Friday dawned, much like any other day-clear, brisk, and well, autumnal.
School was school, as anyone could have expected; boring, dull, and, if you
actually bothered to pay attention, educational. It seemed a perfectly
ordinary day except for the undercurrent of excitement-there was a party
tonight-one of the most hated, yet most attractive women in the school was
throwing a party. It promised to be the event of the year.
Almost everyone was invited. And even those who weren't planned to attend.
Tsukushi sat through class, almost trembling with dread. She knew Tsukasa would be there. . . . And Rui. . . And, of course, Soujiro. . .
Asai grinned with an evil glee all day. Tonight, she'd put her plans into effect. . .
Kazuya could hardly contain his excitement at the prospect of escorting his beloved Tsukushi to such an event.
Tsukasa sighed, as much as he was able, within his tight bonds; tonight he'd be released for the first time in two weeks. His sister's test of his forced reeducation. He could hardly wait to see Tsukushi and begin wooing her anew.
Soujiro, well, he was torn between the knowledge that to maintain his normal façade, he'd have to flirt with and seduce some boring yet utterly willing bimbo, and his own desire to curl up in some quiet corner and cuddle Tsukushi. Not that that was even a remote possibility at this juncture, but it would be nice, and Soujiro pondered the idea wistfully.
Akira hummed through the day, secure in his knowledge that tonight would be the night Yuki surrendered to his gentle seductions.
Yuki bounced through school, excited at the prospect of attending an Eitoku party, and with Akira as her date at that! The man was so amazing, And when he kissed her last night, her knees had almost turned to jelly right there! She was so happy-her one concern was over how Tsukushi was faring.
Sakurako bustled, busy directing servants to prepare the gala. All had to be perfect! She even had a list of the men she wanted to seduce, the girls she wanted to destroy. It was going to be a grand night!
And Rui? He gloomed through it all. He was going to the party. He would watch Tsukushi, observe her for signs of relenting. So too, would he watch Tsukasa and Soujiro, try to read their moods, their motivations. Even if Tsukushi didn't want him, he would continue to protect her-just as he'd promised. He didn't expect to enjoy the night much.
So the day went, and school ended at long last. Who'd have thought one ordinary day could be so wearying? Tired and hungry, Tsukushi went home to eat dinner and dress for the event.
As evening fell, the temperature began to drop, and the skies turned cloudy and chill.
Tsukushi surveyed her meager wardrobe critically. She was rather short on appropriate party clothes. And, she winced inwardly, Sakurako was sure to expect her to dress well. Grumbling as she flicked through her skirt collection, Tsukushi's eye was caught be a small jewelry box. What was that doing here? Opening it, she found the Saturn necklace glimmering up at her. Hastily, as if afraid to think too long, Tsukushi clasped the necklace around her neck, snapping the box shut, and shoving it back amidst the folded clothes. With it on, she could almost reassure herself that she'd be able to get through the night.
Automatically, her fingers latched onto the closest skirt and pulled it out. This was royal blue silk, almost purple, and slightly longer than knee length. Swirling out around, it rippled almost iridescently, and clung to her hips as she moved. For a top, a simple black strappy thing with subtle beadwork around the edges. Nothing Fancy, Nothing Exciting. Just nice enough to get by. Pulling her hair up in a simple twist, Tsukushi failed to realize just how elegant she actually looked. Even Susumu sat and stared at his sister.
"Dressed like That, and you're going out with Kazuya?" he exclaimed in disbelief.
Tsukushi glared in reply, "And what's wrong with the way I'm dressed?"
"Ack! Nothing, don't kill me, sister! . . ." Susumu cowered from the deadly look in her eyes, "It's just that you should dress that nice to go out with rich guys like the F4! Why do you have to go with the clown instead? He doesn't even have as much money as they do! Why couldn't you go with Doumyouji?"
Tsukushi's killer look could have torn her brother limb from limb, "It's none of your business who my friends are." She cracked her knuckles warningly, "You sound like mother."
"Ah! Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Susumu cowered some more. He hadn't meant to make his sister that angry.
Tsukushi was saved from further embarrassment at her brother's hands, by Kazuya's arrival.
Kazuya was, of course, stunned by Tsukushi's appearance. He was dressed much more conservatively than usual in a black tux with a white frilled shirt and brightly colored bow tie. His boisterous hair was half hidden beneath a ridiculous top hat. His car, unfortunately, was still the usual hideously decorated beast.
"Wow! Tsukushi-chan!" he bubbled over, "You look fabulous!" His eyes could no widen enough to fully take in the sight of her. Tsukushi smiled faintly, though deep within, there was not a trace of elation to be found.
"Thanks, Kazuya! You look good, yourself! Shall we go?" Even her manners were artificially cheerful, as if she'd been absorbing the insincere mannerisms of her peers at Eitoku.
Kazuya of course, didn't notice anything wrong, and cheerfully escorted her out the door.
The party was already in full swing by the time they arrived. Tsukushi had been sure to explain to Kazuya the necessity of arriving fashionably late- though she didn't think he'd really understood. She didn't see the point herself, but it was just one of those snobbish habits she'd had to learn the hang of in order to get by in the stilted world of the social elite.
Sakurako's house was lit up brightly. Noise and music spilled out of every window and door, illuminating the traditional gardens beyond. The place was absolutely packed with people milling about in the mansion's many rooms, admiring, or deriding as attitude dictated, the mix of the traditional and the modern in the architecture and furnishings.
Tsukushi stood a moment in the doorway, stunned by the energy of the crowd, the frenetic intricacies of the social webs being spun tonight, as cliques plotted, gossiped, betrayed, and reformed, all while studiously pretending to enjoy the harmless fantasy that a party was just a party.
Kazuya was oblivious.
"Tsukushi!" he cried, practically leaping through the crowd, "Let's go see what there is to eat! Are you hungry?"
Tsukushi demurred. She had no appetite, and the prospect of wending her way through the claustrophobic press of bodies did not appeal. But Kazuya was insistent, and with a sigh, she let him drag her headlong through the interconnected rooms and passages of the grand mansion.
At last, in a modestly sized ballroom somewhere in the west wing, Kazuya slowed his pace and let go of Tsukushi's hand, He'd found the buffet at last. Tsukushi straightened in relief, Finally she'd have a few seconds to get her bearings, perhaps find a quiet corner in which to settle, away from the snide looks flung her way by her peers. Wincing, as if their glares caused her physical pain, Tsukushi's eyes darted looking for Sakurako, Shigeru, any friendly face in the crowd.
What she got was a pair of lean arms draping suddenly around her neck from behind, and a warm weight leaning on her shoulders.
"Gods, Tsukushi, You're late! Why weren't you here earlier to save me from Sakurako?" Soujiro was moaning tipsily in her ear.
"As if you need saving from her, I'm sure you know how to, umm. . . Handle . . . her just fine." Tsukushi mocked, hiding her relief at hearing a friendly voice at last. She squirmed, trying to pull herself free from his tenacious grip. "How long have you been here anyway? You sound drunk." She accused.
"Forever." Soujiro whined, refusing to let her go, "And I'm not drunk. Just tipsy."
"Tsukushi-chan!" Kazuya, returning from the buffet tables, had been about to drag Tsukushi back over to help him guess what the strange foods were, until he noticed that monster Nishikado laying his hands on her, "I'll save you!" He commenced kicking, quite futilely, at Soujiro's impervious shins.
"Oww. Would you quit it?" Soujiro shrugged off Kazuya's attack, and directed his words back at Tsukushi, "Tsukushi, let me introduce you to some friends of mine." Anything to get away from the obnoxious child stamping on his toes.
He didn't wait for her assent, and began steering the much-bemused girl through the crowd with a well-placed hand on the small of her back.
"I'll be right back, Kazuya!" Tsukushi called over her shoulder.
"Tsukushi-chan!!!!!!" Kazuya slumped despairingly. How could he have been abandoned for that grinning creep? Just because the man was rich, didn't give him to right to manhandle his Tsukushi that way! He refused to admit that Soujiro could be more handsome or charming than himself.
"Where are we going?" Tsukushi was tired of being dragged hither and thither through the throng. She hadn't realized how much bigger the school population seemed when crammed into a house like this.
"Oh, err, ummm." Soujiro wasn't sure. And what did he have to say to Tsukushi in a place like this anyway? He wasn't really sure why he grabbed her in the first place. Only, she'd looked so. . . hot. . standing there alone, that he hadn't been able to resist. But now, he was drunk, and this was a public place. How could he talk to her like a normal person here? What was he going to do? Luckily enough, his keen eye picked out a trio of well-dressed girls batting their eyes his way, "Ah," he brightened, "over here." He released Tsukushi and sidled up to the threesome. "Hey," he flashed his casually charming smile at them.
"Ohh. . . Nishikado." The girls cooed as one, "We've been looking for you all evening. Where have you been?"
"Tied up by our hostess, I'm afraid." He teased, "See, look at the marks she left on my wrists."
"Oh you poor dear!" one of the three peered closer to examine the imaginary bruises, and began to lightly caress his arm as if she could stroke away their nonexistent traces.
Tsukushi, momentarily forgotten, hmphed in dismay, and turned to make her way back to Kazuya.
"Oh wait, Tsukushi, I was going to introduce you to, umm. what were your names again?" Soujiro hastily interjected. But it was too late. She'd already slipped off.
The girls giggled, and promptly closed in on him, "Forget about her. Here, would you care for a drink?"
Numbly Soujiro took it, casting a last regretful glance at where Tsukushi had last been standing. "Damnit!" he cursed himself silently, "Why am I such a fool? Why did I just do that? These girls mean nothing to me, but I forgot her just like that to flirt with them. She's right to turn away. I'm not worth it." He threw himself into playing the unrepentant fool, flirting through a cheerful mask with the ladies and enduring with a winning smile, their knowing glances and seductive caresses.
As for Tsukushi, she started to storm off. Damn the man! What the hell did he think he was trying to pull, dragging her off like that, then ignoring her as if she were nothing? And. . . why was she so mad about it anyway? She stopped dead in her tracks. Soujiro was being Soujiro. Why should she care what he did? It didn't mean anything! Didn't affect her in the slightest! She refused to be upset over one drunken playboy doing what he did best! She had no right to criticize him for acting like that. After all, she had no claim on him, no right to expect him to act like he. . liked her. . . now did she?
She was so absorbed in her thoughts, afraid of where they were leading her, that she almost didn't hear it when a quiet voice behind her spoke.
"Makino?"
She recognized the voice, if not the soft and carefully modulated tone. Slowly, almost unwillingly, Tsukushi turned to face the speaker. "Doumyouji."
His breath caught in his throat as she turned. The two weeks with no sight of her had been hard, almost unbearably so, without a glimpse of her animated face, her slim legs, her. . . (He had to stop that train of thought before he got to distracted to think). And now here she was standing before him, utterly beautiful in her simple outfit. Well, anything might look beautiful on her in his eyes, but simplicity suited her, complemented her personality, made her utterly stunning amid the overly styled, too self-conscious ranks of her peers.
He drank in the picture with starving eyes. Perfect, she was absolutely perfect. . . Yet, even Tsukasa could read in her haunted eyes, that all was not well. Her normally animated face was a still mask; calm and collected, as she gazed up at him, yet her eyes. . . in her eyes their lurked sadness and pain, regret and anger. Was it his fault? Was he responsible still for the weary defeat he saw? He did not know, for, locked up in his prison of a mansion, he knew nothing of the fortnight's events.
"Tsukushi." He collected his scattered wits, at least what few he had of them to begin with, and tried to recollect some of the lessons that had been forcibly drilled into his head recently. "May I speak to you?" His tone was studied, reasonable, without the jagged peaks and stumbling silences that always seemed to appear when he challenged Tsukushi.
Numbly, Tsukushi nodded her assent. She'd known she couldn't avoid a confrontation with Tsukasa. She'd dreaded it all day. But there was no escaping the inevitable. Despite all the times she'd imagined it in her mind, she had no idea how this meeting would go. No clue at all how she'd feel, how his words would hit, or how she'd react. . . There was only one way to find out.
Silently he steered her towards a quiet corner. One look from his flashing eyes quickly drove off any partyers who might've even been tempted to linger in the vicinity.
Catching the tail end of his evil eye, Tsukushi flinched, as if expecting him to turn that glare on her. But the moment her face came into focus his expression softened and he smiled down at her ruefully.
"Tsukushi." It was as if he couldn't stop saying her name. As if the repetition was some kind of magic that would draw her back to him. "How have you been?"
"Errr. . ." She stuttered, This didn't sound like the Tsukasa she knew at all. It was scary, if more pleasant than she'd expected. . . so far. "Well, I've been working a lot. You know, bills to pay and all that. I've got to save enough to pay for next term's tuition." She was babbling again, and she knew it. "Ah, what have you been up to? We haven't seen you at school."
"We?" Tsukasa opened his mouth to question. What we? Rui? Soujiro? But just in time, he recalled a message that had been forcefully beaten into him, to wit: women are sneaky creatures-you can't approach them directly if you want an answer. Everything has to be done subtly, in a roundabout fashion. So, he hastily snapped his jaw shut and started again. His suspicions could wait till later. "Tsubaki came home. I've been locked up for two weeks."
"Oh." Tsukushi murmured in a very small voice. "I didn't know."
"No reason for you to." He shrugged indifferently, though secretly, he'd spent much of the time wishing that she'd at least call. Perhaps tell him how sorry she was, that she wanted him back, couldn't live without him. . .
"I'm sorry." Tsukushi began to blush, as Tsukasa stood there silently examining her. She felt like she was being scrutinized under a microscope.
"Tsukushi." The mantra repeated, this time it was a plea. He was very proud of himself for not yelling yet. The anger management classes must have helped.
"Doumyouji." Tsukushi looked away, down at her hands. Why couldn't she find the words to say something? Why was it always so hard to talk to this man?
"Tsukushi, please look at me. ."
She refused, stubbornly staring at her hands twisting themselves into knots. Her blush remained unabated as she tried to decide how she felt now. Of all the things she'd dreamt of, the numbness that pervaded her, hadn't been one of them. Perhaps it was because Tsukasa wasn't acting like his usual heated self that no fire was springing to her soul, but she was cold. Cold and empty. She felt she'd cried herself out over what she'd done to Rui. And much as she wanted to say something, anything, to reassure Tsukasa, the words stuck in her throat. She could not look at him, not if her life depended on it. She was too afraid what he might read written in her eyes, what she might be forced to admit to herself if he did.
Tsukasa's fists clenched and unclenched. The girl was driving him insane. Why wouldn't she look at him? He wanted to Shout, to plead, to Ask, 'Do you love me still? Come back to me!' But Tsubaki had told him, ordered him, drilled into him, that he couldn't just do that. Why not?! He wanted to know, why couldn't he just say what he felt? These words of evasion, this useless drivel he'd been forced to listen to for weeks-- none of it was worth the breath wasted on it. Words had never worked well for him, not when it came to Tsukushi. There was only one thing that did.
Obeying the instincts that drove him, Tsukasa reached out, tipped Tsukushi's chin up until her gaze met his.
"Don't do that, idiot!" she snapped desperately, stepping back for the shelter of the wall.
"Idiot! Who's the idiot here?" His control snapped at last. All of Tsubaki's instruction couldn't civilize him for long. "You dump me. You won't tell me why. And now you don't speak to me! What are you trying to do?"
Tsukushi had had enough of evasion, "You're the idiot. You know perfectly well why. It's because you never trusted me!"
"But I love you!" Tsukasa protested hotly.
"It's not enough." Tsukushi shook her head slowly.
"Of course it is!" Tsukasa denied, "As long as we love each other, that's all that matters! Tsukushi, I love you-together we have everything we need!"
Tsukushi merely shook her head again. All I really wanted was an apology. Maybe it would have been all right if he'd just apologize for being suspicious of nothing. Maybe I could forgive him if he didn't try to win every argument with a declaration of love. It tears at my heartstrings, and I want him so badly. But, I feel manipulated into a false surrender. And it isn't enough. Not really.
Suddenly, trapped in this little quiet corner, Tsukushi felt claustrophobia settling over her like a cold fog. She had to get out of here before she fell apart. Before she let the cold vacuum at her center claw its way free and destroy her belief in the love she and Tsukasa shared.
She didn't get a chance.
Taking her silent pause as opportunity to do what he'd been dreaming of all week, Tsukasa struck with a swiftness born of desperation and a simplistic faith in his usual technique.
Tsukushi was jolted out of her brief reverie by Tsukasa's arms settling around her, drawing her closer to the firm press of his body, and, of course, the sensual tickle of his lips brushing on hers.
If I give in to this, she thought, will everything really be better? Or will it all just go back to the way it as? The way things have always been? And do I really want that? Whatever happened to peace, serenity? He still doesn't understand. Maybe he never will. Why can't I just tell him when something's not right? Why can't he just listen? Nothing is as simple as he thinks it is. It just won't work!
"I can't do this!"
With a cry, Tsukushi broke away from a startled Tsukasa, and fled for the nearest exit.
Doumyouji was left staring after her desolately, feeling like he'd just missed something critically important. But he couldn't quite grasp what it was that had sent her fleeing from his lips like they were poisoned. . . .
To be continued.
Wow! Thanks to all of you amazing reviewers who pushed the # of reviews for this fic over the 3 digit mark. And for all those who've been wondering, What's up with the yuki/Akira thing? When I started writing this people were like 'oh no Soujiro can't go for tsukushi. Poor yuki.' So I think 'hmmm. who can I toss her off to? Why not akira?' It amuses me. As far as I can tell, Rui and Tsukasa will just have to suffer alone, however. Or perhaps they'll have each other? Now there's an idea..
Almost everyone was invited. And even those who weren't planned to attend.
Tsukushi sat through class, almost trembling with dread. She knew Tsukasa would be there. . . . And Rui. . . And, of course, Soujiro. . .
Asai grinned with an evil glee all day. Tonight, she'd put her plans into effect. . .
Kazuya could hardly contain his excitement at the prospect of escorting his beloved Tsukushi to such an event.
Tsukasa sighed, as much as he was able, within his tight bonds; tonight he'd be released for the first time in two weeks. His sister's test of his forced reeducation. He could hardly wait to see Tsukushi and begin wooing her anew.
Soujiro, well, he was torn between the knowledge that to maintain his normal façade, he'd have to flirt with and seduce some boring yet utterly willing bimbo, and his own desire to curl up in some quiet corner and cuddle Tsukushi. Not that that was even a remote possibility at this juncture, but it would be nice, and Soujiro pondered the idea wistfully.
Akira hummed through the day, secure in his knowledge that tonight would be the night Yuki surrendered to his gentle seductions.
Yuki bounced through school, excited at the prospect of attending an Eitoku party, and with Akira as her date at that! The man was so amazing, And when he kissed her last night, her knees had almost turned to jelly right there! She was so happy-her one concern was over how Tsukushi was faring.
Sakurako bustled, busy directing servants to prepare the gala. All had to be perfect! She even had a list of the men she wanted to seduce, the girls she wanted to destroy. It was going to be a grand night!
And Rui? He gloomed through it all. He was going to the party. He would watch Tsukushi, observe her for signs of relenting. So too, would he watch Tsukasa and Soujiro, try to read their moods, their motivations. Even if Tsukushi didn't want him, he would continue to protect her-just as he'd promised. He didn't expect to enjoy the night much.
So the day went, and school ended at long last. Who'd have thought one ordinary day could be so wearying? Tired and hungry, Tsukushi went home to eat dinner and dress for the event.
As evening fell, the temperature began to drop, and the skies turned cloudy and chill.
Tsukushi surveyed her meager wardrobe critically. She was rather short on appropriate party clothes. And, she winced inwardly, Sakurako was sure to expect her to dress well. Grumbling as she flicked through her skirt collection, Tsukushi's eye was caught be a small jewelry box. What was that doing here? Opening it, she found the Saturn necklace glimmering up at her. Hastily, as if afraid to think too long, Tsukushi clasped the necklace around her neck, snapping the box shut, and shoving it back amidst the folded clothes. With it on, she could almost reassure herself that she'd be able to get through the night.
Automatically, her fingers latched onto the closest skirt and pulled it out. This was royal blue silk, almost purple, and slightly longer than knee length. Swirling out around, it rippled almost iridescently, and clung to her hips as she moved. For a top, a simple black strappy thing with subtle beadwork around the edges. Nothing Fancy, Nothing Exciting. Just nice enough to get by. Pulling her hair up in a simple twist, Tsukushi failed to realize just how elegant she actually looked. Even Susumu sat and stared at his sister.
"Dressed like That, and you're going out with Kazuya?" he exclaimed in disbelief.
Tsukushi glared in reply, "And what's wrong with the way I'm dressed?"
"Ack! Nothing, don't kill me, sister! . . ." Susumu cowered from the deadly look in her eyes, "It's just that you should dress that nice to go out with rich guys like the F4! Why do you have to go with the clown instead? He doesn't even have as much money as they do! Why couldn't you go with Doumyouji?"
Tsukushi's killer look could have torn her brother limb from limb, "It's none of your business who my friends are." She cracked her knuckles warningly, "You sound like mother."
"Ah! Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Susumu cowered some more. He hadn't meant to make his sister that angry.
Tsukushi was saved from further embarrassment at her brother's hands, by Kazuya's arrival.
Kazuya was, of course, stunned by Tsukushi's appearance. He was dressed much more conservatively than usual in a black tux with a white frilled shirt and brightly colored bow tie. His boisterous hair was half hidden beneath a ridiculous top hat. His car, unfortunately, was still the usual hideously decorated beast.
"Wow! Tsukushi-chan!" he bubbled over, "You look fabulous!" His eyes could no widen enough to fully take in the sight of her. Tsukushi smiled faintly, though deep within, there was not a trace of elation to be found.
"Thanks, Kazuya! You look good, yourself! Shall we go?" Even her manners were artificially cheerful, as if she'd been absorbing the insincere mannerisms of her peers at Eitoku.
Kazuya of course, didn't notice anything wrong, and cheerfully escorted her out the door.
The party was already in full swing by the time they arrived. Tsukushi had been sure to explain to Kazuya the necessity of arriving fashionably late- though she didn't think he'd really understood. She didn't see the point herself, but it was just one of those snobbish habits she'd had to learn the hang of in order to get by in the stilted world of the social elite.
Sakurako's house was lit up brightly. Noise and music spilled out of every window and door, illuminating the traditional gardens beyond. The place was absolutely packed with people milling about in the mansion's many rooms, admiring, or deriding as attitude dictated, the mix of the traditional and the modern in the architecture and furnishings.
Tsukushi stood a moment in the doorway, stunned by the energy of the crowd, the frenetic intricacies of the social webs being spun tonight, as cliques plotted, gossiped, betrayed, and reformed, all while studiously pretending to enjoy the harmless fantasy that a party was just a party.
Kazuya was oblivious.
"Tsukushi!" he cried, practically leaping through the crowd, "Let's go see what there is to eat! Are you hungry?"
Tsukushi demurred. She had no appetite, and the prospect of wending her way through the claustrophobic press of bodies did not appeal. But Kazuya was insistent, and with a sigh, she let him drag her headlong through the interconnected rooms and passages of the grand mansion.
At last, in a modestly sized ballroom somewhere in the west wing, Kazuya slowed his pace and let go of Tsukushi's hand, He'd found the buffet at last. Tsukushi straightened in relief, Finally she'd have a few seconds to get her bearings, perhaps find a quiet corner in which to settle, away from the snide looks flung her way by her peers. Wincing, as if their glares caused her physical pain, Tsukushi's eyes darted looking for Sakurako, Shigeru, any friendly face in the crowd.
What she got was a pair of lean arms draping suddenly around her neck from behind, and a warm weight leaning on her shoulders.
"Gods, Tsukushi, You're late! Why weren't you here earlier to save me from Sakurako?" Soujiro was moaning tipsily in her ear.
"As if you need saving from her, I'm sure you know how to, umm. . . Handle . . . her just fine." Tsukushi mocked, hiding her relief at hearing a friendly voice at last. She squirmed, trying to pull herself free from his tenacious grip. "How long have you been here anyway? You sound drunk." She accused.
"Forever." Soujiro whined, refusing to let her go, "And I'm not drunk. Just tipsy."
"Tsukushi-chan!" Kazuya, returning from the buffet tables, had been about to drag Tsukushi back over to help him guess what the strange foods were, until he noticed that monster Nishikado laying his hands on her, "I'll save you!" He commenced kicking, quite futilely, at Soujiro's impervious shins.
"Oww. Would you quit it?" Soujiro shrugged off Kazuya's attack, and directed his words back at Tsukushi, "Tsukushi, let me introduce you to some friends of mine." Anything to get away from the obnoxious child stamping on his toes.
He didn't wait for her assent, and began steering the much-bemused girl through the crowd with a well-placed hand on the small of her back.
"I'll be right back, Kazuya!" Tsukushi called over her shoulder.
"Tsukushi-chan!!!!!!" Kazuya slumped despairingly. How could he have been abandoned for that grinning creep? Just because the man was rich, didn't give him to right to manhandle his Tsukushi that way! He refused to admit that Soujiro could be more handsome or charming than himself.
"Where are we going?" Tsukushi was tired of being dragged hither and thither through the throng. She hadn't realized how much bigger the school population seemed when crammed into a house like this.
"Oh, err, ummm." Soujiro wasn't sure. And what did he have to say to Tsukushi in a place like this anyway? He wasn't really sure why he grabbed her in the first place. Only, she'd looked so. . . hot. . standing there alone, that he hadn't been able to resist. But now, he was drunk, and this was a public place. How could he talk to her like a normal person here? What was he going to do? Luckily enough, his keen eye picked out a trio of well-dressed girls batting their eyes his way, "Ah," he brightened, "over here." He released Tsukushi and sidled up to the threesome. "Hey," he flashed his casually charming smile at them.
"Ohh. . . Nishikado." The girls cooed as one, "We've been looking for you all evening. Where have you been?"
"Tied up by our hostess, I'm afraid." He teased, "See, look at the marks she left on my wrists."
"Oh you poor dear!" one of the three peered closer to examine the imaginary bruises, and began to lightly caress his arm as if she could stroke away their nonexistent traces.
Tsukushi, momentarily forgotten, hmphed in dismay, and turned to make her way back to Kazuya.
"Oh wait, Tsukushi, I was going to introduce you to, umm. what were your names again?" Soujiro hastily interjected. But it was too late. She'd already slipped off.
The girls giggled, and promptly closed in on him, "Forget about her. Here, would you care for a drink?"
Numbly Soujiro took it, casting a last regretful glance at where Tsukushi had last been standing. "Damnit!" he cursed himself silently, "Why am I such a fool? Why did I just do that? These girls mean nothing to me, but I forgot her just like that to flirt with them. She's right to turn away. I'm not worth it." He threw himself into playing the unrepentant fool, flirting through a cheerful mask with the ladies and enduring with a winning smile, their knowing glances and seductive caresses.
As for Tsukushi, she started to storm off. Damn the man! What the hell did he think he was trying to pull, dragging her off like that, then ignoring her as if she were nothing? And. . . why was she so mad about it anyway? She stopped dead in her tracks. Soujiro was being Soujiro. Why should she care what he did? It didn't mean anything! Didn't affect her in the slightest! She refused to be upset over one drunken playboy doing what he did best! She had no right to criticize him for acting like that. After all, she had no claim on him, no right to expect him to act like he. . liked her. . . now did she?
She was so absorbed in her thoughts, afraid of where they were leading her, that she almost didn't hear it when a quiet voice behind her spoke.
"Makino?"
She recognized the voice, if not the soft and carefully modulated tone. Slowly, almost unwillingly, Tsukushi turned to face the speaker. "Doumyouji."
His breath caught in his throat as she turned. The two weeks with no sight of her had been hard, almost unbearably so, without a glimpse of her animated face, her slim legs, her. . . (He had to stop that train of thought before he got to distracted to think). And now here she was standing before him, utterly beautiful in her simple outfit. Well, anything might look beautiful on her in his eyes, but simplicity suited her, complemented her personality, made her utterly stunning amid the overly styled, too self-conscious ranks of her peers.
He drank in the picture with starving eyes. Perfect, she was absolutely perfect. . . Yet, even Tsukasa could read in her haunted eyes, that all was not well. Her normally animated face was a still mask; calm and collected, as she gazed up at him, yet her eyes. . . in her eyes their lurked sadness and pain, regret and anger. Was it his fault? Was he responsible still for the weary defeat he saw? He did not know, for, locked up in his prison of a mansion, he knew nothing of the fortnight's events.
"Tsukushi." He collected his scattered wits, at least what few he had of them to begin with, and tried to recollect some of the lessons that had been forcibly drilled into his head recently. "May I speak to you?" His tone was studied, reasonable, without the jagged peaks and stumbling silences that always seemed to appear when he challenged Tsukushi.
Numbly, Tsukushi nodded her assent. She'd known she couldn't avoid a confrontation with Tsukasa. She'd dreaded it all day. But there was no escaping the inevitable. Despite all the times she'd imagined it in her mind, she had no idea how this meeting would go. No clue at all how she'd feel, how his words would hit, or how she'd react. . . There was only one way to find out.
Silently he steered her towards a quiet corner. One look from his flashing eyes quickly drove off any partyers who might've even been tempted to linger in the vicinity.
Catching the tail end of his evil eye, Tsukushi flinched, as if expecting him to turn that glare on her. But the moment her face came into focus his expression softened and he smiled down at her ruefully.
"Tsukushi." It was as if he couldn't stop saying her name. As if the repetition was some kind of magic that would draw her back to him. "How have you been?"
"Errr. . ." She stuttered, This didn't sound like the Tsukasa she knew at all. It was scary, if more pleasant than she'd expected. . . so far. "Well, I've been working a lot. You know, bills to pay and all that. I've got to save enough to pay for next term's tuition." She was babbling again, and she knew it. "Ah, what have you been up to? We haven't seen you at school."
"We?" Tsukasa opened his mouth to question. What we? Rui? Soujiro? But just in time, he recalled a message that had been forcefully beaten into him, to wit: women are sneaky creatures-you can't approach them directly if you want an answer. Everything has to be done subtly, in a roundabout fashion. So, he hastily snapped his jaw shut and started again. His suspicions could wait till later. "Tsubaki came home. I've been locked up for two weeks."
"Oh." Tsukushi murmured in a very small voice. "I didn't know."
"No reason for you to." He shrugged indifferently, though secretly, he'd spent much of the time wishing that she'd at least call. Perhaps tell him how sorry she was, that she wanted him back, couldn't live without him. . .
"I'm sorry." Tsukushi began to blush, as Tsukasa stood there silently examining her. She felt like she was being scrutinized under a microscope.
"Tsukushi." The mantra repeated, this time it was a plea. He was very proud of himself for not yelling yet. The anger management classes must have helped.
"Doumyouji." Tsukushi looked away, down at her hands. Why couldn't she find the words to say something? Why was it always so hard to talk to this man?
"Tsukushi, please look at me. ."
She refused, stubbornly staring at her hands twisting themselves into knots. Her blush remained unabated as she tried to decide how she felt now. Of all the things she'd dreamt of, the numbness that pervaded her, hadn't been one of them. Perhaps it was because Tsukasa wasn't acting like his usual heated self that no fire was springing to her soul, but she was cold. Cold and empty. She felt she'd cried herself out over what she'd done to Rui. And much as she wanted to say something, anything, to reassure Tsukasa, the words stuck in her throat. She could not look at him, not if her life depended on it. She was too afraid what he might read written in her eyes, what she might be forced to admit to herself if he did.
Tsukasa's fists clenched and unclenched. The girl was driving him insane. Why wouldn't she look at him? He wanted to Shout, to plead, to Ask, 'Do you love me still? Come back to me!' But Tsubaki had told him, ordered him, drilled into him, that he couldn't just do that. Why not?! He wanted to know, why couldn't he just say what he felt? These words of evasion, this useless drivel he'd been forced to listen to for weeks-- none of it was worth the breath wasted on it. Words had never worked well for him, not when it came to Tsukushi. There was only one thing that did.
Obeying the instincts that drove him, Tsukasa reached out, tipped Tsukushi's chin up until her gaze met his.
"Don't do that, idiot!" she snapped desperately, stepping back for the shelter of the wall.
"Idiot! Who's the idiot here?" His control snapped at last. All of Tsubaki's instruction couldn't civilize him for long. "You dump me. You won't tell me why. And now you don't speak to me! What are you trying to do?"
Tsukushi had had enough of evasion, "You're the idiot. You know perfectly well why. It's because you never trusted me!"
"But I love you!" Tsukasa protested hotly.
"It's not enough." Tsukushi shook her head slowly.
"Of course it is!" Tsukasa denied, "As long as we love each other, that's all that matters! Tsukushi, I love you-together we have everything we need!"
Tsukushi merely shook her head again. All I really wanted was an apology. Maybe it would have been all right if he'd just apologize for being suspicious of nothing. Maybe I could forgive him if he didn't try to win every argument with a declaration of love. It tears at my heartstrings, and I want him so badly. But, I feel manipulated into a false surrender. And it isn't enough. Not really.
Suddenly, trapped in this little quiet corner, Tsukushi felt claustrophobia settling over her like a cold fog. She had to get out of here before she fell apart. Before she let the cold vacuum at her center claw its way free and destroy her belief in the love she and Tsukasa shared.
She didn't get a chance.
Taking her silent pause as opportunity to do what he'd been dreaming of all week, Tsukasa struck with a swiftness born of desperation and a simplistic faith in his usual technique.
Tsukushi was jolted out of her brief reverie by Tsukasa's arms settling around her, drawing her closer to the firm press of his body, and, of course, the sensual tickle of his lips brushing on hers.
If I give in to this, she thought, will everything really be better? Or will it all just go back to the way it as? The way things have always been? And do I really want that? Whatever happened to peace, serenity? He still doesn't understand. Maybe he never will. Why can't I just tell him when something's not right? Why can't he just listen? Nothing is as simple as he thinks it is. It just won't work!
"I can't do this!"
With a cry, Tsukushi broke away from a startled Tsukasa, and fled for the nearest exit.
Doumyouji was left staring after her desolately, feeling like he'd just missed something critically important. But he couldn't quite grasp what it was that had sent her fleeing from his lips like they were poisoned. . . .
To be continued.
Wow! Thanks to all of you amazing reviewers who pushed the # of reviews for this fic over the 3 digit mark. And for all those who've been wondering, What's up with the yuki/Akira thing? When I started writing this people were like 'oh no Soujiro can't go for tsukushi. Poor yuki.' So I think 'hmmm. who can I toss her off to? Why not akira?' It amuses me. As far as I can tell, Rui and Tsukasa will just have to suffer alone, however. Or perhaps they'll have each other? Now there's an idea..