Tsukushi settled more comfortably into her seat and looked around her. She
felt as though she was in a daze; nothing seemed real, and the events of
the evening floated before her, dreamlike. If she had not felt Rui's
reassuring presence beside her all this time, she was not sure she could
have born this rush of unfamiliar sensations and emotions. Each occasion
that she spent time in the company of the F4, she felt as though she'd been
thrown into a wholly different world, where the laws of physics and reality
did not function as she was used to. It was totally disorienting, but, on
this night, so very pleasant.
From her vantage point, Tsukushi could see out over the dance floor. The strobe lights cut the bobbing, spinning, gyrating movements of the dancers below into mesmerizing flashes and arcs of action, stopped briefly in time. Tsukushi reflected that this could well be a metaphor for the disjunctions of her own experiences over the past few years; choppy disconnected sequences strung together into a frantically active whole. Momentarily dizzied by this revelation, her thought were once again drawn to Doumyouji.
"Where is he now? What is he thinking? Who is he with tonight?" It was in this frame of mind, that Tsukushi briefly imagined she saw his distinctive curly-haired figure inching its way through the crowds below. She shook her head in an effort to clear her mind, and when she looked again, the figure was gone. "Must have been my imagination," she thought, "I Don't care what happens to him! I refuse to think of that idiot again!" She allowed the hypnotizing rhythms and movement to wash these distressing thoughts away.
Meanwhile, Akira and Soujiro excused themselves to go to the bar, and fetch drinks for the group. Although they thought it might be a poor idea to get Makino much drunker (they knew full well how poorly she could hold her liquor), holding her current blood alcohol level steady a while longer might be very much desired in the interests of their plans. And for this, a fresh infusion of alcohol would be needed from time to time. With this in mind, the clever duo made their way across the crowded room.
"So how do you think we're doing?" Akira asked.
"I dunno, it's so hard to tell with that girl!" Soujiro replied, "I mean, wow, I've never seen her so. "
"Spacey?" Akira suggested, for that had been his thought. To him, Makino seemed to be completely out of it. Not like her normal frenetic self at all. Based on his experiences with older women, he figured her behavior could be accounted for by the fact that she must be totally devastated by Doumyouji's desertion. He'd seen this kind of thing before, and he knew just the right moves to take full advantage. . . . too bad he'd have to cope with Soujiro and Rui's interference; given an hour or two alone with Makino, he just Knew he could have her begging him to help ease her pain.
"No, just relaxed." Soujiro interrupted this reverie. "It seems like she's finally begun to realize that we're not the ones who are going to hurt her. So she's just not on the defensive any more." Not that this would help them any, he realized. Simply because she was willing to let them take her out, did not mean she was any more willing to play their games. But it did a least give them a chance. And, more importantly, he could assure her that he'd never hurt her. After all, it takes true emotional commitment to wound and be wounded in return, her reflected. And it's not like they were offering that at all.
"Maybe," Akira shrugged, "we'll see which is right, eventually I suppose."
"Yeah," Soujiro flashed his friend a smile for interrupting his inner monologue. God, he hated it when he started to think too much, "Enjoy the Moment!" --that was his credo.
At the bar, the two playboys were suddenly swamped by a horde of female admirers and ex-lovers.
"Oh shit," Soujiro thought to himself, "I thought we came here to avoid this tonight?"
But there was no help for it. The two boys snapped into playboy mode, and spent the next fifteen or so minutes flattering their groupies, and reassuring the girls that they'd come play with them later. By the time they were finally able to make their way back to the table, drinks in hand, every girl they'd met was convinced that She'd be the one they would pick to love forever. A nice dream, perhaps; but doomed to die after their one magic night had passed, and the playboys had moved onto the next girl.
After Akira and Soujiro left the table, Tsukushi and Rui sat in silence. Tsukushi was still lost in her reflections. She hardly even noticed when the two boys got up to leave. Rui was content to sit and watch the play of lights across her face, sparked now and then by flashes of sudden emotion in her faraway eyes. These eyes drew him in closer, as if by mere proximity, he could see reenacted in their depths the memories that evoked that sudden glint of joy, the upturning of her lips. Or now; that clouding of sadness, misty memories of a past that could never be returned to.
That look of sadness; Rui knew exactly what Tsukushi was remembering now. It had to be Tsukasa. She only ever looked that sad on His account. Rui could not bear to see the look of pain in her eyes any longer, and so he did the best thing he knew to do; he leaned in even closer, and kissed the unseeing girl next to him.
At first, Tsukushi was unaware of the warm pressure on her lips. Deep in her reverie, she could hear nothing, feel nothing, and see nothing around her. But when Rui reached in to cover her hands upon the table with one of his, and gently stroked the hair back from her cheek with the other, she finally blinked the visions from her eyes, and came back to reality with a sudden jolt. Tsukushi was quite startled to discover she was being kissed, and could not at first remember where she was, who she was with or why. She drew back abruptly, and stared at Rui in confused surprise. "You looked so sad, so faraway," He shrugged, "I couldn't watch any longer."
Tsukushi looked away from his steady gaze, as her eyes began to tear up. But she made no attempt to move her hands out from under his. "I . . . I don't know what to do, Rui." She said at last. "He never gave up on me before; I can't give up on him, now. How could I, when I can't even forget about him for the space of an evening. But I don't understand what's going through his mind, and I don't want to approach him and face another rejection." She shrugged helplessly, "I'm sure there's a good explanation somewhere, and I want to find it. But I'm also so mad right now. . . . I." Tsukushi ran out of words at last, as her hands formed into tight fists, but Rui understood what she was saying. He always knew her better than she knew herself, after all.
"I understand," he replied sadly. "but you shouldn't let this consume your every moment. I'm here for you. Even Akira and Soujiro stand behind you. Tomorrow we will see what we can do about Doumyouji., but tonight, you need to let it go; forget about your troubles, build up the strength to fight again." His marbled eyes pleaded with Tsukushi to listen to his words, to put her pain beside her, if only for a few more hours.
"I know you're right," Tsukushi sighed, "But what can I do? I've been trying to forget all night, but right when I least expect, I remember his words, like a cold knife through my heart."
"I could take away her pain, if only she'd let me" Rui thought to himself regretfully, "But she holds it to her as a source of strength. And I can't do anything about that." He reached over and gently wiped a tear from Tsukushi's cheek. "Don't cry, you'll ruin your makeup," he teased.
This elicited a sad little half-smile from Tsukushi. On seeing it, Rui once again felt his heart melt. He could not stop himself from kissing her again. He'd always had such trouble restraining himself from kissing Tsukushi-it was almost like some irresistible compulsion to feel her warm lips beneath his, to hold her while she cried. And Tsukushi, in the depths of her depression, did not fight him, did not push him away as abruptly as she knew she should.
They were still frozen in this intimate tableau when Akira and Soujiro made their way back to the table at last.
From her vantage point, Tsukushi could see out over the dance floor. The strobe lights cut the bobbing, spinning, gyrating movements of the dancers below into mesmerizing flashes and arcs of action, stopped briefly in time. Tsukushi reflected that this could well be a metaphor for the disjunctions of her own experiences over the past few years; choppy disconnected sequences strung together into a frantically active whole. Momentarily dizzied by this revelation, her thought were once again drawn to Doumyouji.
"Where is he now? What is he thinking? Who is he with tonight?" It was in this frame of mind, that Tsukushi briefly imagined she saw his distinctive curly-haired figure inching its way through the crowds below. She shook her head in an effort to clear her mind, and when she looked again, the figure was gone. "Must have been my imagination," she thought, "I Don't care what happens to him! I refuse to think of that idiot again!" She allowed the hypnotizing rhythms and movement to wash these distressing thoughts away.
Meanwhile, Akira and Soujiro excused themselves to go to the bar, and fetch drinks for the group. Although they thought it might be a poor idea to get Makino much drunker (they knew full well how poorly she could hold her liquor), holding her current blood alcohol level steady a while longer might be very much desired in the interests of their plans. And for this, a fresh infusion of alcohol would be needed from time to time. With this in mind, the clever duo made their way across the crowded room.
"So how do you think we're doing?" Akira asked.
"I dunno, it's so hard to tell with that girl!" Soujiro replied, "I mean, wow, I've never seen her so. "
"Spacey?" Akira suggested, for that had been his thought. To him, Makino seemed to be completely out of it. Not like her normal frenetic self at all. Based on his experiences with older women, he figured her behavior could be accounted for by the fact that she must be totally devastated by Doumyouji's desertion. He'd seen this kind of thing before, and he knew just the right moves to take full advantage. . . . too bad he'd have to cope with Soujiro and Rui's interference; given an hour or two alone with Makino, he just Knew he could have her begging him to help ease her pain.
"No, just relaxed." Soujiro interrupted this reverie. "It seems like she's finally begun to realize that we're not the ones who are going to hurt her. So she's just not on the defensive any more." Not that this would help them any, he realized. Simply because she was willing to let them take her out, did not mean she was any more willing to play their games. But it did a least give them a chance. And, more importantly, he could assure her that he'd never hurt her. After all, it takes true emotional commitment to wound and be wounded in return, her reflected. And it's not like they were offering that at all.
"Maybe," Akira shrugged, "we'll see which is right, eventually I suppose."
"Yeah," Soujiro flashed his friend a smile for interrupting his inner monologue. God, he hated it when he started to think too much, "Enjoy the Moment!" --that was his credo.
At the bar, the two playboys were suddenly swamped by a horde of female admirers and ex-lovers.
"Oh shit," Soujiro thought to himself, "I thought we came here to avoid this tonight?"
But there was no help for it. The two boys snapped into playboy mode, and spent the next fifteen or so minutes flattering their groupies, and reassuring the girls that they'd come play with them later. By the time they were finally able to make their way back to the table, drinks in hand, every girl they'd met was convinced that She'd be the one they would pick to love forever. A nice dream, perhaps; but doomed to die after their one magic night had passed, and the playboys had moved onto the next girl.
After Akira and Soujiro left the table, Tsukushi and Rui sat in silence. Tsukushi was still lost in her reflections. She hardly even noticed when the two boys got up to leave. Rui was content to sit and watch the play of lights across her face, sparked now and then by flashes of sudden emotion in her faraway eyes. These eyes drew him in closer, as if by mere proximity, he could see reenacted in their depths the memories that evoked that sudden glint of joy, the upturning of her lips. Or now; that clouding of sadness, misty memories of a past that could never be returned to.
That look of sadness; Rui knew exactly what Tsukushi was remembering now. It had to be Tsukasa. She only ever looked that sad on His account. Rui could not bear to see the look of pain in her eyes any longer, and so he did the best thing he knew to do; he leaned in even closer, and kissed the unseeing girl next to him.
At first, Tsukushi was unaware of the warm pressure on her lips. Deep in her reverie, she could hear nothing, feel nothing, and see nothing around her. But when Rui reached in to cover her hands upon the table with one of his, and gently stroked the hair back from her cheek with the other, she finally blinked the visions from her eyes, and came back to reality with a sudden jolt. Tsukushi was quite startled to discover she was being kissed, and could not at first remember where she was, who she was with or why. She drew back abruptly, and stared at Rui in confused surprise. "You looked so sad, so faraway," He shrugged, "I couldn't watch any longer."
Tsukushi looked away from his steady gaze, as her eyes began to tear up. But she made no attempt to move her hands out from under his. "I . . . I don't know what to do, Rui." She said at last. "He never gave up on me before; I can't give up on him, now. How could I, when I can't even forget about him for the space of an evening. But I don't understand what's going through his mind, and I don't want to approach him and face another rejection." She shrugged helplessly, "I'm sure there's a good explanation somewhere, and I want to find it. But I'm also so mad right now. . . . I." Tsukushi ran out of words at last, as her hands formed into tight fists, but Rui understood what she was saying. He always knew her better than she knew herself, after all.
"I understand," he replied sadly. "but you shouldn't let this consume your every moment. I'm here for you. Even Akira and Soujiro stand behind you. Tomorrow we will see what we can do about Doumyouji., but tonight, you need to let it go; forget about your troubles, build up the strength to fight again." His marbled eyes pleaded with Tsukushi to listen to his words, to put her pain beside her, if only for a few more hours.
"I know you're right," Tsukushi sighed, "But what can I do? I've been trying to forget all night, but right when I least expect, I remember his words, like a cold knife through my heart."
"I could take away her pain, if only she'd let me" Rui thought to himself regretfully, "But she holds it to her as a source of strength. And I can't do anything about that." He reached over and gently wiped a tear from Tsukushi's cheek. "Don't cry, you'll ruin your makeup," he teased.
This elicited a sad little half-smile from Tsukushi. On seeing it, Rui once again felt his heart melt. He could not stop himself from kissing her again. He'd always had such trouble restraining himself from kissing Tsukushi-it was almost like some irresistible compulsion to feel her warm lips beneath his, to hold her while she cried. And Tsukushi, in the depths of her depression, did not fight him, did not push him away as abruptly as she knew she should.
They were still frozen in this intimate tableau when Akira and Soujiro made their way back to the table at last.