I managed to write another chapter. Yay. This installment has been
brought to you by my pissy angst-inspiring mood. enjoy.
Soujiro sat and slammed back shot after shot, as if the alcohol could numb his feelings of guilt, as it numbed his judgement.
Akira had long since taken off with the cute bartender who'd been serving them earlier. Soujiro didn't think they'd be back any time soon.
So now here he was, getting steadily more depressed as the day wore on. News at Eitoku had always traveled fast. So, it was no real surprise that before Akira and Soujiro has managed to reach the school gates, Shigeru had run up to them, overflowing with news of Tsukasa and Tsukushi's fight. "Oh! Wasn't it Awful?" she'd said. "The man is such a fool!" Shigeru hadn't quite been sure what it was all about, but she'd heard three stories already. Tsukushi had slept with Rui or maybe it was Kayuza? She couldn't remember, but she knew it couldn't possibly be true! Not Tsukushi! Anyway, Doumyouji was in a terrible mood and they'd best avoid him. Shigeru, herself, was sure that Tsukushi must be off crying somewhere-she was going to go find her. Akira and Soujiro had merely exchanged looks as the hyperactive girl ran off again. It was hard to understand Shigeru when she was talking so fast, but they'd got the gist all right. It was definitely time to leave before Tsukasa found them. Thus, they'd soon found themselves ensconced at their favorite day-time hangout, being served by that gorgeous waitress with whom Akira'd eventually vanished.
More than he feared for his own safety, however, Soujiro worried about Tsukushi. He felt a stab of guilt. Or maybe it was more like a savage horde of guilt-daggers, slashing at his insides. This was really all his fault. It didn't even matter that he hadn't actually done anything. He'd managed to hurt Tsukushi simply by associating with her. He hadn't wanted that at all. It had been selfish of him, he knew, to want to be near her-he, who'd only ever managed to hurt the girls he cared about. He'd done it again! He was not worthy of his friends. Soujiro sighed in despair. He was what he had made himself; what the world saw him as-a shallow, fickle playboy.
It would be better if he truly confined himself to this shallow simulacrum of passion. He would refuse to feel, refuse to get close to anyone else again! He did not want to hurt another friend. So, if he had no true friends, then he could hurt no one!
It would have been plain to an omniscient observer that the alcohol had made quite a good beginning in clouding Soujiro's judgement. His thoughts were steadily growing more maudlin, and his train of logic seemed to have derailed quite some time ago. But such is the nature of a good binge, that Soujiro himself had no idea how little sense his thoughts made right now. And he was only getting less sensible as the day wore on. Rather than numbing his pain, Soujiro's continued drinking merely served to reinforce what few grains of truth there were in his memories, and bring wave upon wave of guilt crashing down upon his head.
Even now, Soujiro felt a strong urge to go to Tsukushi's and apologize to her for making her come with him last night. But he knew that would only make things worse. Somebody was bound to see, and misunderstand. It would only worsen the rift between Tsukushi and Tsukasa. No, Soujiro sighed again; it was best if Soujiro just locked himself in his public role. A new girl every night. No pain. Only pleasure. Only an immersion in the unthinking sensation..
Soujiro scowled-If only he still enjoyed such superficialities.
And what about Yuki? He knew the girl kept trying to find ways to see him, despite his repeated rejections. It was for her own good, damn it! Couldn't she see what kind of man he was? Someone nice girls should avoid. If he was going to avoid talking to Tsukushi, the one person he felt comfortable opening up to, then he most certainly had to be equally sure to avoid her friend, even though, or perhaps especially because he'd grown somewhat fond of the blond girl. Still, he reflected, it wouldn't be that hard to find a way to drive her off for good; he'd always felt somewhat uncomfortable around her anyway, what with her dreamily worshipful eyes, and puppy-dog- like eagerness to please.
Soujiro slammed his fist down on the bartop. Commoners! Why was he so hung up on these commoner girls?! Was it because of their lack of sophistication, their inability to play society's games that caused him to want to protect them? Their failure to live by the same rules that governed his own class; it confused him; made him forget who and what he was. He'd been a fool not to see that before.
"Why so glum?" A sultry voice interrupted his maudlin musings. Soujiro turned to look up at the speaker, an automatic smile forming on his lips.
"Because I'd not yet met you. Hi. I'm Nishikado Soujiro." Here was a game he knew how to play. The warm glow in his eyes as he introduced himself to the beautiful creature in front of him failed to touch his soul. .I am just a thin veneer of a man, . Soujiro sighed inwardly, as he motioned for the girl to sit. . . .I am defined by my actions. . . . This girl knows exactly what she's getting. . . You can see it in her eyes. . . And she won't be disappointed either.
"I know," the girl purred as she settled in close to him, "I've heard so much about you. I'm Haniko." She didn't bother to give her family name. "I'm very pleased to meet you. Can I buy you a drink?"
"Only if you let me take care of the all rest." Soujiro smiled invitingly at her.
And the game was on. Not that it was any kind of challenge. They were both worldly enough to know exactly what they wanted. It came as a shock to neither, when, some time later, they found themselves in an anonymous hotel bed, entwined in familiar positions.
And still Soujiro felt numb inside.
Even when the sex was good, it was bad. And if there was one thing Soujiro knew, it was that he was a lover par excellent. He'd never yet left any woman unsatisfied, so why was it that he felt so cold inside? He couldn't shake the gnawing ache at his heart, or the utter dissatisfaction that He felt.
"But this is the way it has to be," he reminded himself, as his partner collapsed at last into an exhaustedly satiated sleep. "This girl beside me-- what's her name again?-- will never regret this moment. I've done her no harm, caused her no pain," which is more than he could say for her-his back ached from the gouges her sharp fingernails had carved in his flesh.
"This is all I'm capable of, and all that I deserve."
"And it's not that bad, really. . . . So, why can't I accept it? . Why does that face keep flitting across my vision? Why do I crave what I cannot have?"
Soujiro craved an understanding touch, a soothing voice, a determined defender. All qualities he associated with Tsukushi. And her he could not have. She was sure to be angry with him, sure to blame him for her fight with Tsukasa. And who could blame her, really? If Soujiro wasn't such a playboy, then Tsukasa wouldn't have noticed a thing.
It was ironic really, since Soujiro wasn't interested in Tsukushi as a sexual being, though he wasn't against the idea entirely. He was more interested in her as a confidante; something he'd never really had before.
"And won't ever have now either!" he reminded himself, one again, to cease such idle thoughts.
He would not seek to get close to her again. It was not right to cause her more trouble in the cause of his own selfishness. And deep down inside, he was afraid to admit to himself that if he did seek her out again, if he sought to draw her closer, he would unconsciously cross the line between friendship and something more. Given his emotional confusion and inability to reconcile the two concepts of confidante and lover, this would be a disaster.
Soujiro lay still and stared at the featureless ceiling, as he tried to calm himself. "Just fucking deal with it already!" he mentally berated himself. He had a splitting headache.
Soujiro turned to the sleeping girl next to him, and studied her pretty, yet somehow vapid features. Suddenly, he did not want to be there anymore when she woke up. He didn't think he could deal with the pettiness of their interaction; the superficial pleasantries that would follow on the dawn; the meaningless parting; or the rapid extinguishing of the momentary intimacy they'd shared as the new day proceeded on its hectic way.
Smoothly, so as not to wake the girl (whose name he still couldn't recall), Soujiro slipped out of bed, dressed silently, and departed. Maybe she'd be angry to find him gone in the morning, but right now, he didn't really care. He just needed to get away from her, from himself, from the hollow lie that was his life.
To be continued.
Life is meant to be lived, Angst is meant to be savoured, Soujiro needs Prozac
Soujiro sat and slammed back shot after shot, as if the alcohol could numb his feelings of guilt, as it numbed his judgement.
Akira had long since taken off with the cute bartender who'd been serving them earlier. Soujiro didn't think they'd be back any time soon.
So now here he was, getting steadily more depressed as the day wore on. News at Eitoku had always traveled fast. So, it was no real surprise that before Akira and Soujiro has managed to reach the school gates, Shigeru had run up to them, overflowing with news of Tsukasa and Tsukushi's fight. "Oh! Wasn't it Awful?" she'd said. "The man is such a fool!" Shigeru hadn't quite been sure what it was all about, but she'd heard three stories already. Tsukushi had slept with Rui or maybe it was Kayuza? She couldn't remember, but she knew it couldn't possibly be true! Not Tsukushi! Anyway, Doumyouji was in a terrible mood and they'd best avoid him. Shigeru, herself, was sure that Tsukushi must be off crying somewhere-she was going to go find her. Akira and Soujiro had merely exchanged looks as the hyperactive girl ran off again. It was hard to understand Shigeru when she was talking so fast, but they'd got the gist all right. It was definitely time to leave before Tsukasa found them. Thus, they'd soon found themselves ensconced at their favorite day-time hangout, being served by that gorgeous waitress with whom Akira'd eventually vanished.
More than he feared for his own safety, however, Soujiro worried about Tsukushi. He felt a stab of guilt. Or maybe it was more like a savage horde of guilt-daggers, slashing at his insides. This was really all his fault. It didn't even matter that he hadn't actually done anything. He'd managed to hurt Tsukushi simply by associating with her. He hadn't wanted that at all. It had been selfish of him, he knew, to want to be near her-he, who'd only ever managed to hurt the girls he cared about. He'd done it again! He was not worthy of his friends. Soujiro sighed in despair. He was what he had made himself; what the world saw him as-a shallow, fickle playboy.
It would be better if he truly confined himself to this shallow simulacrum of passion. He would refuse to feel, refuse to get close to anyone else again! He did not want to hurt another friend. So, if he had no true friends, then he could hurt no one!
It would have been plain to an omniscient observer that the alcohol had made quite a good beginning in clouding Soujiro's judgement. His thoughts were steadily growing more maudlin, and his train of logic seemed to have derailed quite some time ago. But such is the nature of a good binge, that Soujiro himself had no idea how little sense his thoughts made right now. And he was only getting less sensible as the day wore on. Rather than numbing his pain, Soujiro's continued drinking merely served to reinforce what few grains of truth there were in his memories, and bring wave upon wave of guilt crashing down upon his head.
Even now, Soujiro felt a strong urge to go to Tsukushi's and apologize to her for making her come with him last night. But he knew that would only make things worse. Somebody was bound to see, and misunderstand. It would only worsen the rift between Tsukushi and Tsukasa. No, Soujiro sighed again; it was best if Soujiro just locked himself in his public role. A new girl every night. No pain. Only pleasure. Only an immersion in the unthinking sensation..
Soujiro scowled-If only he still enjoyed such superficialities.
And what about Yuki? He knew the girl kept trying to find ways to see him, despite his repeated rejections. It was for her own good, damn it! Couldn't she see what kind of man he was? Someone nice girls should avoid. If he was going to avoid talking to Tsukushi, the one person he felt comfortable opening up to, then he most certainly had to be equally sure to avoid her friend, even though, or perhaps especially because he'd grown somewhat fond of the blond girl. Still, he reflected, it wouldn't be that hard to find a way to drive her off for good; he'd always felt somewhat uncomfortable around her anyway, what with her dreamily worshipful eyes, and puppy-dog- like eagerness to please.
Soujiro slammed his fist down on the bartop. Commoners! Why was he so hung up on these commoner girls?! Was it because of their lack of sophistication, their inability to play society's games that caused him to want to protect them? Their failure to live by the same rules that governed his own class; it confused him; made him forget who and what he was. He'd been a fool not to see that before.
"Why so glum?" A sultry voice interrupted his maudlin musings. Soujiro turned to look up at the speaker, an automatic smile forming on his lips.
"Because I'd not yet met you. Hi. I'm Nishikado Soujiro." Here was a game he knew how to play. The warm glow in his eyes as he introduced himself to the beautiful creature in front of him failed to touch his soul. .I am just a thin veneer of a man, . Soujiro sighed inwardly, as he motioned for the girl to sit. . . .I am defined by my actions. . . . This girl knows exactly what she's getting. . . You can see it in her eyes. . . And she won't be disappointed either.
"I know," the girl purred as she settled in close to him, "I've heard so much about you. I'm Haniko." She didn't bother to give her family name. "I'm very pleased to meet you. Can I buy you a drink?"
"Only if you let me take care of the all rest." Soujiro smiled invitingly at her.
And the game was on. Not that it was any kind of challenge. They were both worldly enough to know exactly what they wanted. It came as a shock to neither, when, some time later, they found themselves in an anonymous hotel bed, entwined in familiar positions.
And still Soujiro felt numb inside.
Even when the sex was good, it was bad. And if there was one thing Soujiro knew, it was that he was a lover par excellent. He'd never yet left any woman unsatisfied, so why was it that he felt so cold inside? He couldn't shake the gnawing ache at his heart, or the utter dissatisfaction that He felt.
"But this is the way it has to be," he reminded himself, as his partner collapsed at last into an exhaustedly satiated sleep. "This girl beside me-- what's her name again?-- will never regret this moment. I've done her no harm, caused her no pain," which is more than he could say for her-his back ached from the gouges her sharp fingernails had carved in his flesh.
"This is all I'm capable of, and all that I deserve."
"And it's not that bad, really. . . . So, why can't I accept it? . Why does that face keep flitting across my vision? Why do I crave what I cannot have?"
Soujiro craved an understanding touch, a soothing voice, a determined defender. All qualities he associated with Tsukushi. And her he could not have. She was sure to be angry with him, sure to blame him for her fight with Tsukasa. And who could blame her, really? If Soujiro wasn't such a playboy, then Tsukasa wouldn't have noticed a thing.
It was ironic really, since Soujiro wasn't interested in Tsukushi as a sexual being, though he wasn't against the idea entirely. He was more interested in her as a confidante; something he'd never really had before.
"And won't ever have now either!" he reminded himself, one again, to cease such idle thoughts.
He would not seek to get close to her again. It was not right to cause her more trouble in the cause of his own selfishness. And deep down inside, he was afraid to admit to himself that if he did seek her out again, if he sought to draw her closer, he would unconsciously cross the line between friendship and something more. Given his emotional confusion and inability to reconcile the two concepts of confidante and lover, this would be a disaster.
Soujiro lay still and stared at the featureless ceiling, as he tried to calm himself. "Just fucking deal with it already!" he mentally berated himself. He had a splitting headache.
Soujiro turned to the sleeping girl next to him, and studied her pretty, yet somehow vapid features. Suddenly, he did not want to be there anymore when she woke up. He didn't think he could deal with the pettiness of their interaction; the superficial pleasantries that would follow on the dawn; the meaningless parting; or the rapid extinguishing of the momentary intimacy they'd shared as the new day proceeded on its hectic way.
Smoothly, so as not to wake the girl (whose name he still couldn't recall), Soujiro slipped out of bed, dressed silently, and departed. Maybe she'd be angry to find him gone in the morning, but right now, he didn't really care. He just needed to get away from her, from himself, from the hollow lie that was his life.
To be continued.
Life is meant to be lived, Angst is meant to be savoured, Soujiro needs Prozac