, suddenly, unexpectedly—Ruka had taken an
interest in the young girl. And how Shiori had responded in turn. Of all people.
Them, together. As if she had no part in the decision at all.
"It's amazing how strong you are through this . . ."
Juri had set the phone down, just barely able to hear Julia's voice, but no longer
obligated to listen to the words. Her eyes, wandering, almost focused on the
moments in her past she felt incredibly out of control . . . doubtful of her
strength.
"Thank you." Juri said into the now silent phone, setting it back on it's resting
place.
She picked up the book. Determined that she would be able to finish it on her
own. Automatically turning to the marked pages, brushing her fingers over the
words there.
"And now you're gone." She said aloud, flipping one page and intent on reading
what came next. "I'm forgetting, Ruka. Wasn't there something I meant to ask
you . . . ?"
When the phone rang next, she let it go unanswered. Continuing to turn pages
forward.
All is not all that it seems
Thought the rest was just a breeze
Till you remind me of my inadequacies
"Pick up, damn it." Shiori frowned, dropping the phone as she gave up and
kicking at various items scattered around her room. Her apartment, like her very
life, seemed to be tumbling into chaos in spite of her hopes and intentions. But
what they had been, she couldn't remember.
Juri. She could almost refocus when she thought of Juri. But, even that had
been taken away from her. The plan to regain a little of his attention through
rage or jealousy. Shiori was so certain that something vibrant was between
Ruka and Juri, so why hadn't she been able to spin things her way? Then all had
gone rather well with the actor and Shiori could almost remember how he had
made her feel years ago. She was certain that it was Ruka. Somehow, he'd been
using everything to bring Juri his direction. He must have . . . but his intentions
were still masked . . . and failed.
No matter the plans he'd spoiled. He was gone.
Juri. She could almost refocus when she thought of Juri.
And acting. There was always acting. Adlibbing, until whatever she wanted
would come clear.
It's infantile,
it's in your smile,
here's my sign you'll soon be mine
It's infantile,
it's in your smile,
here's my sign you'll soon be mine
It's infantile,
it's in your smile,
here's my sign you'll soon be mine