Consequential Actions
Chapter 3
First off, I want to apologise for how late this is. But hey, reality does exist. I hate that. Plus, the past while has been the shittiest in my life, without a single doubt. However, things are getting better. Because not only am I actually doing two things at once, I've got support from my peeps online! Yay!
Don't own this. Don't own anything I reference to. Do own the plot and Kumi. Steal, and I eat your soul. Nuff said.
~*~*~*~
There was no way.
He stared at the ceiling.
Simply no way. There was absolutely no way he could sleep tonight.
He was staying under the same roof as her.
He pulled himself out of bed, feeling the need to pace.
Had he really been up in space so long he couldn't handle a woman around? Of
course not. John Glenn Tracy could handle women just fine.
Why should this woman be any different?
And it wasn't as if she even spoke to him much. She was isolated, cold,
sharp, aggravating…
And simply irresistible all at the same time.
It was horrible, and wretched, and accursed, and teasing and…
There was absolutely nothing better.
Was he going insane? His feet moved back and forth on the carpet, counting out the steps as a metronome would.
He would say she hated him. He would say that she'd say she wished he was dead.
But there was a reluctance about her…An atmosphere that said
she'd rather no contact with anyone at all, not just him.
He sighed again. Poor girl.
Not that one could truthfully say she was just a girl….
Damnit.
It was going to be a long night.
~*~*~*~
"Penny wo baka!" She yelled for what felt for the thirtieth time that night, thumping herself down in the armchair.
The aforementioned lady sighed.
"Kumi, get out of that chair and sit
down gracefully." She rubbed her head, a bit of weariness kicking in.
"Yes ma'am." She spat out, standing up to swish her skirt under her legs coldly, sitting down again.
"Now, why am I such an idiot for wanting to plan my dear friend's wedding?" She asked again, her dignified mask firmly in place.
Kumi stood up again—sitting down just wasn't suiting her right then.
"That's not why you're an idiot." Her eyes were flashing
again. "You're an idiot for your timing!"
Penelope Creighton-Ward did not enjoy being called as such, and the look in her
eyes told it damn straight.
"Oh really? And why's that?" The façade turned colder.
"Milady," She used the title, inhaling
cool air to calm herself. "I am a newly orphaned punk. Those…men…are happy
little sugar-plums, kawaii as they come, and American to boot." Penny let out an exasperated sigh.
"Don't tell me you're still holding a
grudge about that."
"I have every right to." She growled
out lowly. Penny put down her cup of tea.
"Kumiko, go to your room."
The aforementioned girl blinked.
"What." It wasn't even a question.
"If you can't show restraint in the face of an unexpected circumstance, go to your room." She took another sip as Kumi began to simmer icily.
"As you wish." She replied coldly before swishing out of the room.
Penny sighed.
What to do with that girl?
~*~*~*~
"Damn those Tracys!" The thumping of a glass only reaffirmed the statement. A sigh was her reply.
"Mom, lighten up." The entering voice made Clara Daidouji look up.
Selene Daidouji was home.
She analyzed her daughter for a moment—a stunner by any man's standards, but NOT the sort of person she wanted running her company.
"I am not going to lighten up." She scowled at her only child, still quite irritated over what had happened at the memorial. Those perfect sons—all born by his lovely late Lucille.
It made her blood boil.
Her copper hair swung as she stood up, needing to take a deep breath to soothe her nerves. Her daughter just sighed.
"Mother, all this worrying is no good for you. The company's doing great; why torment yourself with all of this conquest nonsense?" Selene was nothing like her mother—fair haired and pale, athletic and lithe—a harsh comparison to her mother's willowy fire. That went in personality too.
"If you knew what I knew…" Clara began, but her daughter put up her hand.
"But I don't, because you refuse to tell me! What the heck
is so bad that you can't tell me what you hold against them, or even meet
them?" She threw up her hands.
"Honestly Mother, I don't know what you
want of me sometimes." She sighed and put a hand on her daughter's shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Lena." She smiled
regretfully—or was it sardonically?
"You'll understand when you're ready." The young woman sighed—her mother might have been stubborn, ferocious, and downright vicious when she needed to be, but she was someone wise and kind—her mother, in other words.
She smiled.
"Alright Mother. But if you get an ulcer, it's not my fault!" She teased, going back up to her room. She was glad she was home with her—she hated being alone, and Clara was often on business trips.
But this time, she vowed she'd be there for her mother.
No matter what the cost.
~*~*~*~
"Good morning Kumi," Penelope let out easily, as if last
night had never happened.
"I trust you slept well?" That received a growl from Kumi—who looked
like hell in a handbasket. Her normally sleek hair was sticking up in places,
and her eyes were crusted with sleep. Her flannel pajamas hung nicely, but the
bunny slippers destroyed any view of a truly gothic Kumiko.
"Shaddup." She scowled, getting herself
a slice of buttered toast.
"How you can be up so early in the morning's beyond me, you know. Kami-sama knows how much time you're spending on that infernal wedding of theirs." Penelope raised an eyebrow-evidently her mood hadn't improved.
"Indeed." She shook her head, remembering to keep herself above the situation.
"Kumiko, I will require a word with you later." She raised an eyebrow, and Penny had to remember not to smile at the bedraggled sight.
"Don't see why not." She made headway in leaving the room before Penelope spoke up.
"Your toast is ready." She turned her head and smiled coolly.
"I'll remember that." And with that, she went to get dressed.
Penelope was just glad to see her smile. Sort of. Somewhat. Maybe. Hopefully.
She sighed.
This was going to be harder than she thought.
~*~*~*~
"What's the matter." Kumi stood in the doorway, looking to Penelope with a look of expectation.
"Now, Kumi, sit down." She smiled to hide her thoughts on the matter, and Kumi, with a slight roll of the eyes, did so.
"I'm sitting." She prompted, and Penelope began.
"Now Kumiko, as you know, a lot of important people are connected to the Tracys, and thus, there are going to be a lot of such guests at Alan and Tin-Tin's wedding. When they meet you, they're going to be associating you with me, and--" Kumi stepped up as if a rat had approached her.
"I don't believe you." She sneered.
"Keep your judgments of my behaviour to yourself. How I act is of no concern to you." She stood up as well, meeting her old friend blow for blow.
"It is of plenty concern to me, I assure you. I understand your grief. But if this continues for much longer, the entirety of the wedding could be for naught. Such negativity would dampen the ceremonies far too much for comfort. Do you understand me?"
That was the wrong thing to say.
"I understand you perfectly! I'm the little punk girl, too low to be associated with you! Fuck you, Creighton-Ward-sama! I've got every fucking right to be upset and you bloody well know it!" She was in a fury now, and the change in voice and tempo was a clear display of such.
"I don't believe you, Penelope. Don't go around saying you understand my grief when you damn well don't. You have no IDEA what it's like to be orphaned at nineteen! So keep it to your goddamn self!" And with that, she stormed out of the room. What she needed was Nirvana and her cat.
She went to her room, slamming her door loudly. Her Nirvana CDs were there.
Chibi-Youma was not.
As she came, she left, searching the house, worried and angry and still storming through. It was when she reached the library she saw the cat.
Being petted by John Tracy.
The sight made her stop for a moment; and nearly made her smile. The contented mews of the kitten echoed through the room, causing a slight chuckle from the young man.
Kumi felt his eyes slide up to meet hers, and stiffened slightly. Tried to, rather.
She feigned indifference.
"I see you found my cat." He smiled
warmly at her, and she pretended to ignore it.
"More like it found me. It's a cute
little thing, isn't it?" He wasn't looking at the cat, and she hid her disgust.
"I suppose." He raised an eyebrow.
"Something the matter?" She would have laughed. But she really didn't seem in the laughing mood.
"You could say that." Her tone was guarded, but her eyes a bit questioning.
"Want to talk about it?" She threw up her hands.
"Sure, why not." He told her to start from the beginning, and she did.
"Penelope's half-convinced that if I be myself I'll scare the wedding party. She's just rambling on about how I'll dishonour her name, and all this…" She shook her head, pulling out a stick of gum, having to will herself not to reach for a cigarette. He saw the case.
"May I?" Her immediate reaction was 'What the?!'—after all, she could never have pictured the golden boy smoking. But there he was, just reaching for a cigarette and lighting it, taking a smoke like nobody's business. He ground it out quickly though, and Kumi smiled coldly. Just a ploy.
"Well, why don't you tell her this then?"
The cold smile returned.
"I did." John grinned. He could just imagine…
The sound of someone clearing his throat made John look up. There was Scott, watching the two with a raised eyebrow.
It made Kumi want to throw up. As if she would ever….Argh!
John smiled, making leave to go.
"Well, just remember you can talk to me, alright?" His voice was both reassuring and hopeful-an odd combination. She crossed her arms over her chest.
"Whatever."
But if you looked closely, you would have seen a look in her eyes.
Not amusement, and not disdain.
Something more like contentment.
Something that was nice.
