Open the Door
"You wanted to see me?" He glanced down and she was there. Tachikawa Mimi, this girl who looked so young and small, waiting there all the time, sure that he would come, even though he only said he might.
Mimi's thin weight shifted over her legs as she stood up, long brown hair waved from side to side above her hips. They were in the park –a strange, overcast day, the kind of day that things happen. No one was outside, maybe because the chance of rain was too great. But she wasn't even wearing a coat. The short sleeves of her pink shirt barely covered her arms halfway, and she wore a small white scarf, a long skirt and sandals, also white. Mimi stood out among the dark colored rocks and grass, neatly painted by late autumn. Beautiful pictures of the leaves and the wind and the early frost.
"Ishida-kun…" She breathed, and smiled. Then flustered, and as if having nothing better to do, bowed slightly. Ishida Yamato politely nodded his head.
"Why did you want to see me, Tachikawa-san?" Mimi placed her hands in her lap and neatly rearranged herself on the bench which previously carried her.
"I…" She sorted her words slowly, "I thought we could talk."
"Talk?"
"Mm." Yamato hesitated, then allowed his legs to
move for him. He took a seat beside
her, close enough for intimate conversation but ambidextrously for a casual
chat. He leaned on his knees slightly
and was still taller, despite her exemplary posture.
"What do you want to talk about?" Mimi bit her lip, and shrugged. Her eyes averted to the side, watching the cars race by outside of the street, and the thin streams of pedestrians hurrying along the tall, gray buildings.
"How is Sora?" The question caught him by surprise, even if it didn't show. Yamato brushed an easy hand through his hair –lately, he hadn't been putting any gel in it, and his shoulder-length hair had been cut short in the back, so his neck was susceptible to the cold for the first time in a long time. It still stuck up, however. It had been Sora's idea to cut it in the first place.
"I don't know. We broke up."
"Oh." She said. There was another gap between words. Mimi sighed. "I'm sorry, Ishida-kun. Are you alright about it?"
"I guess." Yamato replied indifferently. "We were both kind of…unhappy, about were it was going."
For some reason, he wanted to tell her about her ideas of moving in together, her talks about the future, about career, marriage, children, all of which petrified him. It had only been a couple of months since they had been going out.
Sora had blown up at him –she called him afraid of the future, and said that he really didn't care about her, to which he confessed he didn't love her, and had never said so, even if he liked her. And to a degree, even the latter had waned quickly.
"Ishida-kun…" She was going to ask him something else, but another force stopped her, "do you believe in fate?"
Yamato thought for a moment.
"Fate is a cruel word." He said, the words quietly slipping from his mouth. "It makes life seem so out of reach. I almost wish I didn't believe in it." The last sentence seemed to catch her off guard.
"Then…is it your fate to believe in fate, or…something else?" Yamato closed his eyes, and opened them again towards the nimbly moving clouds overhead. It was strangely insightful, especially for her. Even something in her aura was different today –its strong, beautiful green light carried in the air.
"I think…that some things are just meant to be." Mimi looked at the dark gray concrete of the park, and the tiny grass springs growing within the cracks, "We have to live with them, so we can learn from our mistakes. Or so we can be happier people. Like love. Love is meant to be because it makes everyone happy."
"I wish I could believe beautiful thoughts like yours, Tachikawa-san."
"You could try." She whispered quietly, and looked at him, and smiled. Yamato studied her expression.
"Do you like to talk about these things?" He asked steadily. Mimi stared from the corner of her eye.
"Mm. But my friends at school don't care. They like to talk about clothes. I talk about clothes too. But I like to talk about other important things sometimes."
Yamato smiled very
slightly. His blue eyes flickered.
"I guess you would keep fate and clothing on the same level." Mimi flustered, but smiled a little. Yamato's expression mellowed out.
"Why did you want to talk to me today?" He inquired. Mimi's color deepened, and she didn't answer. A shy hand brushed her a wave of honey-brown locks behind her ear.
"Tachikawa-san."
But she still neglected to answer his question.
"Tachikawa-san." The words ebbed.
"Mimi-san." She looked over, finally finding the words she wanted to say.
"I just wanted to talk about something other than clothes." An easy smile supplied them both, and they laughed quietly for a time –a nice, soft laugh, one that can carry for quite a while if you let it.
The giggling passed into a pair of hushed smiles. Yamato wanted to ask why she'd called him. Why him instead of Sora, or Hikari, or Jyou or Koushirou, even Takeru. He, the last person he'd ever expect to call him, much less ask to see him at the park on a day like this, and appear without an umbrella or coat. He wondered if the laughter like this, and the few words they said between them were kept inside a secret vault, sleeping deep inside all of us, never thought to be spoken but somehow let loose. Because sometimes, we all need to open the door.
Don't we?
"Thank you, Ishida-kun, for coming all the way out here." She stood lightly, swung around and bowed. Then her feet started to carry her backwards.
"Did you drive?"
"Yeah."
"Then drive safely."
"Mm." He stood and looked over towards his car. But when he turned back she was still there, standing still, barely moving the fingers she held together in her lap. And starring.
"I…" She started gently. "Yamato-kun…"
Yamato stared back. She took one step forward, another, and another, until she landed right before him. Mimi stood on her tiptoes –she was going to give him a hug. But then, he head tilted up just slightly, placing her mouth delicately over his. Her fingers mused the hair just above his ears.
Yamato breathed, his eyes closed, he started to reach for her…but she pulled back, her fingers fell away half-moments after, and he could here the patter of her sandals as she ran away. He caught the scent of her hair. A lazy smell of sunflowers and orchids touched by the sun despite the rain…
Yamato stood there for a long time, touching his bottom lip, staring in the direction she ran from. He marveled at how easily he lost control to her. Maybe it was the smell of her hair.
His eyes drifted towards the clouds. Maybe it was the weather.
The first splatter of rain dropped onto his face, but Ishida Yamato didn't care.
Feelings and actions like this, he thought, allowing the rain to dapple his face again and again before he started towards his car, actions like the way she kissed him or how he'd reached for her, feelings of loss when he hadn't drawn her to him in time, the sound she made when she ran away, the rain on his face, the gentle conversation, the quiet laughter between them…all these things, perhaps were better meant to stay within us, in secret, a hidden cache never meant to be opened and yet…
Everyone needs to open the door.
Don't they.
I felt like writing something introspective (for this could very well be as introspective as I get, mind you) so tada, you all get a one-shot to read. Hurrah. -__-; I'll be out with something soon. I apologize for the severe out-of-character-ness that seems to be plaguing me lately. I was listening to Dan Gibson's Velvet Rain (basically, rain with pretty music in the background, made to relieve stress, which I have none, but like the music) and…well, yeah. Download it if you ever have the urge to fall asleep at the computer. Arigatou, Minna-san!
--Artemis