PART EIGHT

Brief Reconciliation

"Where on earth have you been?"

Fuuko looked up and caught Yanagi emerging from their room at around five o'clock that afternoon. "It's been hours since I asked to meet you out here! I was just about to go look for you…we're about to leave for dinner outside now! What happened?"

Fuuko hesitated. After that encounter with Tokiya that noontime, she had changed her mind about going back to her room and decided to head up to the penthouse of the apartment to think. Figure out a way to get herself in speaking terms with him again. Get things cleared. In short, apologize.

But it was too humiliating to look him in the eye and say sorry after all that she'd called him and after all the horrible thoughts she'd thought about him. It took her hours to squeeze her mind and she'd totally forgotten about the fact that Yanagi didn't have a room key and therefore wouldn't be able to enter their room. So since she couldn't think of a less embarrassing way to take back her accusations on Tokiya, she had decided to go back to her room and just flop into bed and sleep.

But now it looked like she wouldn't be able to do even that because Yanagi was surely going to demand an explanation.

"Well…?" she prompted.

Fuuko decided to prolong the topic. She pointed to the door. "How did you get in?"

"There are two keys, remember? One is what we leave and take from the receptionist everyday and the other one's a spare key that they keep for themselves in case we lose the one they let us use," she replied. "I had to get it from them to get into our room. Where were you?" she asked again.

"Let's go inside, okay? I'm exhausted," Fuuko walked past her and stepped into their room. Yanagi walked in behind her and closed the door. "Fuuko, I was asking you where you've been."

"Penthouse. Thought I needed some time to think." She waved her hand absently and headed for the bathroom. "I'm going to take a quick shower, okay?" she said before Yanagi could ask her any more.

The moment she got inside the bathroom, she sighed and started removing her accessories. She dug in her pocket for the key and placed it aside near the sink.

But then she noticed something. The number on the key chain.

418.

Her eyes widened. Tokiya's room! They must've exchanged keys when they bumped into each other earlier that day!

She blinked. She had the key to Tokiya's room. She had access to everything that could possibly be in it. And she could talk to him anytime she wanted now. The question was, was she brave enough to confront him?

Perhaps she could just slip him a note…or relay a message at the counter…

No, Mi-chan takes things more seriously when they're said face-to-face…

There was a knock on the door. "Fuuko-chan? We're going to be late for the reservation we made at the restaurant…they might give away our seats anytime now! We're going on ahead, okay? Don't run off anywhere else again! You do know where it is, right?"

Okay, I've made up my mind…I'm just going to have to face it like real woman should…She took a deep breath and replied through the door, "Ne, Yanagi-chan, I've decided not to come. You can give my seat away. I'll just…order room service."

"Nani?" Yanagi answered, surprised. "Demo…you were the one who wanted to eat outside tonight! Remember?"

"I remember," Fuuko said, "but I think I'm…uh…I think I'm going to be sick. Just tell me how the food was, okay?"

"You're sick…?" Yanagi asked worriedly. "Maybe I should just stay and—"

"No!" Fuuko replied right away. "I mean, go ahead; enjoy the night with the guys. It's a rare chance to get them to eat at a fancy restaurant back in Tokyo. So take advantage of it."

"Wakatteru…if you say so," Yanagi mumbled. "Ja ne, Fuuko-chan…"

"Have fun!" Fuuko greeted, as she listened to Yanagi's steps leave the room and die out in the hall.

Fuuko grinned. Here we go.

***

Her shaking fingers tentatively closed in on the doorknob, but she withdrew them again at the slightest contact with it, as if it had just burned her skin.

What now? She asked herself irritably, annoyed at her lack of self-confidence. She had been standing outside Tokiya's door for a while now, and she hadn't had the luck and determination to barge in just yet. In fact, after deciding to confront him right after Yanagi had left, she had stopped right out of Tokiya's door and no sooner did she touch the door handle did she come straight back to the bathroom of her own room. She had taken a bath (a long one), watched some television, eaten some chips, and stared into space for the last thirty minutes. And her courage hadn't gotten her as far as really barging into his room to say sorry.

And now, after giving everything she had to force her out of her room and at his doorway, she still couldn't find it in her to open his door. If she didn't hurry soon, Tokiya might fall straight off to sleep. After all, she didn't really know if he slept at 6 pm or not.

Just do it! Just bust it open, walk right up to him, say sorry and leave all the same!

She sighed heavily. Maybe she ought to knock first…maybe he might let her in and save her the embarrassment of making it look like she stole his key.

And so she did. She rapped her shaking fingers on his door a few times, and when there was no answer, she knocked louder. But still there was no response.

What is he doing—getting his head stuck in the sink or something? She mused, knocking more persistently. Maybe she should say who she was…but if he knew, would he let her in, then?

"Mi-chan…?" she knocked again. "Mi-chan, let me in, will you? I…I need to tell you something…" she went on, but the door remained closed. She frowned. That's it; I'm going in there. It's now or never, she stopped knocking and shoved the key into the keyhole, turning the knob, before she lost her nerve.

She expected Tokiya to point his Ensui right at her throat the moment she creaked the door open, but even as she stepped fully inside, nothing happened. In fact, he wasn't in the bedroom at all. The television was turned on, though, and Fuuko blinked in surprise and closed the door softly behind her, as her eyes scanned his room.

It was a mess. His clothes were strewn all over the floor here and there, and there were empty cups of noodles and milk cartons scattered randomly. The sheets on his bed were totally disheveled, and the pillows were on the floor. CD cases were propped open on top of the television set, and the CDs themselves were lying upside-down near the set, some even with cracks on them. The lampshade beside his bed was disarranged, and the phone receiver wasn't placed properly, therefore being left hung up. His cabinet was slightly open, and Fuuko could almost make out the clothes inside just as messed up. There were books, some opened and some closed, on every corner of the room, and even the wall clock near his bed was hanging crookedly. It seemed like the only thing that was neatly placed in his room was a painting of cherry blossoms that hung on the wall.

Fuuko shook her head in utter disbelief. It may have been typical for a guy who was living alone these days, but Tokiya was always different from the typical. When she had entered his apartment back in Tokyo years back, his room was as neat and as clean as any hospital could be. Every single thing was put in place, every book in order, and every piece of clothing neatly folded. Another factor why Domon was always referring to him as feminine. No one would ever suspect that a guy without any helper at all lived in that place.

But now…now his room was a total…dump. What had caused Tokiya to change so much? Was he really starting a new life in China now? Was this how he was planning to develop his character?

Still, Fuuko couldn't help but feel like something was wrong, and that something was definitely bothering Tokiya's mind.  A wave of concern flashed over her, and she shook her head to clear away her thoughts. She was here on a mission. And she was going to fulfill it.

She carefully tiptoed over everything that was lying on the floor, and couldn't help but turn the television off on her way across the room. Seeing that the door to the bathroom to the left was open and no one was there, she peered into the small living room to the right, and saw that the door to the kitchen across the living room was slightly open, steam coming out of it. She blinked, walking quietly across the small living room and stopping right outside the kitchen door.

Is something burning…? She poked her head quietly inside the kitchen, and saw Tokiya, his back to her, doing something near the sink, a frying pan on the stove beside him billowing out steam, sending the delicious smell creeping up Fuuko's nostrils. One look at the scenario and the only thing she could think of was—

Mi-chan can cook???

She gripped the door more tightly, debating on whether or not she should go and approach him. Now that she was right here, it definitely became a whole lot harder to fulfill her mission to herself. She clenched her teeth and looked down on the floor, swallowing the huge lump on her throat. What was she going to—

"How long do you plan to spy on me like that?"

Fuuko jerked so suddenly in shock that her head knocked right onto the door and it pushed open in a bang.

"Ow!" she winced, rubbing her forehead. She looked up and saw that Tokiya's back was still to her. Damn, she swore to herself. She should've known that being one of the best fighters in the Uroubatousatsoujin, he had amazingly strong senses.

"G-gomen ne," she mumbled, flushing so hard on being caught sneaking up on him like that. Tokiya didn't say anything. Then, without knowing it, Fuuko voiced out what she had been wondering, "You can cook?"

Tokiya shut off the stove and peered into the pan. "What, you thought my food appears magically out of thin air?" he said sarcastically, still not looking at her.

Fuuko winced. Cold. Still cold. Obviously, he was still mad at her. She began twiddling her fingers together, looking down. "A-ano…Mi-chan…I…um—"

In a swift motion, Tokiya turned around and the next thing Fuuko knew was that the blade of his Ensui was sticking to her throat, Tokiya holding it close to her in perfect angle, without any quavering and hesitation in his eyes at all. Fuuko held back a gasp, as she looked into his narrowed eyes. "Tell me how the heck you got in here."

"I-I got your key by mistake when…when we bumped into each other earlier," Fuuko stuttered, forcibly swallowing hard. "I mean…you must've noticed that you got my key…?"

Seeing the apprehension in her eyes and in her voice, Tokiya bit back a smirk of satisfaction and triumph. "I didn't give a damn about the key. I just returned it to the receptionist." He extended out his hand, still keeping his blade close to her. "Give mine back then."

Fuuko's trembling hands dropped the key onto his open palm. Tokiya shoved it into his pocket and lowered his sword, the blade shortening into its handle. He tucked it in his pocket as well, and then he turned back to the pan. "If that's all you came for, I suggest you leave."

Fuuko tried not to let the sharp remark hurt her. She wasn't leaving, not just yet. Not when she'd just seen the twitch in the corners of his mouth when she let out her fear of him. She knew him too well to see right through that twitch.

She clenched her fists on her sides and looked straight at him, trying to erase the quiver in her voice. "No, that's not all I came for."

"Well, spill it." He started fumbling for something in the cupboard.

"Actually, it's kind of hard to say, and I—" she hesitated, and cleared her throat. She was going to have to swallow her pride just for now. "I'd really appreciate it if you at least spare a couple of minutes and look at me."

Tokiya stopped whatever he was doing and sighed softly. He straightened up. "Have you eaten dinner yet?"

Fuuko's eyes widened. Why ask her that all of a sudden? "Um…hai. I'm…" her stomach gave a loud grumble. "…full." Ugh, of all the times to tell me you're hungry! She glared down at her stomach.

"You know, you're a lousy liar, Fuuko." He grabbed two plates from the dish dispenser and started serving the fish from the pan he was cooking a while back. He turned and placed the plates on either side of the small table in the middle of the kitchen, then took two cups and started filling the first one with tea. He stopped short before filling the second one. "This okay with you?"

Fuuko felt speechless for a while, and seeing the look on Tokiya's face, she nodded curtly, feeling grateful that he was at least inviting her. He filled the second cup and placed them beside the plates. He then stood near one of the chairs and looked passively at her.

She watched him, and looked at the chair across from him, where he had placed the other serving on the table in front of it. What, was she supposed to sit and eat? Or was she going to wait for him to invite her…?

When she didn't move, Tokiya finally spoke, "I didn't poison that, you know."

Fuuko couldn't help but grin. "Arigatou," she said and sat down. He sat down across from her as well. "It's not much. Try to deal with it." He mumbled, not meeting her eyes.

What was that supposed to mean? Fuuko blinked worriedly at him. "Don't tell me you…don't eat much here…?"

Silence.

"Mi-chan, you're going to get thin, you know. That's not good…"

"I know how to take care of myself, thanks." He was still not looking at her. What was he saying? He couldn't even put his things in the right place! And now he wasn't eating well. How was she supposed to believe him?

She decided to let it drop for now, because she didn't really want him to get mad at her again when she hadn't even apologized yet. She should be thankful he was even speaking to her, with the way she treated him that day. And once again, she couldn't find it in her to tell him what she wanted to say.

Too bad Tokiya was always straight to the point. "What did you want to tell me?"

She hesitated again. She couldn't say it. It was too humiliating. But then, if she didn't say it now, she might not have the chance to say it to him again. "A-about…what happened earlier," she started softly, staring hard at the table. Come on…just say it…just two, simple words… "I just want to---to say that…um…" she swallowed again. "I just want to say I-I'm sorry."

There. It was out in the open.

But Tokiya didn't say anything. There was no reaction from him at all.

Fuuko reluctantly looked up to meet his eyes, but saw that he was looking down himself, concentrating on eating. Moments of silence went by, and Fuuko couldn't help but feel uneasy. What if he was planning not to hear what she said at all? What if he wasn't going to accept her apology? What if, right after she finished eating, he'd ask her to leave?

Fuuko sighed. There were other things she'd wanted to say, like explaining her harsh words towards him earlier, but now that he didn't even seem to be listening to her, it looked like she didn't need to explain anything anymore. She pushed back her chair. "That's all I wanted to say. Honto ni…gomen nasai. Thanks for listening." She started to get up, but all of a sudden, he spoke.

"Sumimasen."

She looked back at him in surprise. "W-what…?"

"Sumimasen," he repeated, finally looking up to meet her gaze. "I shouldn't have hurt you a while back. I'm sorry."

Fuuko glanced at her wrists, which still had red marks on them, and quickly hid them behind her back. How did he see…? "Iie…you had every right to do what you did. It's my fault…I shouted at you and accused you of something you didn't do…I shouldn't have jumped into conclusions. They don't hurt, anyway," she lied, hoping against hope that he wouldn't notice that her wrists were still hurting her whenever she would exert too much effort.

She watched in curiosity as he got up and walked towards her, and was utterly surprised when he took one of her wrists gently in his hands and flexed it a bit. "Does that hurt?"

She winced. "No," she said strongly, but she didn't get to fool him anyway.

"Like I said; you're a lousy liar," he commented, still examining her wrist. "Gomen, I can't heal you like Yanagi-san can…"

A huge wave of guilt washed over her at his words. She withdrew her hand from his hold. "G-goshimpai naku…this is nothing compared to what I said to you back then…And, well, I don't really know how I can make up for that—"

"You can make up for it by letting me treat your wounds." He reached for her wrist again, but she stepped back. "That's not what I meant," she said, looking uneasily at him as he stepped towards her again. "Please…stop being so concerned, you're making it hard for me to say I'm sorry…for crying out loud, please listen to me for a change!" she pleaded, seeing that he was paying her no heed. He got hold of her wrists and took the first aid box on top of the fridge.

"Sorry, I'm not supposed to let a girl tell me what to do. So sit still," he said, leading her to the table again.

"Mi-chan…please…" Fuuko pleaded again, helplessly watching as he knelt down beside her chair and started treating her injury. She sighed. "First dinner, now this? Why are you being so nice to me…? After what I did…"

"It's natural for you to act that way. You wake up naked with me without any memory of the previous night's events, and I can't blame you for thinking I'd done something to you," he replied. "That's why I shouldn't have hurt you just for that."

She began to blush so hard, thankful that Tokiya was too busy with her wrists to look at her face. How could he say such an embarrassing statement about a completely humiliating topic so straightforwardly? He didn't even pause to stammer, and there wasn't a single hint of a quiver in his voice. If she'd said that, she'd be flushing like a tomato.

"But still—"

He averted his look to her face. "Fuuko, just drop it. It's my fault. No buts." And he went back to treating her. Fuuko fell silent, guilt still crushing her chest. But at the same time, a huge blossom of happiness was swelling inside of her. Tokiya wasn't mad at her. He was speaking to her; being really nice to her. He had offered to treat her wounds, and he was claiming her mistake as his even though it really wasn't. And he was concerned enough to invite her to dinner. He was finally showing acts of warmth to her, and heaven only knew how much it meant to her.

"There." He let go of her wrists, flexing them again. "Do they still hurt?"

She looked down at her wrists, and saw that there were a few thin bandages on them, but they weren't being a hindrance to her movements at all. She tried moving her wrists, and found that the pain that had seeped through them a while ago when Tokiya flexed them was gone. And she could still move them as freely as ever despite the bandages.

"It's not going to last forever. At least it'll get rid of the pain until Yanagi-san comes back."

She looked at him. "How did you know they went out?"

"Saw them out the window." He shrugged and stood up from his kneeling position. He put the first aid box back on top of the fridge. Fuuko stood up as well and walked towards him. She looked him straight in the eye. "Mi-chan…domo arigatou gozaimasu…" she smiled. "I just want you to know that I still think it's my fault, and I'm sorry. And, about last night…um…thanks for, bringing me back to my room, and…and—not waking me up when I fell asleep," she ignored the blush that was staining her cheeks. "A-and, I'm sorry for, um, the trouble I caused you…when you woke up with me and our friends thought we, uh, did…something." By now she was so red she could've passed for an apple.

He smirked. "I don't really give a damn what they think about me, but it's what they think about you that matters. Don't tell them the truth so we can keep your reputation."

Her eyes widened again. "What? Demo—" she stopped short when she saw the look in his eyes. She slowly grinned and looked down. "Ne, Mi-chan…do you…want to come with us tomorrow night? We were planning to go see the Great Wall, and I just thought, well…you might want to go see it again."

For a while Tokiya didn't say anything. Fuuko sucked in her breath, wondering whether or not he'd turn down her offer again like he did the day before.

She swallowed. "Not that you have to, but—"

"Sure."

She choked. "H-honto…?"

He shrugged. A grin immediately crept between her lips and she pumped her fist in the air, making small jumps of enthusiasm, just like a mad cheerleader on the loose. "Yatta! You won't regret this; I promise we're going to have a great time!"

She beamed at him, but he was looking at her in a really weird way with his eyebrows raised crookedly, as if there was something inside him he was definitely holding back.

Fuuko's grin faded, and she looked at him skeptically. And all of a sudden he snorted and shook his head.

"You know you look really ridiculous whenever you do that."

And Fuuko burst out laughing.