Good Enough
By Jillian Storm
(Disclaimer: Chapter 7 of an ongoing crossover with characters from Pretear, Utena, Gundam Wing, X 1999 and narrated by Keisuke from Fushigi Yugi. Consequently, the story is also alternate reality-putting them in the contemporary world, most of them in their late twenties. All that being said, the characters are respectfully borrowed from their original creators. The lyrics, from Gordon Lightfoot's songs "Don't Beat Me Down" and "The Circle is Small." The details, insightful, ingenious or flawed- those I claim. Enjoy.)
***
All it takes some times is a little brooding room and you realize what it was you were missing.
I remember being in about third grade and terrorizing Miaka during a long car ride home from somewhere. My poor mother. Anyway, I'm sure Miaka was holding her own just fine, but, being oldest, the burden of responsibility was assigned to me. I was the only one promised some form of punishment when we got home.
I remember being absolutely infuriated. All the way to the local DQ. So when Mom pulled in, parked and offered to buy us ice cream. I'd crossed my arms stubbornly and stayed put in the back seat.
Until five minutes later, I realized she hadn't exactly ~excluded~ me from the treat.
And then I learned the lesson. Whatever the ultimate outcome, take what all you can get in the meantime. Because if life is going to suck, you might as well get a free ice cream out of it.
And that's why I'm driving right past the Transylvanian Concubine this night. I finally figured out what I was missing. So blue bowling shirt and awkward smile, I'm going to ignore everything else, go back to Four Doors and so to find my consolation.
If Hayate shows, he might need me. While my friend is becoming more open, he's also leaving himself wildly vulnerable.
And, besides, that's where Sorata should be.
When I was a youth, I found the truth in the eyes of a friend. There wasn't anyone could make the light dim. And we talked and we rambled and we gambled to win, and the learning was good.
Glancing around the establishment, I feel the comfort settling over me like a second skin. Not anything to make me invisible or different, just more me. The me that belonged there. Two older women were crowding the jukebox, which was playing Elvis again. Just beyond them, I could make out Dorothy's flash of pale blonde hair as she strolled around to the other side of the pool table. I didn't recognize her opponent, but apparently tonight she was open to challenges. Or Himeno wasn't there.
"Hey gorgeous!"
Forgive me if I almost stumble. I am used to that being Duo's line. Or even the striking stranger from the T.C. But . . .
"Sorata?" I choke, still managing one foot in front of the other.
"We haven't seen you in a few days. Everything okay?" His eyes, narrow, brown, are suddenly fixed on my own. Leaning in closer.
"Give him some space," Duo's chuckle interferes with my astonishment. "You should be one to talk, Arisugawa. Keisuke doesn't show up for a few nights, we imagine he's drinking beers at home. You on the other hand," Duo pulls back on Sorata's shoulder and looking past our mutual friend, winks at me, "Have a bit of explaining to do yourself."
"I wasn't giving Keisuke a hard time, was I?" Sorata smiles, broadly but a bit fearful of Duo's prying. His arm is draping itself around my shoulder. Corralling me to the booth they had been using, the evidence empty bottles waiting for replacement. Hmm, he smells good. Like some sort of brisk aftershave our Sorata would normally scorn.
Duo glances at me skeptically, as if he can hardly believe that I'm letting Sorata off the hook. But if I keep Sorata safe, then I don't have to answer his questions either. And I don't have to hear Sorata's answers.
"Small crowd?" I say taking my seat in the corner, letting Sorata bully himself in next to me with a playful shove. If I didn't know better, I'd say he had missed me.
"Just us," Duo casually tips his head to the side, "and Dorothy. She's facing off with sunglasses boy tonight."
"I wear my sunglasses at night . . ." Sorata starts to sing in a falsetto, and he usually has such a nice voice. I snicker.
"Well dark shades or not," Duo leans forward over his crossed arms, as if letting us in on a secret and his eyes sparkle, "He's giving Dorothy a run for her money. She's so sexy under pressure."
"We wouldn't know." I say solemnly, indicating Sorata and myself with a pointing finger. It's almost a relief when the waitress comes back with their second round. It takes me a moment to recognize her.
"Thanks, Imari," Sorata takes his briskly and leans away from her in an exaggerated way that we all notice. The red-headed woman raises an eyebrow, then glances at me funny.
"Do you want something?"
"Oh, just the same." I wave at Sorata's beer. Which makes her stare at me even more. Am I missing something?
"Wow." Duo breathes when Imari turns smartly and hurries back to the bar, "She's changed fast from a moment ago." Then casting a fleeting glance toward me, he accuses, "Spill, Sorata. What just happened?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Sorata shrugs with an exaggerated lift of his shoulders, which he holds a moment until he realizes that Duo's not buying.
"You must think we're blind." Duo's eyes opened a bit wider, "She's carrying a torch for you?"
"No, no, no!" Sorata backpedals wildly, letting facts slip intentionally or not in his defense, "She just took me boating Monday night since we had some mutual friend, and she took my water skiing suggestions badly and we didn't have much in common except beer and . . ."
"Well, that's all you have in common with us." I say lightly, trying to give Sorata some safe space to come back too while Duo's wolfish grin spread more thickly.
"Now we know that Sorata was on a date," Duo spins his head toward me so quickly, I can hear his bones snap-I think. Sorata's protesting the terminology of "date," but Duo continues, "Where were you, Keisuke?"
"At home drinking beer," I laugh, trying to seem amiable, "And I was with all of you at the picnic."
"But last night and last . . ."
"Scoot over."
God bless Dorothy. Whatever she wants. Put it on my tab.
She came in time to save me from the budding interrogation, distracting us all just as Imari set down my beer and some more colorful thing that Dorothy starts in on right away.
We're all saved.
I bump shoulders with Sorata now and again throughout the evening. He's still there. All is right with the world. Come what may, and all that jazz.
And if powers that be take a liking to us, then we all must return to the ways of a child. We all must return to the ways of a child.
Speaking of jazz, it was only a matter of time before Duo tracked down our old Four Doors buddy and initiated partnership in a musical endeavor. Which was how I ended up at Four Doors early that next Saturday.
Hayate and I had been like passing ships. Although, he would smile at me now and again. I knew he'd been too busy to go to Four Doors, let alone track down Himeno. But the two evenings they did have together apparently were enough to keep him humming. I'd been caught stealing cereal twice and he hadn't even blinked. I like the more agreeable Hayate.
And if that isn't enough to convince you that something was different, I wandered into the living room once to find him watching-not the news-but instead Hayate was actually laughing along to that ridiculous impromptu comedy show.
So I am pretty happy stopping by Four Doors early. I wave at Sanosuke Sagara, a tall and athletic fellow, who's polishing up the sound equipment. Our friendly neighborhood bar hardly ever hosts live music because of the strange crowds that seem to gather, but since it's Duo and Kazuma they've relaxed a bit.
"I've never seen Kazuma this happy before." Sano fills me in, holding back his bush of thick brown hair from his forehead with one boyish paw, "And of course, Duo's a top rate player. I might have to stick around before heading back over to Transylvania."
"Transyl-where?" I say, momentarily flustered.
"Transylvanian Concubine," Sano chuckles, "I'd dare say it isn't your speed, Keisuke-kun. But I typically entertain myself there on weekends. I'm helping with the stage for a band there tonight as well."
"I hope people come tonight." I feel my brow tightening, hoping for Duo's first show that he should have a good turn out.
"Don't worry," Sano studies his handiwork proudly, "I got to hear them warm up before I made these last changes. Word'll get around, and I'll be surprised if T.C. doesn't try to lure these musicians over there at some point."
They've put away the pool table who knows where and set back the tables a bit to make way for an impromptu stage in one corner. It seems like the group is smaller tonight still, keyboard and saxophone only.
I take a seat at a table in the front. Along the side, so I can lean against the pole that divides the booths against the wall. Duo must be in some backroom, ever now and again I can hear him say something excitedly.
"Thanks for coming."
I feel a bit of an unwelcome shiver down my spine as I hear Sasame's velvety voice slip next to me. Of course, he would be there. "Hi, of course." I say, my voice sounds helpless and sharp. I try to temper it and then sound oddly cold, "How are you?"
"Nervous." He breathes a laugh, smiling warmly behind those frameless glasses he has perched on his nose. His smile is relaxing, but my body can't decide whether or not to trust him. He's very pretty to look at, but I also remember how hopeful Hayate has been. And that Hayate sees this man as some sort of rival.
Not that he's ever told me why. Or how.
The way he almost taps the tabletop anxiously makes me want to sympathize, almost. "Nervous is understandable for them," I wave my hand toward the last direction from which I heard Duo's chortle, "So why are you worried?"
"Reflex, I guess." Sasame guards himself more closely, pulling his fingers in together. Not letting any of them reveal the pressure he apparently is feeling, "I should be used to having things taken away from me. That's probably why I said nervous."
I open my mouth to say more, when I have something dangling in front of it. My eyes cross and I see that it's a well set necklace with more diamonds than I can count while it's spinning inches in front of my face.
"Isn't it pretty?" I recognize Himeno's voice.
"For me?" I say loudly, jokingly. Turning to see our favorite Tulip-head pout a little under that crazy hair-cut.
"Please, Keisuke," She's only pretending, as she accidentally slips into a scowl and rolls her eyes. She moves to sit in the chair opposite from me, so I turn back in my seat to face her properly. She's wearing a tasteless yellow shirt with green patches on the sleeves, but when I look back at Sasame, he's melting. Something about this tomboyish woman-child has enchanted my roommate, and the spell seems to have cast itself onto the respectable Sasame as well. I hadn't seen it's handiwork so focused on the silver-haired gentleman before and found it interesting to see him so intoxicated.
"Do you like it?" Sasame says, and I see that Himeno herself was not immune to charms. Almost unconsciously, her soft cheeks were turning pink under his close observation. His comment was almost too much.
She nods with a murmur that meant yes, reaching back to fix the extravagant jewelry around her neck. It's a terrible contrast to her casual clothes, but her eyes are vibrantly pleased.
"I'm glad you could make it."
"I'm glad you asked me."
I'm about to barf all over the table. Current cute behavior, or not . . . Himeno's supposed to be falling for my roommate. And what's Sasame doing calling her and making such specific invitations? I'm dreaming up some clever comment to remind everyone about my roommate, when I feel my knees turn to jelly and my heart leap to attention in my throat, choking off all comments.
"Can I sit with you?"
Dammit, I've got to stop having these reactions around Sorata. And he's got to stop whispering things like that into my ear. I reach up and press firmly against my ear, which still tingles and vibrates with the memory of the sensation of his breath.
"Sorata!" Himeno scolds, "You shouldn't scare Keisuke like that." At least she's laughing and thinking about something else.
"Aw," Sorata whines a little, and pulls up a chair so he's at the end of the table next to myself and Himeno. "I've been doing things like this for years, I'd say Keisuke's used to me by now."
I wonder what would happen if I said aloud that I'll never get used to him. That he continues to amaze me every time I see him. But that's a little melodramatic, even for me. And I'd never say it when I still most assuredly mean every word.
Himeno smiles happily, as if being the center of attention with a bunch of boys is an every day experience for her. Which, when I think about it, probably is true. Besides Dorothy, Aya introduced her to a group of bachelors. Clever girl. She puts one of her hands out to cover Sorata's and leans toward him holding out her necklace. So that when Sorata's examining it he's almost leaning into her chest and . . .
Alright, now I'm jealous.
But the snide comments in my throat are thankfully adverted again as the little ragtag group of performers come from the back room. We've come early enough to hear them warm up on the adjusted equipment, and I'm distracted from them to see Sano leaning against the bar flirting with Imari who's appeared from somewhere. There's a thought, while I'm playing matchmaker I might as well set Sano on a feisty woman like Imari and Sorata will be safely single when all is said and done.
"An audience of three?" Duo sounds hurt, but his presentation is so thick we all know it's a sham, "Sasame you promised us three hundred."
"Get drunk enough and your vision will multiply us into masses for ya,"
Sorata laughs at his own joke as we hear Kazuma repeat, "No drinking for the performers."
"Gotcha." Duo's fingers play a scale so swiftly he's done before we see him start.
Kazuma's leaning over the keyboard talking to the woman playing for them. Kazuma's just a bit more than a kid. Closer to Himeno's age. Best guess, I'd say twenty-three. With impossibly blond hair that never reveals that it was dyed, the fellow is marvelously straightforward and genuinely sweet. Along with his thoughtfulness, Kazuma had an amazing memory that not only gave him perfect pitch, but back when he was our regular waiter he never had to ask what we wanted to drink. I'd always have my beer waiting for me once I arrived.
The keyboardist I don't recognize. She's the kid's age, with long black hair and a chilly look. I'd say, professional or prissy. Maybe both.
While they rehearse, Imari offers to get us drinks. And whatever it was he said to her, she can't seem to get back to chat again with Sanosuke soon enough.
It's all right for some, but not all right for me when the one that I'm loving can't be found. The city where we live might be quite large but the circle is small, why not tell us all and then all of us will know.
The crowds picked up, the music is lively, and although we can all see the shine of sweat beginning on Duo's brow, even Dorothy admits that our friend has never looked happier. Imari drops another beer in front of me and says excited, "Tips tonight are great!" Then she's off again.
Sano hasn't slipped off to T.C. as quickly as he predicted, and Imari's good humor is just growing to make it a pleasant evening all around.
A few of the older folks and regulars tire of the show and slip out early leaving us with a herd of strangers. But the vibrancy of it all is exciting. On the other end, a young group has started some exuberant dancing. And even when Kazuma's voice slips into a more ballad like tune, they continue to move almost like one.
"Want to dance?"
Himeno's not the only one caught off guard. Sorata, next to me, seems a bit caught off guard as well. We're not usually part of the dancing crowd. Sasame stands.
"S-sure."
I wonder what I could have said to stop them, but our cool companion has taken Himeno's hand and pulled them out of our sight in a matter of moments.
"Does he like her?" Sorata says, swinging around me to take Sasame's empty seat right next to me for a better look.
I don't know what to say.
"Cause, I was almost certain it looked like some sort of sparks were flying between Hayate and her a few days ago. But I'm often mistaken about those sorts of things."
Exactly right, I think. Remembering Sorata's rash comment about Sylvia. I haven't set him right about that yet. But he's wrapping his arm around me in a painfully brotherly way, leaning back to admire the performance and I'm not sure if I want to jeopardize moments like this.
No matter what Dorothy said.
"You look cozy."
Speaking of Dorothy, Sorata's arm is suddenly back where it began and I'm spinning in my seat. Although it's no wonder that we didn't hear her come back to the table, since Duo's piping so strong on that saxophone right now Kazuma's stopped singing to let Duo steal the song.
Next to Dorothy, who's not smiling herself but looking smug nonetheless, is my roommate. Hayate came.
Damn it.
I'm really wishing I had said something to someone earlier. Done something, besides debating how far I could lean into Sorata before he thought anything of it.
Now wishing I could do something before Hayate saw anything of it.
Too late.
"So where's Himeno?"
Then the glowering began. And I can't rightly say that I wasn't annoyed by it myself.
Before I could gloss it over, before I could prepare him at all. Sorata had laughed aloud and pointed to the masses. That charming laugh, one short bark and I wanted to wilt as Hayate's almost smile dissolved completely. Sorata might almost achieve sensitivity, but then things like this happen . . .
What amazes me still, is that Hayate didn't say anything. He didn't excuse himself to interrupt the dance. He didn't even look that way. Instead, Hayate unknowingly takes Himeno's old seat, not looking at me, and lets his wayward black hair hide his eyes again.
Dummy. Does he expect me to fix everything for him? And then, I wonder if that's the problem. He doesn't expect the problem to ever get fixed. And no one, himself least of all, was expected to interfere.
It's all right for some, but not all right for me when the one that I'm loving slips around. You think it's fine to do things I cannot see and you're doing it to me. Can't you see that I know how it is.
After the show, after hasty congratulations and hasty good-byes, I follow Hayate's fast exit home. Reluctant to leave, and giving Sorata the excuse that I'd had a few less than Hayate and wanted to make sure he stayed in the right lane all the way home.
"Call me," Sorata says, feeling my hurry and giving no further explanation. But I'm gone so quickly, I hardly have time to enjoy even that familiar invitation.
I tap my thumbs against the steering wheel nervously. He has to know I'm right behind him. He's going to kill me. He's going to ask me why I didn't interfere. Why didn't I interrupt the dance myself? Why didn't I buy Himeno a string of dancers the way that Duo and I used to buy her a string of drinks and say they were from various men in the bar?
And of course, I was distracted with the suddenly snuggly Sorata.
It's at this point I decide slamming my head into the steering wheel isn't really helping matters, and we're close enough to home that I'll get to hear all of it right from Hayate himself.
Except, as I skip up the stairs behind him and stick out a foot to catch the doors before they close and I finally close the last door behind me, panting slightly, I realize that Hayate isn't going to say anything. He isn't going to blame me, after all.
He's going to blame himself.
Dammit, this is bad. Martyr complex rears it's ugly head, and I, Keisuke Yuuki can't seem to ever get it to go back into it's cave by myself. I've tried before.
But this time it's different.
This time, Hayate's frozen in the middle of the living room staring at the wall. Staring at that watercolor.
And as he falls to his knees before it, like an altar. A futile, wasted gesture.
I feel tears myself.
"Hayate . . ." I start, choking a little. Damn it, Hayate. Stop crying or I'll never get through this myself. "Why . . . don't let this little thing make you so upset. Hayate, stop."
I reach for the lamp, to add a bit more light than the constant glow of the fish tank Hayate finally let me bring home.
"Don't." He says roughly, "Don't worry about me. Stop trying to make things right for me. I don't need your help."
"That's just it," I say, rather miserably, "I didn't do anything. I was distracted and I didn't think . . ."
"You don't usually think much when Sorata's around." Hayate says, the bitter edge cutting.
"I-I," my heart is hammering, "I don't know what to say to that."
"Forget I said that." He almost takes it back, but the air is ringing thick with what he has already said. If I hadn't, if I hadn't been preoccupied, distracted. Maybe I could have prevented some of this. But if I had stopped the dancing and the flirting, what about the necklace?
"I can't be everywhere at once." I say aloud, instantly wishing I could take it back. "Forget I said that." I stammer immediately.
Hayate almost laughs. It's a scary sound. "We're a couple of fools, Keisuke, my boy. We just don't take what we want."
"It's not that easy." I argue.
"Ah, but it is." Hayate's voice turns cold, "For some people."
All it takes some times is a little brooding room and you realize what it was you were missing.
Whatever the ultimate outcome, take what ever you can get in the meantime.
Now I've got a place, got a worried face and the question in mind. Please let me find a reason somehow. Why some reap the harvest while other men die? I've got one life to live and that's all I can give, so don't beat me down
Well, it worked when Dorothy cheered me up. But for some reason, I'm having second thoughts myself, even as I eagerly encourage Hayate toward the forbidding thuds of consistent bass resounding from the doors of the entrance way to the Transylvanian Concubine.
"What is this place?" Hayate says, the astonishment on his face makes me want to laugh, and that emotion is making it easier for me to hide my own nervousness.
I can't believe he agreed to come.
"This is where I go, when I want to disappear for a while." I explain, "It has this ability to enchant you with invisibility while you drink away your worries and nobody knows your name."
"Sounds good," Hayata says with his game face on. I'm surprised again, but Hayate pushes around me to let himself in. All I have to do is follow. But if it'll make him happy, make him forget for a while . . .
He's dressed for the occasion. Dark blue shirt, darker jeans. And the way that his hair swings loose until harnessed by a simple tie near the end. Some guys God just made too pretty.
And he's causing a few heads to turn. I skip forward a step, trying to keep from imagining how simple I must appear next to someone like Hayate. "Hayate," I say close to his ear, trying to be heard over the music, "Let's go upstairs and get a drink or something."
"Sure," Hayate shrugs, but actually smiles. The T.C. atmosphere granting him security which he seems to be accepting. I hope that means it's comforting. Just for a while. Just until he can regain some of that confidence.
As we worm our way toward the staircase, I'm eager to show him my favorite perch which at a glance seems to be open, I find someone pulling on my arm. Glancing back I find the beaming face of Sanosuke Sagara.
"Came to hear this band?" He tosses his hair in one direction, but with the steady movement of bodies and dancers on this floor, I can't really see the group.
"I can certainly *hear* them!" I bellow, to be heard. Sano smiles around the toothpick he's chewing. It's then I notice that he's flanked by our red-headed waitress. "Imari!" I shout in greeting, smiling largely so she'll know that I'm happy to see her.
"Hi." She mouths. Of course, Four Doors closes early enough for her to get a few hours in here with her new love interest if she wants to.
"I brought Hayate with me." I glance around, trying to find my roommate.
"There." Sanosuke points. And I turn around completely to see that Hayate's been pulled quite willingly into the dancers. He has no fewer than three girls who've taken a sudden interest in him. I cross my arms in mock disgust. Figures.
Well, I figure I can at least get a few decent drinks in before rounding Hayate up and calling it an evening. A morning, I correct myself, almost giggling with relief. Let Hayate enjoy this place for a moment, then go back to Himeno with new confidence. It's all confidence.
I make my way up the stairs to find my table already occupied.
"Is he the one who brings you here?"
"Brings me here?" I say, wonderingly. "I brought *him* here." I take a seat. Besides, what would this place be without beautiful Mr. Perfect Abs to chat with.
"He's not special?" His dark brows rise with the inquiry, or perhaps he's curious about the stupid, satisfied grin that I know is inching across my face.
"Not special. He's my roommate." I shrug, "I brought him here to relax a bit. He's having girl problems."
"He doesn't seem to have any problems with girls." He nods toward Hayate who seems to have settled for a dance with a tall woman with curly brown hair. She seems to have a finesse to her enthusiastic movements that matches Hayate's own elegance.
"I just want him to enjoy himself for a while."
"How about yourself?" He had sent a waitress away for my usual drink which came with unexpected suddenness. I take it happily.
"No plans." I remember Sorata's invitation wistfully, "So I'll just watch out for Hayate and usher him home whenever he's ready."
I'm a bit unsettled by how fiercely this guy's looking at me, he doesn't seem angry, but . . . "What's the matter?" I ask, openly.
"You're so . . . compassionate." His voice is strangely deeper than his casual tone for general teasing.
"Compassionate?" I laugh, "Right, thanks." I'm caught off guard by that as well.
"You, someone like you . . ." His brows are pulled together, and he looks down to the side with a serious expression rather than his typically humorous glances. The lights play off his features and reflect familiarly off the crimson stripe I can see nearest me.
"Me?" I repeat, feeling somewhat silly and take a drink trying to spot Hayate.
It's when I turn back that things get a bit . . . confusing. I'd just taken a swallow and was about to say . . . something. Something vague and witty and conversational, when I first notice that he's not sitting across from me. That he's not sitting. That he's right there, leaning by me. Taking his hand from the table.
"What's your name?" I hear him say while his eyes are strikingly close.
"Keisu-Keisuke . . ." I say almost against my will, while his fingers meet my cheek. And I can't move.
Because when I close my eyes, he's kissing me.
I can see it in your eyes and feel it in the way you kiss my lips.
I can hear it in your voice whenever we are talking just like this.
I can see the way you look when his name is mentioned and I die.
I can watch the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you close your eyes.
I can see it in your eyes and feel it in the way you kiss my lips.
I can hear it in your voice whenever we are talking like this...
tbc
(Disclaimer: Chapter 7 of an ongoing crossover with characters from Pretear, Utena, Gundam Wing, X 1999 and narrated by Keisuke from Fushigi Yugi. Consequently, the story is also alternate reality-putting them in the contemporary world, most of them in their late twenties. All that being said, the characters are respectfully borrowed from their original creators. The lyrics, from Gordon Lightfoot's songs "Don't Beat Me Down" and "The Circle is Small." The details, insightful, ingenious or flawed- those I claim. Enjoy.)
***
All it takes some times is a little brooding room and you realize what it was you were missing.
I remember being in about third grade and terrorizing Miaka during a long car ride home from somewhere. My poor mother. Anyway, I'm sure Miaka was holding her own just fine, but, being oldest, the burden of responsibility was assigned to me. I was the only one promised some form of punishment when we got home.
I remember being absolutely infuriated. All the way to the local DQ. So when Mom pulled in, parked and offered to buy us ice cream. I'd crossed my arms stubbornly and stayed put in the back seat.
Until five minutes later, I realized she hadn't exactly ~excluded~ me from the treat.
And then I learned the lesson. Whatever the ultimate outcome, take what all you can get in the meantime. Because if life is going to suck, you might as well get a free ice cream out of it.
And that's why I'm driving right past the Transylvanian Concubine this night. I finally figured out what I was missing. So blue bowling shirt and awkward smile, I'm going to ignore everything else, go back to Four Doors and so to find my consolation.
If Hayate shows, he might need me. While my friend is becoming more open, he's also leaving himself wildly vulnerable.
And, besides, that's where Sorata should be.
When I was a youth, I found the truth in the eyes of a friend. There wasn't anyone could make the light dim. And we talked and we rambled and we gambled to win, and the learning was good.
Glancing around the establishment, I feel the comfort settling over me like a second skin. Not anything to make me invisible or different, just more me. The me that belonged there. Two older women were crowding the jukebox, which was playing Elvis again. Just beyond them, I could make out Dorothy's flash of pale blonde hair as she strolled around to the other side of the pool table. I didn't recognize her opponent, but apparently tonight she was open to challenges. Or Himeno wasn't there.
"Hey gorgeous!"
Forgive me if I almost stumble. I am used to that being Duo's line. Or even the striking stranger from the T.C. But . . .
"Sorata?" I choke, still managing one foot in front of the other.
"We haven't seen you in a few days. Everything okay?" His eyes, narrow, brown, are suddenly fixed on my own. Leaning in closer.
"Give him some space," Duo's chuckle interferes with my astonishment. "You should be one to talk, Arisugawa. Keisuke doesn't show up for a few nights, we imagine he's drinking beers at home. You on the other hand," Duo pulls back on Sorata's shoulder and looking past our mutual friend, winks at me, "Have a bit of explaining to do yourself."
"I wasn't giving Keisuke a hard time, was I?" Sorata smiles, broadly but a bit fearful of Duo's prying. His arm is draping itself around my shoulder. Corralling me to the booth they had been using, the evidence empty bottles waiting for replacement. Hmm, he smells good. Like some sort of brisk aftershave our Sorata would normally scorn.
Duo glances at me skeptically, as if he can hardly believe that I'm letting Sorata off the hook. But if I keep Sorata safe, then I don't have to answer his questions either. And I don't have to hear Sorata's answers.
"Small crowd?" I say taking my seat in the corner, letting Sorata bully himself in next to me with a playful shove. If I didn't know better, I'd say he had missed me.
"Just us," Duo casually tips his head to the side, "and Dorothy. She's facing off with sunglasses boy tonight."
"I wear my sunglasses at night . . ." Sorata starts to sing in a falsetto, and he usually has such a nice voice. I snicker.
"Well dark shades or not," Duo leans forward over his crossed arms, as if letting us in on a secret and his eyes sparkle, "He's giving Dorothy a run for her money. She's so sexy under pressure."
"We wouldn't know." I say solemnly, indicating Sorata and myself with a pointing finger. It's almost a relief when the waitress comes back with their second round. It takes me a moment to recognize her.
"Thanks, Imari," Sorata takes his briskly and leans away from her in an exaggerated way that we all notice. The red-headed woman raises an eyebrow, then glances at me funny.
"Do you want something?"
"Oh, just the same." I wave at Sorata's beer. Which makes her stare at me even more. Am I missing something?
"Wow." Duo breathes when Imari turns smartly and hurries back to the bar, "She's changed fast from a moment ago." Then casting a fleeting glance toward me, he accuses, "Spill, Sorata. What just happened?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." Sorata shrugs with an exaggerated lift of his shoulders, which he holds a moment until he realizes that Duo's not buying.
"You must think we're blind." Duo's eyes opened a bit wider, "She's carrying a torch for you?"
"No, no, no!" Sorata backpedals wildly, letting facts slip intentionally or not in his defense, "She just took me boating Monday night since we had some mutual friend, and she took my water skiing suggestions badly and we didn't have much in common except beer and . . ."
"Well, that's all you have in common with us." I say lightly, trying to give Sorata some safe space to come back too while Duo's wolfish grin spread more thickly.
"Now we know that Sorata was on a date," Duo spins his head toward me so quickly, I can hear his bones snap-I think. Sorata's protesting the terminology of "date," but Duo continues, "Where were you, Keisuke?"
"At home drinking beer," I laugh, trying to seem amiable, "And I was with all of you at the picnic."
"But last night and last . . ."
"Scoot over."
God bless Dorothy. Whatever she wants. Put it on my tab.
She came in time to save me from the budding interrogation, distracting us all just as Imari set down my beer and some more colorful thing that Dorothy starts in on right away.
We're all saved.
I bump shoulders with Sorata now and again throughout the evening. He's still there. All is right with the world. Come what may, and all that jazz.
And if powers that be take a liking to us, then we all must return to the ways of a child. We all must return to the ways of a child.
Speaking of jazz, it was only a matter of time before Duo tracked down our old Four Doors buddy and initiated partnership in a musical endeavor. Which was how I ended up at Four Doors early that next Saturday.
Hayate and I had been like passing ships. Although, he would smile at me now and again. I knew he'd been too busy to go to Four Doors, let alone track down Himeno. But the two evenings they did have together apparently were enough to keep him humming. I'd been caught stealing cereal twice and he hadn't even blinked. I like the more agreeable Hayate.
And if that isn't enough to convince you that something was different, I wandered into the living room once to find him watching-not the news-but instead Hayate was actually laughing along to that ridiculous impromptu comedy show.
So I am pretty happy stopping by Four Doors early. I wave at Sanosuke Sagara, a tall and athletic fellow, who's polishing up the sound equipment. Our friendly neighborhood bar hardly ever hosts live music because of the strange crowds that seem to gather, but since it's Duo and Kazuma they've relaxed a bit.
"I've never seen Kazuma this happy before." Sano fills me in, holding back his bush of thick brown hair from his forehead with one boyish paw, "And of course, Duo's a top rate player. I might have to stick around before heading back over to Transylvania."
"Transyl-where?" I say, momentarily flustered.
"Transylvanian Concubine," Sano chuckles, "I'd dare say it isn't your speed, Keisuke-kun. But I typically entertain myself there on weekends. I'm helping with the stage for a band there tonight as well."
"I hope people come tonight." I feel my brow tightening, hoping for Duo's first show that he should have a good turn out.
"Don't worry," Sano studies his handiwork proudly, "I got to hear them warm up before I made these last changes. Word'll get around, and I'll be surprised if T.C. doesn't try to lure these musicians over there at some point."
They've put away the pool table who knows where and set back the tables a bit to make way for an impromptu stage in one corner. It seems like the group is smaller tonight still, keyboard and saxophone only.
I take a seat at a table in the front. Along the side, so I can lean against the pole that divides the booths against the wall. Duo must be in some backroom, ever now and again I can hear him say something excitedly.
"Thanks for coming."
I feel a bit of an unwelcome shiver down my spine as I hear Sasame's velvety voice slip next to me. Of course, he would be there. "Hi, of course." I say, my voice sounds helpless and sharp. I try to temper it and then sound oddly cold, "How are you?"
"Nervous." He breathes a laugh, smiling warmly behind those frameless glasses he has perched on his nose. His smile is relaxing, but my body can't decide whether or not to trust him. He's very pretty to look at, but I also remember how hopeful Hayate has been. And that Hayate sees this man as some sort of rival.
Not that he's ever told me why. Or how.
The way he almost taps the tabletop anxiously makes me want to sympathize, almost. "Nervous is understandable for them," I wave my hand toward the last direction from which I heard Duo's chortle, "So why are you worried?"
"Reflex, I guess." Sasame guards himself more closely, pulling his fingers in together. Not letting any of them reveal the pressure he apparently is feeling, "I should be used to having things taken away from me. That's probably why I said nervous."
I open my mouth to say more, when I have something dangling in front of it. My eyes cross and I see that it's a well set necklace with more diamonds than I can count while it's spinning inches in front of my face.
"Isn't it pretty?" I recognize Himeno's voice.
"For me?" I say loudly, jokingly. Turning to see our favorite Tulip-head pout a little under that crazy hair-cut.
"Please, Keisuke," She's only pretending, as she accidentally slips into a scowl and rolls her eyes. She moves to sit in the chair opposite from me, so I turn back in my seat to face her properly. She's wearing a tasteless yellow shirt with green patches on the sleeves, but when I look back at Sasame, he's melting. Something about this tomboyish woman-child has enchanted my roommate, and the spell seems to have cast itself onto the respectable Sasame as well. I hadn't seen it's handiwork so focused on the silver-haired gentleman before and found it interesting to see him so intoxicated.
"Do you like it?" Sasame says, and I see that Himeno herself was not immune to charms. Almost unconsciously, her soft cheeks were turning pink under his close observation. His comment was almost too much.
She nods with a murmur that meant yes, reaching back to fix the extravagant jewelry around her neck. It's a terrible contrast to her casual clothes, but her eyes are vibrantly pleased.
"I'm glad you could make it."
"I'm glad you asked me."
I'm about to barf all over the table. Current cute behavior, or not . . . Himeno's supposed to be falling for my roommate. And what's Sasame doing calling her and making such specific invitations? I'm dreaming up some clever comment to remind everyone about my roommate, when I feel my knees turn to jelly and my heart leap to attention in my throat, choking off all comments.
"Can I sit with you?"
Dammit, I've got to stop having these reactions around Sorata. And he's got to stop whispering things like that into my ear. I reach up and press firmly against my ear, which still tingles and vibrates with the memory of the sensation of his breath.
"Sorata!" Himeno scolds, "You shouldn't scare Keisuke like that." At least she's laughing and thinking about something else.
"Aw," Sorata whines a little, and pulls up a chair so he's at the end of the table next to myself and Himeno. "I've been doing things like this for years, I'd say Keisuke's used to me by now."
I wonder what would happen if I said aloud that I'll never get used to him. That he continues to amaze me every time I see him. But that's a little melodramatic, even for me. And I'd never say it when I still most assuredly mean every word.
Himeno smiles happily, as if being the center of attention with a bunch of boys is an every day experience for her. Which, when I think about it, probably is true. Besides Dorothy, Aya introduced her to a group of bachelors. Clever girl. She puts one of her hands out to cover Sorata's and leans toward him holding out her necklace. So that when Sorata's examining it he's almost leaning into her chest and . . .
Alright, now I'm jealous.
But the snide comments in my throat are thankfully adverted again as the little ragtag group of performers come from the back room. We've come early enough to hear them warm up on the adjusted equipment, and I'm distracted from them to see Sano leaning against the bar flirting with Imari who's appeared from somewhere. There's a thought, while I'm playing matchmaker I might as well set Sano on a feisty woman like Imari and Sorata will be safely single when all is said and done.
"An audience of three?" Duo sounds hurt, but his presentation is so thick we all know it's a sham, "Sasame you promised us three hundred."
"Get drunk enough and your vision will multiply us into masses for ya,"
Sorata laughs at his own joke as we hear Kazuma repeat, "No drinking for the performers."
"Gotcha." Duo's fingers play a scale so swiftly he's done before we see him start.
Kazuma's leaning over the keyboard talking to the woman playing for them. Kazuma's just a bit more than a kid. Closer to Himeno's age. Best guess, I'd say twenty-three. With impossibly blond hair that never reveals that it was dyed, the fellow is marvelously straightforward and genuinely sweet. Along with his thoughtfulness, Kazuma had an amazing memory that not only gave him perfect pitch, but back when he was our regular waiter he never had to ask what we wanted to drink. I'd always have my beer waiting for me once I arrived.
The keyboardist I don't recognize. She's the kid's age, with long black hair and a chilly look. I'd say, professional or prissy. Maybe both.
While they rehearse, Imari offers to get us drinks. And whatever it was he said to her, she can't seem to get back to chat again with Sanosuke soon enough.
It's all right for some, but not all right for me when the one that I'm loving can't be found. The city where we live might be quite large but the circle is small, why not tell us all and then all of us will know.
The crowds picked up, the music is lively, and although we can all see the shine of sweat beginning on Duo's brow, even Dorothy admits that our friend has never looked happier. Imari drops another beer in front of me and says excited, "Tips tonight are great!" Then she's off again.
Sano hasn't slipped off to T.C. as quickly as he predicted, and Imari's good humor is just growing to make it a pleasant evening all around.
A few of the older folks and regulars tire of the show and slip out early leaving us with a herd of strangers. But the vibrancy of it all is exciting. On the other end, a young group has started some exuberant dancing. And even when Kazuma's voice slips into a more ballad like tune, they continue to move almost like one.
"Want to dance?"
Himeno's not the only one caught off guard. Sorata, next to me, seems a bit caught off guard as well. We're not usually part of the dancing crowd. Sasame stands.
"S-sure."
I wonder what I could have said to stop them, but our cool companion has taken Himeno's hand and pulled them out of our sight in a matter of moments.
"Does he like her?" Sorata says, swinging around me to take Sasame's empty seat right next to me for a better look.
I don't know what to say.
"Cause, I was almost certain it looked like some sort of sparks were flying between Hayate and her a few days ago. But I'm often mistaken about those sorts of things."
Exactly right, I think. Remembering Sorata's rash comment about Sylvia. I haven't set him right about that yet. But he's wrapping his arm around me in a painfully brotherly way, leaning back to admire the performance and I'm not sure if I want to jeopardize moments like this.
No matter what Dorothy said.
"You look cozy."
Speaking of Dorothy, Sorata's arm is suddenly back where it began and I'm spinning in my seat. Although it's no wonder that we didn't hear her come back to the table, since Duo's piping so strong on that saxophone right now Kazuma's stopped singing to let Duo steal the song.
Next to Dorothy, who's not smiling herself but looking smug nonetheless, is my roommate. Hayate came.
Damn it.
I'm really wishing I had said something to someone earlier. Done something, besides debating how far I could lean into Sorata before he thought anything of it.
Now wishing I could do something before Hayate saw anything of it.
Too late.
"So where's Himeno?"
Then the glowering began. And I can't rightly say that I wasn't annoyed by it myself.
Before I could gloss it over, before I could prepare him at all. Sorata had laughed aloud and pointed to the masses. That charming laugh, one short bark and I wanted to wilt as Hayate's almost smile dissolved completely. Sorata might almost achieve sensitivity, but then things like this happen . . .
What amazes me still, is that Hayate didn't say anything. He didn't excuse himself to interrupt the dance. He didn't even look that way. Instead, Hayate unknowingly takes Himeno's old seat, not looking at me, and lets his wayward black hair hide his eyes again.
Dummy. Does he expect me to fix everything for him? And then, I wonder if that's the problem. He doesn't expect the problem to ever get fixed. And no one, himself least of all, was expected to interfere.
It's all right for some, but not all right for me when the one that I'm loving slips around. You think it's fine to do things I cannot see and you're doing it to me. Can't you see that I know how it is.
After the show, after hasty congratulations and hasty good-byes, I follow Hayate's fast exit home. Reluctant to leave, and giving Sorata the excuse that I'd had a few less than Hayate and wanted to make sure he stayed in the right lane all the way home.
"Call me," Sorata says, feeling my hurry and giving no further explanation. But I'm gone so quickly, I hardly have time to enjoy even that familiar invitation.
I tap my thumbs against the steering wheel nervously. He has to know I'm right behind him. He's going to kill me. He's going to ask me why I didn't interfere. Why didn't I interrupt the dance myself? Why didn't I buy Himeno a string of dancers the way that Duo and I used to buy her a string of drinks and say they were from various men in the bar?
And of course, I was distracted with the suddenly snuggly Sorata.
It's at this point I decide slamming my head into the steering wheel isn't really helping matters, and we're close enough to home that I'll get to hear all of it right from Hayate himself.
Except, as I skip up the stairs behind him and stick out a foot to catch the doors before they close and I finally close the last door behind me, panting slightly, I realize that Hayate isn't going to say anything. He isn't going to blame me, after all.
He's going to blame himself.
Dammit, this is bad. Martyr complex rears it's ugly head, and I, Keisuke Yuuki can't seem to ever get it to go back into it's cave by myself. I've tried before.
But this time it's different.
This time, Hayate's frozen in the middle of the living room staring at the wall. Staring at that watercolor.
And as he falls to his knees before it, like an altar. A futile, wasted gesture.
I feel tears myself.
"Hayate . . ." I start, choking a little. Damn it, Hayate. Stop crying or I'll never get through this myself. "Why . . . don't let this little thing make you so upset. Hayate, stop."
I reach for the lamp, to add a bit more light than the constant glow of the fish tank Hayate finally let me bring home.
"Don't." He says roughly, "Don't worry about me. Stop trying to make things right for me. I don't need your help."
"That's just it," I say, rather miserably, "I didn't do anything. I was distracted and I didn't think . . ."
"You don't usually think much when Sorata's around." Hayate says, the bitter edge cutting.
"I-I," my heart is hammering, "I don't know what to say to that."
"Forget I said that." He almost takes it back, but the air is ringing thick with what he has already said. If I hadn't, if I hadn't been preoccupied, distracted. Maybe I could have prevented some of this. But if I had stopped the dancing and the flirting, what about the necklace?
"I can't be everywhere at once." I say aloud, instantly wishing I could take it back. "Forget I said that." I stammer immediately.
Hayate almost laughs. It's a scary sound. "We're a couple of fools, Keisuke, my boy. We just don't take what we want."
"It's not that easy." I argue.
"Ah, but it is." Hayate's voice turns cold, "For some people."
All it takes some times is a little brooding room and you realize what it was you were missing.
Whatever the ultimate outcome, take what ever you can get in the meantime.
Now I've got a place, got a worried face and the question in mind. Please let me find a reason somehow. Why some reap the harvest while other men die? I've got one life to live and that's all I can give, so don't beat me down
Well, it worked when Dorothy cheered me up. But for some reason, I'm having second thoughts myself, even as I eagerly encourage Hayate toward the forbidding thuds of consistent bass resounding from the doors of the entrance way to the Transylvanian Concubine.
"What is this place?" Hayate says, the astonishment on his face makes me want to laugh, and that emotion is making it easier for me to hide my own nervousness.
I can't believe he agreed to come.
"This is where I go, when I want to disappear for a while." I explain, "It has this ability to enchant you with invisibility while you drink away your worries and nobody knows your name."
"Sounds good," Hayata says with his game face on. I'm surprised again, but Hayate pushes around me to let himself in. All I have to do is follow. But if it'll make him happy, make him forget for a while . . .
He's dressed for the occasion. Dark blue shirt, darker jeans. And the way that his hair swings loose until harnessed by a simple tie near the end. Some guys God just made too pretty.
And he's causing a few heads to turn. I skip forward a step, trying to keep from imagining how simple I must appear next to someone like Hayate. "Hayate," I say close to his ear, trying to be heard over the music, "Let's go upstairs and get a drink or something."
"Sure," Hayate shrugs, but actually smiles. The T.C. atmosphere granting him security which he seems to be accepting. I hope that means it's comforting. Just for a while. Just until he can regain some of that confidence.
As we worm our way toward the staircase, I'm eager to show him my favorite perch which at a glance seems to be open, I find someone pulling on my arm. Glancing back I find the beaming face of Sanosuke Sagara.
"Came to hear this band?" He tosses his hair in one direction, but with the steady movement of bodies and dancers on this floor, I can't really see the group.
"I can certainly *hear* them!" I bellow, to be heard. Sano smiles around the toothpick he's chewing. It's then I notice that he's flanked by our red-headed waitress. "Imari!" I shout in greeting, smiling largely so she'll know that I'm happy to see her.
"Hi." She mouths. Of course, Four Doors closes early enough for her to get a few hours in here with her new love interest if she wants to.
"I brought Hayate with me." I glance around, trying to find my roommate.
"There." Sanosuke points. And I turn around completely to see that Hayate's been pulled quite willingly into the dancers. He has no fewer than three girls who've taken a sudden interest in him. I cross my arms in mock disgust. Figures.
Well, I figure I can at least get a few decent drinks in before rounding Hayate up and calling it an evening. A morning, I correct myself, almost giggling with relief. Let Hayate enjoy this place for a moment, then go back to Himeno with new confidence. It's all confidence.
I make my way up the stairs to find my table already occupied.
"Is he the one who brings you here?"
"Brings me here?" I say, wonderingly. "I brought *him* here." I take a seat. Besides, what would this place be without beautiful Mr. Perfect Abs to chat with.
"He's not special?" His dark brows rise with the inquiry, or perhaps he's curious about the stupid, satisfied grin that I know is inching across my face.
"Not special. He's my roommate." I shrug, "I brought him here to relax a bit. He's having girl problems."
"He doesn't seem to have any problems with girls." He nods toward Hayate who seems to have settled for a dance with a tall woman with curly brown hair. She seems to have a finesse to her enthusiastic movements that matches Hayate's own elegance.
"I just want him to enjoy himself for a while."
"How about yourself?" He had sent a waitress away for my usual drink which came with unexpected suddenness. I take it happily.
"No plans." I remember Sorata's invitation wistfully, "So I'll just watch out for Hayate and usher him home whenever he's ready."
I'm a bit unsettled by how fiercely this guy's looking at me, he doesn't seem angry, but . . . "What's the matter?" I ask, openly.
"You're so . . . compassionate." His voice is strangely deeper than his casual tone for general teasing.
"Compassionate?" I laugh, "Right, thanks." I'm caught off guard by that as well.
"You, someone like you . . ." His brows are pulled together, and he looks down to the side with a serious expression rather than his typically humorous glances. The lights play off his features and reflect familiarly off the crimson stripe I can see nearest me.
"Me?" I repeat, feeling somewhat silly and take a drink trying to spot Hayate.
It's when I turn back that things get a bit . . . confusing. I'd just taken a swallow and was about to say . . . something. Something vague and witty and conversational, when I first notice that he's not sitting across from me. That he's not sitting. That he's right there, leaning by me. Taking his hand from the table.
"What's your name?" I hear him say while his eyes are strikingly close.
"Keisu-Keisuke . . ." I say almost against my will, while his fingers meet my cheek. And I can't move.
Because when I close my eyes, he's kissing me.
I can see it in your eyes and feel it in the way you kiss my lips.
I can hear it in your voice whenever we are talking just like this.
I can see the way you look when his name is mentioned and I die.
I can watch the way you walk, the way you talk, the way you close your eyes.
I can see it in your eyes and feel it in the way you kiss my lips.
I can hear it in your voice whenever we are talking like this...
tbc