Last Dance with Shinobu-chan.
By Project Pegasus
Chapter 9: Dance Dance Revelation
"I'm sorry to hear that," Keitaro said consolingly.
"I just can't understand why my students can't stay awake in my class," Seta said while shaking his head, "I have this feeling that my problems stem from my lectures. They just don't have that extra "kick." So, to remedy the situation, look what I bought." He turned around in his chair and began to rummage through a pile of papers and manila folders cluttering the back seat.
"Seta-sensei!" Keitaro screamed as he leaned over and grabbed the wheel and began to steer, "Don't take your hands off of the wheel!"
"Please Seta, don't take your eyes off the road!" Shinobu begged.
"Hold on. Hold on. I've almost found it," he said while pushing aside a mound of books, "Ah! Here it is!"
Seta retook the wheel and gave Keitaro a small shopping bag. He removed the contents to find that Seta had bought a grade school joke book.
"What's this?" he asked.
"This," Seta said while tapping the book, "is my ticket to more engaged students! When I crack some of these jokes in class, they'll really become motivated. Reminding me of my students, I've got to do some research tonight for tomorrow's lecture so I'll be downtown near your school, ok?"
"You know," Shinobu said trying to be as polite as possible, "These are jokes for children. I don't think that Todai students will be very amused, not that your effort to inspire your students isn't admirable."
"Nonsense Shinobu," Seta assured her, "My students will love them. Here, let me test one out on Keitaro. Knock. Knock."
Sensing that it would be a long night, Keitaro reached for Mitsune's silver flask of 94 proof whiskey. As he felt his jacket, he suddenly remembered that he had left Naru's gift to him in the washroom.
"My boutonniere!" Keitaro burst out.
"That's not what you're supposed to say. It goes like this: 'Knock Knock' . . ." Seta instructed Keitaro.
"No," Keitaro said interrupting, "I forgot the boutonniere that Na . . ." He broke off before he completed his sentence. He looked at Shinobu as she gave him a questioning glance. "I mean, I forgot my boutonniere back at Hinata Sou," he corrected quickly.
"It's no problem, we can go back and pick it up," Seta said as he executed a sharp u-turned.
Above the scream of Seta's tires, Keitaro could be heard yelling, "No don't worry about it! We don't need to go back!"
"Don't be silly," Seta shouted, "You need your boutonniere."
Midway through the sweeping turn, they felt the tires lose traction as the van's center of gravity began to shift. Keitaro and Shinobu gripped the armrests of their seats firmly as the car began to tumble and turn end upon end. Shattered glass flew near their heads as the metal contorted around them with a grinding crunch. Finally, it came to rest upside-down on a set of train tracks.
"Woops, sorry about that," Seta said sheepishly, "Anyone hurt?"
Just as Keitaro and Shinobu were about to respond, their faces were illuminated a ghastly, pallid white light.
"The train!" Shinobu screeched.
"Damn safety belts," Seta said as he fumbled around with the buckle of his seat belt. Quickly, Keitaro and Shinobu unfastened their safety restraints, and leapt from Seta's van just as the train plowed into the mangled heap that was once Seta's van. The heat from the exploding van raced against their backs as they hurdled themselves just out of range of the blast.
"Oh no! Seta!" Shinobu cried.
"Don't worry Shinobu," Keitaro said reassuringly, "Even if he didn't get out in time, he'll be ok. Seta is a survivor. It'll take more than a train wreck to finish him off." They both watched as the train shoved the flaming remnants of Seta's van down the tracks. Sparks flickered from the wreckage as it passed into the distance.
*
* *
As they approached the auditorium, Shinobu felt as though the faint music breathed into the night air was calling her. Up until then, her prom had seemed an unreal and unattainable dream. But the once remote and regal ideal in Shinobu's mind began to take concrete form in the renovated multipurpose room: there was techno music, flashing lights, gaudy decorations and balloons already limp from helium loss. No matter how obvious and false the masquerading auditorium was, to Shinobu, it all still seemed brighter than the sun to her. The fantasy carnival awaited them inside.
"This is it," Keitaro said almost gravely, "Are you ready, Shinobu?"
Shinobu continued to stare resolutely forward as she nodded her head. They approached the woman sitting at a table in front of the auditorium. Shinobu reached into her purse and produced her beloved prom ticket with their names written on it. She remembered how only a few days prior, she had held the tickets close to her body while daydreaming of the possibilities that the tickets assure her of. Now, as the woman at the door motioned for Shinobu and Keitaro to enter, she knew that the tickets had not lied to her. It was a promise fulfilled, a covenant kept.
As they proceeded through the dance floor, the scene stood still. It was apparent that the name of Urashima Keitaro had not faded from the minds and tongues of Shinobu's junior high class. As they entered the auditorium, the students halted their conversations when they noticed Shinobu and Keitaro strolling past. Even though this is what Shinobu had always craved, to be part of the junior high school aristocracy, she felt humiliated as her classmates gawked at them and whispered as they passed. She did not want to believe that for the sake notoriety, she had betrayed the trust of her most treasured friends back at Hinata Sou, but she couldn't deny the reality that surrounded her.
They made their way to some tables in the corner and sat down. Their table was a rickety contraption covered by a plastic, blue tablecloth and in the middle of it sat some sort of sparkly, gluey centerpiece. Keitaro leaned toward Shinobu as he spoke above the music.
"It's been a while since I was in a junior high school," Keitaro reminisced.
"You don't feel uncomfortable or out of place, do you?" Shinobu asked.
"Oh not at all," Keitaro said, "I'm just glad I could spend time with you." Shinobu's face registered an inquisitive expression. "As a friend, of course," he added quickly.
"Of course," Shinobu echoed, "As a friend."
The dance music ended. Keitaro and Shinobu each nervously began to look around the room, each awaiting the other for an offer to dance. After another song began to play and the two had not taken to the floor, they both stifled sighs of relief.
"You know sempai," Shinobu said somewhat embarrassed, "I don't really like to dance all that much. I know that when you dance, it's supposed to be a time when you can be close to another person, but I just don't know how you can feel comfortable with so many other people around. I really feel self-conscious when I have to dance in front of others."
"I understand perfectly, Shinobu," he replied. "Even when I went to the prom with Yoko Yokohama, I didn't feel like dancing. I only did it because she seemed so enthusiastic about it. Really, I would rather have just talked to her and gotten to know her better. Besides," he winked, "I'm a pretty lousy dancer."
Shinobu smiled along with him. "Would you like to go outside?" she offered, "I know it's rather cold and it might start raining again, but it would probably be more enjoyable than in here."
"I think so too," Keitaro concurred.
They rose from their tables and made their way through the crowd once more. Upon opening the door and exiting the auditorium, the claustrophobic anxiety of gossip and accusing eyes was replaced by the freedom of the silent night.
*
* *
Keitaro and Shinobu sat on a low stone fence that surrounded the school premises. Shinobu nervously entertained herself with the swish, swoosh, swash, of her legs as they motioned backward and forward like a pair of stalking-swathed pendulums. There was a certain thrill and shame being alone with Keitaro, but she much rather preferred this to being in the crowded auditorium surrounded by her condemning, voyeuristic classmates. At times, she entertained the notion that if she built enough unfeeling resolve, she could still remorselessly and smugly parade Keitaro around the dance floor. She knew that this was her opportunity to exact her revenge by being the envy of her most bitter tormentors. But for once, Shinobu just wanted to enjoy herself with Keitaro and she didn't feel obligated to prove their worth. "We are who we are, and what do the others know?" Shinobu told herself confidently while looking at Keitaro.
"You're not cold?" Keitaro asked. "You're sure you don't want to go back into the building?"
"I'm fine. Thanks," Shinobu said, "I really never was one for crowds or parties. This really is much more pleasant."
"You know, that's what I've always thought too," Keitaro confided in her, "It's fine being in a crowd, but I really prefer being alone with someone I like."
"You mean, you like me?" Shinobu asked timidly.
"Oh, um, sure I do Shinobu," Keitaro said cautiously, "I like everyone at Hinata Sou. You guys are all I really have in life."
"I know what you mean. I don't really have many close friends at school and . . ." she hesitated for a moment before continuing, "I'm not really on very good terms with my family."
Keitaro lifted his head up. This was the first time she had ever spoken to him about her family. Keitaro had always deemed the subject taboo because he assumed that something traumatic must have happened in Shinobu's past. She was much too young to be living alone at a boarding school. He knew that it must be a painful experience for Shinobu to revisit her past, but that if she did choose to fish through her distressing memories, she could do no less than speak with all of her heart.
"Do you love your family, Keitaro?" she asked.
"Well," Keitaro said reflectively, "My parents don't really respect my intelligence, and they thought I was a fool for trying to get into Todai, but I know that they love me and I can depend on them if I ever need help or money. Come to think of it, I also had a sister, but she went to live with some relatives and I haven't seen her in over a decade. I wonder if she even remembers me. Hmm . . ." He hesitated for a moment before asking, "Would it be all right if I asked you the same question?"
"Yes," she said, "That's kind of why I brought the subject up." Shinobu took a deep breath before continuing. "I wish I could do that too, depend on my parents like you can. Actually, I can ask them for anything, but I choose not to." She looked away as she spoke. "When I was younger, my parents would always fight. After coming home from school, I had a precious few hours alone to myself before they came home from work and began to fight. I would play with my dolls or read my books, something pleasant for a few hours to pass the time. But then I would hear the key in the lock, I knew that my time alone had come to an end. Everyday, I kept the hope alive that they wouldn't fight; I said to myself, 'Perhaps this is the day that I will have my peaceful evening in silence.' I never stopped believing either. When they started to fight every night, I would always put my headphones on and go inside my closet, but in matter how loudly I played my music, I couldn't block them out. They would always find something to fight about. When the fighting was at its worst, my father would accuse my mother of getting pregnant just to force him into a marriage." Tears began to moisten her eyes. Slowly, they began to fall into the puddles made by the rain earlier that day.
"I was a mistake, Keitaro, and they didn't even try to hide it from me," she sobbed openly, "When they weren't fighting, they both used me as a weapon against the other. My mother got home a few hours before my father did. Sometimes, she would say that my father was out drinking the family money away instead of spending time with his wife and daughter. My father was even worse. He made more money than my mother so he could buy me whatever I wanted. While out shopping, he would always insist that my mother didn't care about me. He would point out that dinner was never ready on time, and that the house was never clean. He asked me if other mothers stayed home and spent time with their children, and I said yes. All of my friends had mothers who stayed at home. Then he asked me, 'Why do you think mom goes to work instead of taking care of you?" I said that I didn't know. He never accused her outright of being a bad parent, but he would always find ways of suggesting it. He said that my mother did love our family, but she thought that making money was more important to the family than taking care of me. He would always say how selfish she was, but he said that she wasn't very smart so we had to excuse her actions. I hated him for tricking me into hating my mother! I hate my mother almost as much.
"My father even suggested that I learn how to cook and keep up the house to help her. And so I did. I did it because I thought that if dinner were prepared just a little bit sooner or if the house were just a little bit cleaner, then maybe they would stop fighting. I thought, 'Maybe I can do something to make my parents love each other again.' My plan didn't work though. They didn't get along any better. Do you know what happened? My father would laugh at my mother and insult her. He said that I worked more around the house than she did. I did them a favor, but they were still using me, Keitaro. That's why I hate cooking and cleaning! I act like I take pleasure in it but in reality I hate everything about it! I wouldn't do it for the members of Hinata Sou either if they didn't depend on me so much! I just do it to make people happy, but I never really succeed. Nobody is really made happy when I cook and clean for them. With my father, it was just another rock he could stone my mother with. At Hinata Sou, they are just glad that they have warm meals every day. People don't love me for who I am, just what I can do for them." Shinobu put her head in her hands as she sobbed uncontrollably.
After a few moments, she bite her lip for control before continuing. "Finally, my grandmother said that all that fighting would injure my delicate feminine psyche and that would make me unsuitable for a husband. That's the only reason I was sent away: because of the harm it might do to my marriage prospects.
"As I was leaving, my father slipped me a small white envelop. Later when I opened it, I found that it was a credit card. I've never used it. Remember all those times we had to search for you across Japan and in the Pararakerusu Islands?"
Keitaro nodded his head.
"Even when I had nothing more than a few thousand yen, I still refused to use that credit card. I told myself that my parents would always hurt and use me so I convinced myself that I was better off without them. I've forced myself to build a new family at Hinata Sou. You know, you're one of the reasons why I haven't turned back to my parents for any support. I know that I have never really said it before, but you are one of the most important people in my life, Keitaro." Shinobu began to blush a bit. "Honestly, without you, I wouldn't have anybody to love."
"I'm so sorry, Shinobu," Keitaro said while putting his arm around her, "I'm sorry that nobody seems to understand just how special you are." She stemmed her weeping until the tears had exhausted themselves and her body shuddered with the pulsation of an occasional sniffle.
Shinobu knew that she had just stopped short of confessing her love for him. She held this last secret folded securely in her heart. Shinobu wondered if this was what it meant to fall in love: being able to share your fears with the man you love. Of her most repressed secrets, her life before she arrived at Hinata Sou remained some of the most jealously guarded of them all. But somehow, Keitaro made her feel as though her past didn't have to be so hurtful. She peered deeply into his brown eyes and saw the closed world that they alone shared together.
After a moment's silence, Keitaro said, "Would you like to go in now? It looks like you're shivering."
"Yes," she agreed, "Let's go."
*
* *
When they had reached their table once again, Keitaro said, "I'll just be a minute. I have to use the restroom."
After Keitaro had departed, Shinobu sat alone with her thoughts. She had never revealed so much of herself to anyone before. She had long ago rocked her emotions shut and cleared her family from her consciousness. She had gone beyond trying to bury her childhood: she had tried to kill it, erase it from her memory. Ironically, even though she fought to eradicate her childhood with her parents, others made her feel as though she were stuck in a perpetual childhood. But Keitaro understood that her experiences gave her wisdom. He had called her "special." He was the only one who believed in her. Why was he always so nice to her, she asked herself. She wondered if she meant something more to him.
The wait for Keitaro became unusually prolonged. Shinobu began to toy with the glitter-laden centerpiece and tugged on her dress to straighten it. After refolding her legs for the third time, Shinobu noticed that as her classmates passed her by, they stared at her and murmured softly to each other. At first, she noticed nothing out of the ordinary; they had been gossiping and speculating about Keitaro and her all week. But it soon became apparent to Shinobu that in addition to the leering, there were also occasional giggles. "It must be Keitaro's absence," she concluded, "They think that he ditched me." She realized that without a Todai student propping her up, she reverted to her former immature and social incompetent identity. Instantly, her classmates had revoked her flimsy public persona as the "Girl with the Todai Boyfriend" and had again branded her a child. Shinobu began to shift uncomfortably in her chair as she felt the stares and gossip relentlessly mock and belittle her. She realized that she could never please them no matter what she did, just like everyone else except Keitaro.
Finally, she spied Keitaro's determined movements through the crowd. His expression was direly urgent but anxious. He plopped himself down at the table and uneasily wiped his forehead before speaking.
"Shinobu," he said with immediacy and fretfulness, "There is something I have to tell you right now, and I don't know how you're going to react to this."
"Sempai?" Shinobu said gently.
"This is why he took so long," Shinobu told herself, "He must have been gathering the courage to confess his love for me!"
As Keitaro inhaled slowly and deeply, Shinobu could feel a fragment of her soul being swept up in his drawing breath. She seemed to quiver in anticipation. She knew that what he was about to say would change her life irrevocably.
Keitaro began again, "Shinobu . . ."
End of Chapter 9.
Disclaimer: All concepts, characters, and other copyrighted materials used in the fan fiction, "Last Dance with Shinobu-Chan" are property of their respective owners. This is to be used for non-lucrative purposes only.