Departure
By Jillian Storm
(Disclaimer: I would say the end is near; however, originally, this was supposed
to be a one-chapter stand-alone fic. It would seem I'm the least reliable source
of information regarding any potential ending. No, this is not the last chapter.
Continuing the mix of characters whisked away into an alternate reality where
they are all somehow irreversibly bonded to the Road Rage Theater.
Somewhere, in the background, Catatonia whispers the accompanying lyrics.
And words from Part of Me and Bachelorette.)
"Thanks for the ride."
"I'll be back to pick you up later, then."
Heero waited, watching the rain wash down the side window almost as if the
glass itself was melting and sliding away. "Are you getting out of the car?" He
growled affectionately reaching over to tangle his fingers in the back of Trowa's
hair. "As much as I'd just like to take you back home and waste a day like this
with you, I do have work to do. The Glass House production is nearly ready for
show."
"I," Trowa smiled sheepishly, "I just have this funny feeling. With the weather
being so beautiful for a moment there and then the sudden storm."
"Artists." Heero tapped Trowa dismissively, giving him the motivation to reach
for the door handle. Almost pushing the door open before Heero changed his
mind and gripped Trowa's shoulder. "Listen, if you need me . . . just call.
Okay?"
"Right." Trowa tried smiling again, shaking his head. "Don't worry."
Heero watched as Trowa darted toward the front door of the Road Rage with
long steps, crouching against the falling wet. Pausing just under the over hang
and pulling open the glass door. Then he was gone.
Just as he began to pull away, Heero heard the passenger door pull open.
"Wait."
Glancing over, his eyebrow lifted seeing the seat immediately filled by a very
pissed Juri Arisugawa. She challenged him with a steeled glance, "I don't care
where you're going, just get us there."
"Okay." He shrugged.
***
"Hi Juri," But she was gone. Trowa kept walking forward, a bit reluctant at the
sizable gathering just past the foyer doors. The most approachable individual
was Nichol, who leaned in the doorway. "What's going on?"
Nichol didn't glance over, "Some old friend." He snickered, "Pretty funny
actually. You missed the initial pile up of hugs and back slapping."
The center of the mass was a friendly enough looking fellow with an easy smile
on his handsome features. His eyes thin slits, seemingly happy, but interestingly
distant. The conversation was a chaotic volley from which they could pick
pieces.
"Well, I am best man after all . . ." In an almost haughty humor and a laugh
quickly picked up by the others.
"You didn't ever tell us you were coming back so soon." Spike's voice pointed.
He was balanced on the corner of one of the auditorium rows. Julia just in front
of him a little to the side. Her arms gently folded, one finger tapping anxiously.
"You've got pictures of those indy film actresses right man?" Sano. Thumping
the stranger heartily.
"Too bad you didn't come back in time for auditions, Ruka." Saitou. Back in
the shadows outside the inner group. His fingers raised with an invisible
cigarette.
"Sure, I want to see the show." The familiar name, Ruka. Trowa remembered it
in passing. He was a name that associated with Juri somewhat. Why wasn't she
here? "But I thought I'd stop by a rehearsal and catch you all before the rush."
"Well, you're too late." Faye said accusingly, "Shin and I already eloped."
Heads turned until she retracted with a hearty, "Enough, I'm kidding!"
"You'll all have to fill me in . . ."
"Later."
And Saitou's word was firmer than iron.
He wishes he was dead
draws the sheet across his head
Ruka felt the pressure against his chest as soon as the crowd had formed. His
eyes had instinctively sought her out. He wanted to see her again. Know that
she was still waiting. Still there. Flawless. Fatally beautiful.
Then, like a broken record, Shiori had been at his side. With coy glances and a
particularly new sparkle to her eyes. Making him doubt that she'd diminished
her fire while he had been gone, but something about her seemed less vibrant as
well. As if she was wasting away and her eyes were the only part of her
desperately hanging on to life. And there was her hair. Perfect for her
character, a futile attempt on her part to appear anything but ordinary.
Exceptionally ordinary by contrast, her freckles all too earnestly scattered for
such extravagant expression.
Where was Juri?
Invited to stay, Ruka felt himself finally relax into the worn cushion of the chair
he'd selected half-way to the front directly in the most middle seat. Balance. He
hadn't felt balance in so long. After falling and falling alone for months. The
unique blend of smells refreshed his lungs more than the oxygen masks ever
could. The failing yellow bulbs were easy on his eyes. Nothing was sterile.
Everything was dangerous, and therefore, he was in love. Vulnerable and yet
most comfortably secure.
Where was she?
*Never felt so alive *
It was awkward, but she felt some of the tension easing from her shoulders into
something she might find useful. Watching something so familiar, but foreign.
Done just enough differently that she was enraptured by the flow of bodies and
the shower of words.
And the oddness of her stiff companion wasn't troubling, Heero glanced her way
now and again. Obviously at a loss, and human enough to wonder what it was
he wasn't doing. He slumped deeper into the chair, his knees pulling tight the
torn leather pants balanced against the back of the chair in front of him. It
seemed incredibly uncomfortable.
"What's the matter?" He said finally, not nearly as gruff as it could have been
since the words came free with a rush quite like relief that he'd managed them at
all.
"I might be relaxing, but I'm not happy." Juri warned, realizing that the
emotions were closer to the surface that she first thought. "Just to be fair,
alright. I don't want to say anything I might regret."
"Hn." Heero said, succeeding in sounding as if he honestly didn't care.
They sat still a moment longer. Finally, Heero rolled his head toward her
completely and said quite bluntly, "If you don't do something, I will make you."
"Do not mistake privilege for a blank check . . . " Her words were clipped and
the cool resolve she'd tried to tap into agitated again.
"I could say the same thing." Heero said, low and threatening, although his
features never stiffened from their lax comfort. "You need to bottle that feeling
and send it back where it belongs."
"Oh great, bottle it up?" Juri sneered, "While you're trying to rile me again?"
"You misunderstand," Heero said simply, "I meant that you need to direct it
exactly to the source. Don't hide whatever this is. If it's in your nature, do what
you want to. Act on your emotion."
She scowled, eyes flashing. Even as Heero began to fall asleep. While the
actors took their places on the stage, over and over again.
Moved him in to share the bed,
turns out he's sharing her instead
Was it all worthwhile?
"Oh, crap. Turn that horrid thing off." Spike winced as Julia began to dig
through her bag. "Why the heck do you leave that on 'Memory' after all that
we've been through together?" He rubbed his eyes with exaggerated exhaustion,
although it had been a rather unusual day.
"Got it." Julia held the small phone to her ear and listened for a moment before
saying, "It's confirmed then? Good." She snapped the phone together and
dropped it into her bag.
"You didn't fix it." Spike scowled. "It's just going to do it again, y'know."
"Cope." Julia smiled innocently, "We're a go for the Velvet tonight. But I still
can't get Juri to answer."
Spike mulled that thought for a while, letting his expression alone display the
long process of thought. "How much you want to bet that she heard about Ruka
somehow and that's why she never showed up today?"
"I didn't quite imagine this . . . quick of a return." Julia said, tactfully. They
were hovering in the Road Rage foyer, waiting for Sano and Faye to walk down
to the Velvet together. Ruka had left early, avoiding their questions. Questions
they hesitated to hazard answers for.
The avoided looking at each other for a while, lost in their own suspicions and
all too well informed opinions.
Julia whispered, "If only he'd let us . . . prepare her . . ." but then their
companions had come and such thoughts had to be set aside.
Must have been funny,
must have been dim –
cut it up and let it all in
Must have been funny,
must have been dim –
cut it up and let it all in
"What's this? And why is it green?" Catherine stared at their drinks watching
Juri drink the thing steadily even as she grimaced. A bit fearful, Catherine
tasted the liquid and was amazed by the shocking, instantaneous reaction. "If I
didn't know better," Catherine said, concern leaking into her words, "I'd say you
wanted to leave that conservative habit of yours behind tonight."
"You could say that," Juri leaned back, the drink finished and her eyes roaming
the floor of the Karaoke Queen. The lights full and illuminating the floor with a
steady warmth. A warmth that was beginning to refill her spirit.
"Okay," Catherine tasted the drink again, "I'll go with you, but . . . uh . . . I think
I'll be coming a little more slowly." She set the glass down. Noticeably, Juri
was carrying herself differently. She had the same almost expressionless gaze,
but the set of her jaw was tense. Predatory. Even her clothes, different shades
of a shadow made her look like a crouched panther. Feeling the need to hold
onto the conversation, she added, "You look pretty sexy tonight." Juri made no
comment.
Catherine's glass was empty and well on it's way to enhancing her system when
Juri had finished three. The green stuff smelled good enough and lingered
between them. Although nothing much had been said. Catherine kept an eye
fixed on Juri at all times. Juri seemed to be drifting elsewhere and everywhere
in thought.
"Okay." Pushing down on her palms and managing to stand, Catherine paused
to shake out her hair. "We need to move, or I'm going to waste away to sleep up
here doing nothing. Saying nothing."
Juri followed silently, down the stairs and into the dancers. Tangling through
them. Cathy being pulled off by someone who might have been a regular at the
Queen, not that either of them were attaching memories to any of the other
faces. From a distance, Cathy still found herself concerned with Juri. Watching
for her, stopping to find her when she wasn't immediately visible.
"Enough." Catherine said, pulling away until she was facing Juri, a bit taken
back by the bitter grin crossing the actor's features. "What is this?" Cathy said,
reaching out with both hands, with her thumbs trying to smooth away the
unfamiliar pull on the usually smooth skin and collected expression.
Juri laughed loudly, humorless. "I'm unhappy. Terribly unhappy." She tossed
her hair back, wrapping an arm around Catherine's waist, "I think I'm the
unhappiest person ever."
Catherine blinked, not protesting when Juri's other arm pulled her close and held
her head against her shoulder. Breathing in deeply of Catherine's hair, "I won't
hurt you." Juri whispered. "Not you."
Still stiff, Catherine let Juri hold her. Puzzled.
"You smell like peppermints, you know."
"Well . . ." Catherine said, half muffled into Juri's shoulder, turning her face out
so that only her cheek stayed against Juri. "At least whatever you made me
drink doesn't cover that up." Her tone managing to stay light.
Immediately, Juri let her go. Turning her head aside, "I shouldn't . . . maybe you
should go."
"What?" Catherine said, perplexed. "I'm okay, I'm okay." Bumped by an
enthusiastic dancer, Catherine feebly protested as Juri walked away.
Don't want you to go,
just need you to know
Can't leave the house:
Catherine had been too soft. She should have pushed away instead of enduring.
Otherwise, Juri was afraid she might truly break again-lose her resolve. And
that was a violent opening for pain, a rejection she couldn't adopt just then . . .
no not then. Not with everything that had happened just that day. She had to
keep something intact. Something outside of herself-because she had too much
to sort through.
Where to begin?
She had to release the emotions somehow. Somewhere.
There always was the stage.
he wouldn't dare,
hang this guilty frame with stares
Naked in a fray
"Remind me," Sano tipped backwards in his chair, balancing on the two back
feet, somehow managing to balance, "Who's idea was this?"
"Yours, rooster head," Ruka grinned, "Take the tequila or else."
"Are you sure? I'm not sure." Sano managed to pick the glass up with his finger
tips and brought it to his lips. "I think I would have remembered if this was my
idea."
"I don't think you're going to remember much of anything." Ruka said, sitting
comfortably. He'd agreed to one game after Sano had managed to look
believably heart broken. He wondered where the kid had found that expression.
Most of the others had made their excuses and gone home. It had been good to
see them again, Saitou had seemed content with the vague story Ruka had
shallowly developed. He had seen a few shows on the coast, between the
unmentioned probing sessions with the doctors. Details he felt were relatively
unnecessary. And by the looks that Spike and Julia had been giving him all
evening, he'd be telling the full version soon enough to their particular company.
The only new face had been Dorothy Catalonia who had outlasted even Shiori.
Shiori who had made excuses and left. Still, it wasn't the time. He'd speak with
her soon enough.
"You keep taking the water." Dorothy observed, her silvery blonde hair spilling
around her bare shoulders as she examined the remaining glasses. He liked the
way she'd tactfully avoided the drinks herself. Always keeping her wits and
sophistication around her.
"He doesn't notice." Ruka said, smiling at Sano most fondly. The boy groaned,
taking the last glass and letting his forehead hit the table. "I suppose you're
giving both of us a ride home." Ruka added softly.
"It's no trouble, really." Dorothy's expression was coy, but muted. Letting her
white fingers balance her cheek and chin as she studied him thoughtfully.
"Your thoughts?" Ruka asked.
"I'm just fitting you in." Dorothy answered, "Interestingly enough . . . you
weren't what I expected at all."
"For the better," Ruka breathed a laugh, "I should hope."
"Oh yes."
It won't suit my style
Must have been funny,
must have been dim –
cut it up and let it all in
By that hour, those left were as misplaced as she was. Catherine must have
understood, she had left without trying to find her again.
The song seemed indulgent, but remembering the way that simple aroma had
intoxicated her that moment. When she let her guard down. It equally
perplexed and infuriated her. Why did she ever allow herself to consider? To
expect? To hope?
*the game we're playing is life (my love)
*love is a two way dream
*leave me now - return tonight
*the tide will show you the way
She sighed deeply, the wearing down of the alcohol against her fragile system.
Worries, even as she picked up the lyrics of the song without evidence to tiring.
Where was Catherine to take her home? When did she suspect that she relied on
that too much? Why was she always adding to the anxieties? Keep it simple.
*forget my name go astray
*i'm a path of cinders (my love)
*burning under your feet
No. She needed a different song. She needed nothing with such hope. That she
had lost plenty. Encouraged by the few remaining patrons, she entertained with
another song.
**Angels don't fly, they have no wings
**It is another of those things
**That we make up, that we believe
Opening her eyes, Juri's vision was dim between the haze of her own thoughts
and the foggy air of the Karaoke Queen.
**The real thing is not what we conceive
The polite applause mostly came from the balcony, and she stepped down letting
the next performer take a selection. The dance floor was exclusively couples.
She breezed past it. She didn't belong there.
I don't want you to go,
I just need you to know
I don't want you to go,
I just need you to know
She gave me nothing
that I could bear to lose
"Do you really mean that?
"Do you really think that no one can be a part of you?
"Funny that you'd be singing that song,
"On the day that Ruka's come back. Isn't he what you always wanted?
"Or maybe you're afraid."
Juri felt the smile return. The one that Catherine had wanted to cure. The bitter
smirk. She looked up, unafraid now. Shiori was really quite small, when she
thought about it. No bigger, no bigger. Not nearly as fierce as she had seemed
before. "Afraid?" Juri repeated, her tone rich and confident.
"Well, what else is there?" Shiori shrugged, "You leave when he comes. You're
here when he's there. Simply avoiding him, aren't you? Not that I mind . . . "
"My my my." Juri's eyes narrowed, "When did you return, precious?"
"What?" Shiori started. Swallowing. Her hair dark and odd under the lights.
Her eyes bright, but momentarily amazed.
"I was wondering where you went. This you." Juri stepped forward, Shiori
back against the wall where the staircase fell to the floor. "So many different
'you's trapped in there." She firmly took Shiori's face, moving it as she liked.
"From this direction. Or that direction." She pulled down on Shiori's chin, so
that her lips parted. "Where's this you?" And taking control of everything that
had overwhelmed her that day, Juri kissed the girl she could hate most of all.
And if he reaches for the door,
be sure he'll touch the wood and pause
The darkest evening. The furthest into night that either had seen in some time.
They had left Sanosuke safe in his bed, closing doors behind them.
"This," Ruka leaned back to see the stars. "This is where Juri lived."
"She still does." Dorothy commented. She felt a chill, but not from the night
wind as much as from the sense of destiny crossing her intuition.
Ruka frowned, "That might be so, Dorothy. But I feel as if Juri's long been in
my past."
"So why did you come?"
"To see what I might be able to do for her."
"You loved her?" Dorothy asked, needlessly, but using the momentum to give
him what he needed. They understood each other well enough by that point the
words came as polite formalities.
"Most of all." Ruka glanced over, still Dorothy kept distance. "But I could only
go with her so far. After a point, I was meaningless for her."
"Someone else will take her next. If not you."
"Ah, but who?" Ruka tilted his head to one side. "And why?"
Ask me back for more
We'll still shove us down the stairs,
still get in each other's hair
"Get up."
The sting against her cheek was real. Rolling her head to the side, she saw the
piece of rubber elastic where it had bounced back against the pillow. Putting her
hand up to it, she touched it wonderingly.
"By the way," It was that voice. "I hate you too. Get out of my bed."
Shiori stood in the doorway. Her hair pulled back into a ponytail, still matted
down from sleep. Her eyes darkly lined. She hadn't slept well apparently.
Juri took a deep breath and remembered. And, she didn't really care. She had
given Shiori exactly what the girl had wanted. She sat up, looking around for
her clothes. Taking her underwear first. Slipping it on as if she did that every
morning. Which she did. Except.
"You look like you didn't sleep." Juri said, her tongue dry from her drinking the
night before. She held her forehead a moment, then shrugged on her shirt.
"Not that you look particularly beautiful either," Shiori crossed her arms. "I was
on the couch trying to . . ."
Juri raised an eyebrow, "Didn't want me to hold you, was it?"
"No." The girl said quickly. "No, I didn't."
Juri stood, and stretched out her limbs for a moment. Then walked barefoot
over to the girl. "I suppose you're going to give me a ride home."
That caught the girl off guard, "Have the rooster head come get you or
something." The last word hesitant. Unpracticed.
"That's what I thought." Juri leaned in, and Shiori pulled back. "Just what I
thought." Juri lifted her lazy eyes and watched until Shiori looked away. "I'm
leaving." Juri called back to where the girl stood unmoving. She slipped
through Shiori's living room, finding the front door based on dim memories
from the night before. Picking up her bag from beside the front door, picking up
the few things that had spilled out. Finding her phone.
She didn't really care what Sano thought. Honestly, from the sound of his voice,
he might only attribute the strange beckoning to an early morning dream. To
sleep again.
She walked down to the corner and sat on the curb, pulling on her socks.
Feeling like she was a young teenager again in that split moment. And knowing,
most assuredly at the same time, that she was not.
I don't want you to go,
I just need you to know
I don't want you to go,
I just need you to know
Shiori slipped sideways until she hit the wall. Dragged down until she was
motionless against the ground. So strange. She'd hated Juri forever. Forever.
For never loving Ruka like she had. For never noticing Ruka like she had. For
never loving her as Juri had loved Ruka. For never noticing her.
But her control had slipped. Whatever she'd tried to learn from the others, it had
been so unnecessary. She couldn't be anything more. Her feebly gained power
had dissolved with each touch. With each movement. Juri had taken over.
She had lost again.
Pounding a fist into the floor, she sobbed. What she hated most, was that
everything Juri had done was to make her happy.
And the uncertainly that filled her plans bothered her more than ever before.
But with compounding assurance, she wanted to spoil everything. Whatever she
felt was more than she could accept. More than she could live with.
Did you want him to go?
did you push him to go
where the girl lies
The full weight of the last evening poured on even as her briefly won
satisfaciton pulled down the shower drain.
She should have never listened. Acting on her emotions had gained her nothing.
She had aborted the stir of feelings she'd never before even remotely entertained
for Trowa's emotionally recovering sister. The stir of futile feelings that should
have never happened.
And the wealth of frustration had been released at Shiori's home. Disrupting
whatever nobler intentions she might have wanted to forge with the girl.
Revealing a great many restless, unresolved things from their past.
The past. And then there was Ruka. From that, she had no escape.
And no certainty what to expect.
Where does the girl lie?
why does she hide?
why does she hide . . ?
By Jillian Storm
(Disclaimer: I would say the end is near; however, originally, this was supposed
to be a one-chapter stand-alone fic. It would seem I'm the least reliable source
of information regarding any potential ending. No, this is not the last chapter.
Continuing the mix of characters whisked away into an alternate reality where
they are all somehow irreversibly bonded to the Road Rage Theater.
Somewhere, in the background, Catatonia whispers the accompanying lyrics.
And words from Part of Me and Bachelorette.)
"Thanks for the ride."
"I'll be back to pick you up later, then."
Heero waited, watching the rain wash down the side window almost as if the
glass itself was melting and sliding away. "Are you getting out of the car?" He
growled affectionately reaching over to tangle his fingers in the back of Trowa's
hair. "As much as I'd just like to take you back home and waste a day like this
with you, I do have work to do. The Glass House production is nearly ready for
show."
"I," Trowa smiled sheepishly, "I just have this funny feeling. With the weather
being so beautiful for a moment there and then the sudden storm."
"Artists." Heero tapped Trowa dismissively, giving him the motivation to reach
for the door handle. Almost pushing the door open before Heero changed his
mind and gripped Trowa's shoulder. "Listen, if you need me . . . just call.
Okay?"
"Right." Trowa tried smiling again, shaking his head. "Don't worry."
Heero watched as Trowa darted toward the front door of the Road Rage with
long steps, crouching against the falling wet. Pausing just under the over hang
and pulling open the glass door. Then he was gone.
Just as he began to pull away, Heero heard the passenger door pull open.
"Wait."
Glancing over, his eyebrow lifted seeing the seat immediately filled by a very
pissed Juri Arisugawa. She challenged him with a steeled glance, "I don't care
where you're going, just get us there."
"Okay." He shrugged.
***
"Hi Juri," But she was gone. Trowa kept walking forward, a bit reluctant at the
sizable gathering just past the foyer doors. The most approachable individual
was Nichol, who leaned in the doorway. "What's going on?"
Nichol didn't glance over, "Some old friend." He snickered, "Pretty funny
actually. You missed the initial pile up of hugs and back slapping."
The center of the mass was a friendly enough looking fellow with an easy smile
on his handsome features. His eyes thin slits, seemingly happy, but interestingly
distant. The conversation was a chaotic volley from which they could pick
pieces.
"Well, I am best man after all . . ." In an almost haughty humor and a laugh
quickly picked up by the others.
"You didn't ever tell us you were coming back so soon." Spike's voice pointed.
He was balanced on the corner of one of the auditorium rows. Julia just in front
of him a little to the side. Her arms gently folded, one finger tapping anxiously.
"You've got pictures of those indy film actresses right man?" Sano. Thumping
the stranger heartily.
"Too bad you didn't come back in time for auditions, Ruka." Saitou. Back in
the shadows outside the inner group. His fingers raised with an invisible
cigarette.
"Sure, I want to see the show." The familiar name, Ruka. Trowa remembered it
in passing. He was a name that associated with Juri somewhat. Why wasn't she
here? "But I thought I'd stop by a rehearsal and catch you all before the rush."
"Well, you're too late." Faye said accusingly, "Shin and I already eloped."
Heads turned until she retracted with a hearty, "Enough, I'm kidding!"
"You'll all have to fill me in . . ."
"Later."
And Saitou's word was firmer than iron.
He wishes he was dead
draws the sheet across his head
Ruka felt the pressure against his chest as soon as the crowd had formed. His
eyes had instinctively sought her out. He wanted to see her again. Know that
she was still waiting. Still there. Flawless. Fatally beautiful.
Then, like a broken record, Shiori had been at his side. With coy glances and a
particularly new sparkle to her eyes. Making him doubt that she'd diminished
her fire while he had been gone, but something about her seemed less vibrant as
well. As if she was wasting away and her eyes were the only part of her
desperately hanging on to life. And there was her hair. Perfect for her
character, a futile attempt on her part to appear anything but ordinary.
Exceptionally ordinary by contrast, her freckles all too earnestly scattered for
such extravagant expression.
Where was Juri?
Invited to stay, Ruka felt himself finally relax into the worn cushion of the chair
he'd selected half-way to the front directly in the most middle seat. Balance. He
hadn't felt balance in so long. After falling and falling alone for months. The
unique blend of smells refreshed his lungs more than the oxygen masks ever
could. The failing yellow bulbs were easy on his eyes. Nothing was sterile.
Everything was dangerous, and therefore, he was in love. Vulnerable and yet
most comfortably secure.
Where was she?
*Never felt so alive *
It was awkward, but she felt some of the tension easing from her shoulders into
something she might find useful. Watching something so familiar, but foreign.
Done just enough differently that she was enraptured by the flow of bodies and
the shower of words.
And the oddness of her stiff companion wasn't troubling, Heero glanced her way
now and again. Obviously at a loss, and human enough to wonder what it was
he wasn't doing. He slumped deeper into the chair, his knees pulling tight the
torn leather pants balanced against the back of the chair in front of him. It
seemed incredibly uncomfortable.
"What's the matter?" He said finally, not nearly as gruff as it could have been
since the words came free with a rush quite like relief that he'd managed them at
all.
"I might be relaxing, but I'm not happy." Juri warned, realizing that the
emotions were closer to the surface that she first thought. "Just to be fair,
alright. I don't want to say anything I might regret."
"Hn." Heero said, succeeding in sounding as if he honestly didn't care.
They sat still a moment longer. Finally, Heero rolled his head toward her
completely and said quite bluntly, "If you don't do something, I will make you."
"Do not mistake privilege for a blank check . . . " Her words were clipped and
the cool resolve she'd tried to tap into agitated again.
"I could say the same thing." Heero said, low and threatening, although his
features never stiffened from their lax comfort. "You need to bottle that feeling
and send it back where it belongs."
"Oh great, bottle it up?" Juri sneered, "While you're trying to rile me again?"
"You misunderstand," Heero said simply, "I meant that you need to direct it
exactly to the source. Don't hide whatever this is. If it's in your nature, do what
you want to. Act on your emotion."
She scowled, eyes flashing. Even as Heero began to fall asleep. While the
actors took their places on the stage, over and over again.
Moved him in to share the bed,
turns out he's sharing her instead
Was it all worthwhile?
"Oh, crap. Turn that horrid thing off." Spike winced as Julia began to dig
through her bag. "Why the heck do you leave that on 'Memory' after all that
we've been through together?" He rubbed his eyes with exaggerated exhaustion,
although it had been a rather unusual day.
"Got it." Julia held the small phone to her ear and listened for a moment before
saying, "It's confirmed then? Good." She snapped the phone together and
dropped it into her bag.
"You didn't fix it." Spike scowled. "It's just going to do it again, y'know."
"Cope." Julia smiled innocently, "We're a go for the Velvet tonight. But I still
can't get Juri to answer."
Spike mulled that thought for a while, letting his expression alone display the
long process of thought. "How much you want to bet that she heard about Ruka
somehow and that's why she never showed up today?"
"I didn't quite imagine this . . . quick of a return." Julia said, tactfully. They
were hovering in the Road Rage foyer, waiting for Sano and Faye to walk down
to the Velvet together. Ruka had left early, avoiding their questions. Questions
they hesitated to hazard answers for.
The avoided looking at each other for a while, lost in their own suspicions and
all too well informed opinions.
Julia whispered, "If only he'd let us . . . prepare her . . ." but then their
companions had come and such thoughts had to be set aside.
Must have been funny,
must have been dim –
cut it up and let it all in
Must have been funny,
must have been dim –
cut it up and let it all in
"What's this? And why is it green?" Catherine stared at their drinks watching
Juri drink the thing steadily even as she grimaced. A bit fearful, Catherine
tasted the liquid and was amazed by the shocking, instantaneous reaction. "If I
didn't know better," Catherine said, concern leaking into her words, "I'd say you
wanted to leave that conservative habit of yours behind tonight."
"You could say that," Juri leaned back, the drink finished and her eyes roaming
the floor of the Karaoke Queen. The lights full and illuminating the floor with a
steady warmth. A warmth that was beginning to refill her spirit.
"Okay," Catherine tasted the drink again, "I'll go with you, but . . . uh . . . I think
I'll be coming a little more slowly." She set the glass down. Noticeably, Juri
was carrying herself differently. She had the same almost expressionless gaze,
but the set of her jaw was tense. Predatory. Even her clothes, different shades
of a shadow made her look like a crouched panther. Feeling the need to hold
onto the conversation, she added, "You look pretty sexy tonight." Juri made no
comment.
Catherine's glass was empty and well on it's way to enhancing her system when
Juri had finished three. The green stuff smelled good enough and lingered
between them. Although nothing much had been said. Catherine kept an eye
fixed on Juri at all times. Juri seemed to be drifting elsewhere and everywhere
in thought.
"Okay." Pushing down on her palms and managing to stand, Catherine paused
to shake out her hair. "We need to move, or I'm going to waste away to sleep up
here doing nothing. Saying nothing."
Juri followed silently, down the stairs and into the dancers. Tangling through
them. Cathy being pulled off by someone who might have been a regular at the
Queen, not that either of them were attaching memories to any of the other
faces. From a distance, Cathy still found herself concerned with Juri. Watching
for her, stopping to find her when she wasn't immediately visible.
"Enough." Catherine said, pulling away until she was facing Juri, a bit taken
back by the bitter grin crossing the actor's features. "What is this?" Cathy said,
reaching out with both hands, with her thumbs trying to smooth away the
unfamiliar pull on the usually smooth skin and collected expression.
Juri laughed loudly, humorless. "I'm unhappy. Terribly unhappy." She tossed
her hair back, wrapping an arm around Catherine's waist, "I think I'm the
unhappiest person ever."
Catherine blinked, not protesting when Juri's other arm pulled her close and held
her head against her shoulder. Breathing in deeply of Catherine's hair, "I won't
hurt you." Juri whispered. "Not you."
Still stiff, Catherine let Juri hold her. Puzzled.
"You smell like peppermints, you know."
"Well . . ." Catherine said, half muffled into Juri's shoulder, turning her face out
so that only her cheek stayed against Juri. "At least whatever you made me
drink doesn't cover that up." Her tone managing to stay light.
Immediately, Juri let her go. Turning her head aside, "I shouldn't . . . maybe you
should go."
"What?" Catherine said, perplexed. "I'm okay, I'm okay." Bumped by an
enthusiastic dancer, Catherine feebly protested as Juri walked away.
Don't want you to go,
just need you to know
Can't leave the house:
Catherine had been too soft. She should have pushed away instead of enduring.
Otherwise, Juri was afraid she might truly break again-lose her resolve. And
that was a violent opening for pain, a rejection she couldn't adopt just then . . .
no not then. Not with everything that had happened just that day. She had to
keep something intact. Something outside of herself-because she had too much
to sort through.
Where to begin?
She had to release the emotions somehow. Somewhere.
There always was the stage.
he wouldn't dare,
hang this guilty frame with stares
Naked in a fray
"Remind me," Sano tipped backwards in his chair, balancing on the two back
feet, somehow managing to balance, "Who's idea was this?"
"Yours, rooster head," Ruka grinned, "Take the tequila or else."
"Are you sure? I'm not sure." Sano managed to pick the glass up with his finger
tips and brought it to his lips. "I think I would have remembered if this was my
idea."
"I don't think you're going to remember much of anything." Ruka said, sitting
comfortably. He'd agreed to one game after Sano had managed to look
believably heart broken. He wondered where the kid had found that expression.
Most of the others had made their excuses and gone home. It had been good to
see them again, Saitou had seemed content with the vague story Ruka had
shallowly developed. He had seen a few shows on the coast, between the
unmentioned probing sessions with the doctors. Details he felt were relatively
unnecessary. And by the looks that Spike and Julia had been giving him all
evening, he'd be telling the full version soon enough to their particular company.
The only new face had been Dorothy Catalonia who had outlasted even Shiori.
Shiori who had made excuses and left. Still, it wasn't the time. He'd speak with
her soon enough.
"You keep taking the water." Dorothy observed, her silvery blonde hair spilling
around her bare shoulders as she examined the remaining glasses. He liked the
way she'd tactfully avoided the drinks herself. Always keeping her wits and
sophistication around her.
"He doesn't notice." Ruka said, smiling at Sano most fondly. The boy groaned,
taking the last glass and letting his forehead hit the table. "I suppose you're
giving both of us a ride home." Ruka added softly.
"It's no trouble, really." Dorothy's expression was coy, but muted. Letting her
white fingers balance her cheek and chin as she studied him thoughtfully.
"Your thoughts?" Ruka asked.
"I'm just fitting you in." Dorothy answered, "Interestingly enough . . . you
weren't what I expected at all."
"For the better," Ruka breathed a laugh, "I should hope."
"Oh yes."
It won't suit my style
Must have been funny,
must have been dim –
cut it up and let it all in
By that hour, those left were as misplaced as she was. Catherine must have
understood, she had left without trying to find her again.
The song seemed indulgent, but remembering the way that simple aroma had
intoxicated her that moment. When she let her guard down. It equally
perplexed and infuriated her. Why did she ever allow herself to consider? To
expect? To hope?
*the game we're playing is life (my love)
*love is a two way dream
*leave me now - return tonight
*the tide will show you the way
She sighed deeply, the wearing down of the alcohol against her fragile system.
Worries, even as she picked up the lyrics of the song without evidence to tiring.
Where was Catherine to take her home? When did she suspect that she relied on
that too much? Why was she always adding to the anxieties? Keep it simple.
*forget my name go astray
*i'm a path of cinders (my love)
*burning under your feet
No. She needed a different song. She needed nothing with such hope. That she
had lost plenty. Encouraged by the few remaining patrons, she entertained with
another song.
**Angels don't fly, they have no wings
**It is another of those things
**That we make up, that we believe
Opening her eyes, Juri's vision was dim between the haze of her own thoughts
and the foggy air of the Karaoke Queen.
**The real thing is not what we conceive
The polite applause mostly came from the balcony, and she stepped down letting
the next performer take a selection. The dance floor was exclusively couples.
She breezed past it. She didn't belong there.
I don't want you to go,
I just need you to know
I don't want you to go,
I just need you to know
She gave me nothing
that I could bear to lose
"Do you really mean that?
"Do you really think that no one can be a part of you?
"Funny that you'd be singing that song,
"On the day that Ruka's come back. Isn't he what you always wanted?
"Or maybe you're afraid."
Juri felt the smile return. The one that Catherine had wanted to cure. The bitter
smirk. She looked up, unafraid now. Shiori was really quite small, when she
thought about it. No bigger, no bigger. Not nearly as fierce as she had seemed
before. "Afraid?" Juri repeated, her tone rich and confident.
"Well, what else is there?" Shiori shrugged, "You leave when he comes. You're
here when he's there. Simply avoiding him, aren't you? Not that I mind . . . "
"My my my." Juri's eyes narrowed, "When did you return, precious?"
"What?" Shiori started. Swallowing. Her hair dark and odd under the lights.
Her eyes bright, but momentarily amazed.
"I was wondering where you went. This you." Juri stepped forward, Shiori
back against the wall where the staircase fell to the floor. "So many different
'you's trapped in there." She firmly took Shiori's face, moving it as she liked.
"From this direction. Or that direction." She pulled down on Shiori's chin, so
that her lips parted. "Where's this you?" And taking control of everything that
had overwhelmed her that day, Juri kissed the girl she could hate most of all.
And if he reaches for the door,
be sure he'll touch the wood and pause
The darkest evening. The furthest into night that either had seen in some time.
They had left Sanosuke safe in his bed, closing doors behind them.
"This," Ruka leaned back to see the stars. "This is where Juri lived."
"She still does." Dorothy commented. She felt a chill, but not from the night
wind as much as from the sense of destiny crossing her intuition.
Ruka frowned, "That might be so, Dorothy. But I feel as if Juri's long been in
my past."
"So why did you come?"
"To see what I might be able to do for her."
"You loved her?" Dorothy asked, needlessly, but using the momentum to give
him what he needed. They understood each other well enough by that point the
words came as polite formalities.
"Most of all." Ruka glanced over, still Dorothy kept distance. "But I could only
go with her so far. After a point, I was meaningless for her."
"Someone else will take her next. If not you."
"Ah, but who?" Ruka tilted his head to one side. "And why?"
Ask me back for more
We'll still shove us down the stairs,
still get in each other's hair
"Get up."
The sting against her cheek was real. Rolling her head to the side, she saw the
piece of rubber elastic where it had bounced back against the pillow. Putting her
hand up to it, she touched it wonderingly.
"By the way," It was that voice. "I hate you too. Get out of my bed."
Shiori stood in the doorway. Her hair pulled back into a ponytail, still matted
down from sleep. Her eyes darkly lined. She hadn't slept well apparently.
Juri took a deep breath and remembered. And, she didn't really care. She had
given Shiori exactly what the girl had wanted. She sat up, looking around for
her clothes. Taking her underwear first. Slipping it on as if she did that every
morning. Which she did. Except.
"You look like you didn't sleep." Juri said, her tongue dry from her drinking the
night before. She held her forehead a moment, then shrugged on her shirt.
"Not that you look particularly beautiful either," Shiori crossed her arms. "I was
on the couch trying to . . ."
Juri raised an eyebrow, "Didn't want me to hold you, was it?"
"No." The girl said quickly. "No, I didn't."
Juri stood, and stretched out her limbs for a moment. Then walked barefoot
over to the girl. "I suppose you're going to give me a ride home."
That caught the girl off guard, "Have the rooster head come get you or
something." The last word hesitant. Unpracticed.
"That's what I thought." Juri leaned in, and Shiori pulled back. "Just what I
thought." Juri lifted her lazy eyes and watched until Shiori looked away. "I'm
leaving." Juri called back to where the girl stood unmoving. She slipped
through Shiori's living room, finding the front door based on dim memories
from the night before. Picking up her bag from beside the front door, picking up
the few things that had spilled out. Finding her phone.
She didn't really care what Sano thought. Honestly, from the sound of his voice,
he might only attribute the strange beckoning to an early morning dream. To
sleep again.
She walked down to the corner and sat on the curb, pulling on her socks.
Feeling like she was a young teenager again in that split moment. And knowing,
most assuredly at the same time, that she was not.
I don't want you to go,
I just need you to know
I don't want you to go,
I just need you to know
Shiori slipped sideways until she hit the wall. Dragged down until she was
motionless against the ground. So strange. She'd hated Juri forever. Forever.
For never loving Ruka like she had. For never noticing Ruka like she had. For
never loving her as Juri had loved Ruka. For never noticing her.
But her control had slipped. Whatever she'd tried to learn from the others, it had
been so unnecessary. She couldn't be anything more. Her feebly gained power
had dissolved with each touch. With each movement. Juri had taken over.
She had lost again.
Pounding a fist into the floor, she sobbed. What she hated most, was that
everything Juri had done was to make her happy.
And the uncertainly that filled her plans bothered her more than ever before.
But with compounding assurance, she wanted to spoil everything. Whatever she
felt was more than she could accept. More than she could live with.
Did you want him to go?
did you push him to go
where the girl lies
The full weight of the last evening poured on even as her briefly won
satisfaciton pulled down the shower drain.
She should have never listened. Acting on her emotions had gained her nothing.
She had aborted the stir of feelings she'd never before even remotely entertained
for Trowa's emotionally recovering sister. The stir of futile feelings that should
have never happened.
And the wealth of frustration had been released at Shiori's home. Disrupting
whatever nobler intentions she might have wanted to forge with the girl.
Revealing a great many restless, unresolved things from their past.
The past. And then there was Ruka. From that, she had no escape.
And no certainty what to expect.
Where does the girl lie?
why does she hide?
why does she hide . . ?