Disclaimer: I'm only using FoR and its characters for the fun of it! It doesn't belong to me.
A Cup of Tea
Chapter 6
Reaching for the teapot, he leaned forward and asked, "Shall we begin?"
She pushed her cup forward and smiled….
Tokiya, wondering if Fuuko even drank tea at all, cautiously poured the steaming drink into the cup she held. This mere action made him feel peculiar, in a way, since he never imagined himself doing something like that. He was pretty much aware that in some cultures, including theirs, the pouring of tea was a symbol of respect, honor and esteem for the person whom the tea is being poured to. He mentally scoffed at the idea. He respected Kirisawa, as his upbringing dictated him to do so. But honor and esteem her?
He shrugged the crazed notion off. This was just tea. Nothing more. No intricate symbols braided within its boundaries, as much as he felt that he was about to gain something-or lose something-in this little tryst.
"Do you drink tea?" he, noticing her slight discomfort, asked while pouring himself a cup as well.
Fuuko looked at the dark liquid in her cup as if it were contaminated by some bacteria. She tentatively brought it up to her nose and sniffed it. "Er, what kind of tea is this again?"
"Earl Grey. And it's not polluted," he, seemingly reading her mind, added.
"Earl Grey, huh?" she muttered. "Talk about a weird name… Oh well, there's a first time for everything." She took a deep breath and gingerly took a sip from the teacup.
Mikagami watched in amusement as Fuuko's face turned in various degrees and angles: her brows meeting together then shooting upwards, her nose crinkling at the husky smell, her cheeks turning redder by the moment, her lips drawn in a thin line, which soon parted as she stuck out her tongue in distaste.
"I think it needs more sugar," she commented as she reached for the dainty sugar cubes with a tiny spoon. It was then that she noticed the chocolate cake resting at the side of the table on a silver platter in all its sinful glory. Grinning, she reached for the knife and flashed him an even bigger smile. "Do you mind?" she asked, although at the back of her mind, there's no stopping her from having a sample of that tantalizing cake regardless of what Mikagami says.
He shook his head and Fuuko squealed in delight. He watched in silent amusement at the parody Fuuko was showing. Apparently, she was having a hard time cutting the cake as the folds of her kimono kept getting in the way. Trying to avoid having the icing on her sleeves, she pulled them up to her shoulders, but no avail.
"Here, let me do that." Ultimately finding compassion for the voracious girl, he leaned forward as well and took the knife from her hand.
It's a typical scene in any novel or movie of two run-of-the-mill persons, both seemingly not attracted to each other in the littlest way possible, to have their skins touch, be it a slight contact on the shoulders, one back unceremoniously bumping into the other's, or the most common scenario, like the one happening right now: the touch of two hands.
But even if Fuuko Kirisawa and Tokiya Mikagami aren't the archetypal run-of-the-mill characters delineated in those popular happily-ever-after-stories, it doesn't rule them out from feeling the small tingling sensation that starts from the point of their contact, then carries throughout their bodies as goosebumps, and eventually resides in their hearts as the incessant feeling that keeps tugging at your soul.
And pretty much every fervent devotee of these stories can expect both parties to suddenly jolt out of their shivers-down-the-spine trance and to suddenly retract the respective parts of their bodies which made contact.
An experience like that would evidently lead to a lot of confusion, particularly with the issue on why no earth did they feel that, and what that incessant feeling that keeps tugging at the soul is.
Of course, no one would raise those thoughts out loud, so they would eventually end up being plagued about it for the rest of the day. A good alternative to avoid that nagging voice at your head is to eat.
And eat Fuuko did, evidently trying to push back what happened just mere moments ago to the back of her mind, thinking that if Mikagami would look at her as one of his 2-digit IQ fangirls if ever he found out how intensely she felt those jolts of electricity from the simple touch.
Little did she know that Tokiya also felt the same impact, in the same, if not even a greater severity, than her.
"Mm… Mi-chan, this is really good!" was what Mikagami made of the words Fuuko said through her stuffed mouth. "Where'd you buy?"
He, applying the same discretion of eating to divert his attention from that 'thing' he felt, got a slice for himself as well and took a bite. The thick luscious flavor of the chocolate warmed the caverns of his mouth. It tasted perfect. Even he himself didn't know he could create such a gastronomical masterpiece.
"I believe… that I baked the cake," he said in a solicitous manner, mindfully expecting the girl's reaction.
Fuuko immediately stopped nibbling on her portion as she, dumbfounded, stared at him. "No, I'm not asking WHO made it, I'm was asking WHERE you bought this cake," she, very much doubting his answer, or if not, her hearing, repeated the question again.
And again, she got: "I didn't buy the cake, Kirisawa. I made it."
"THIS cake?!?!" she, now waving the piece stuck on her fork in front of his face, asked again.
"Yes, that cake," he answered as calmly as possible.
Her eyes visibly widened in surprise and looked at him inquisitively then returned her gaze back to the cake on her plate. "You're definitely a lot of things, Tokiya Mikagami," she mumbled.
The seemingly inadvertent slip of her thought was something that caught him by surprise, but he pretended not to hear it anyway. Yes, he already knew before that he, Tokiya Mikagami was a lot of things. But somehow, he never seemed to believe it.
Did she believe it?
"It's such a shame, though," she went on. "That you've no on to share your food with. I'm guessing I'm the first person to critique your cuisine?"
He nodded and continued to stir his tea.
Then something dawned into her. If Yanagi didn't have a date with Recca today, she could be the first person to actually taste his cooking. She could be the first person to actually see his garden. She could was the first person to actually get inside his house.
Yanagi could be the first person to actually see who Tokiya Mikagami really is.
And she knew that Tokiya Mikagami didn't want just ANYONE to see all of this.
He wanted Yanagi. But Yanagi can't come.
So he settled for her.
The idea of being just a subordinate choice didn't infuriate her, actually, although if given another situation with another person, she'd blow the guy's head off.
She just wondered WHY. Why he was seemed to be so frantic in wanting to have tea with someone, to the point that he'd actually ask her. He could've just waited until next week and asked Yanagi again.
So… "Why?"
Tokiya looked up from his cup of tea. "Excuse me?"
"Why did you invite me for tea?"
"Keep in mind, Kirisawa, that I wanted to invite Yanagi-san in the first place," he began.
"Yeah, but why are you such in a hurry to have someone over for tea?" she interrupted him. "Couldn't you just re-invite her or something for next week?"
He sighed. It seemed that he really has underestimated her pragmatic capabilities. Now it appeared that he had to steer away from his original plan of having her talk while he discreetly records her words with the tape recorder that was taped under the table, without Fuuko ever knowing about the kind of scholastic predicament he got himself in.
And tell her about the scholastic predicament he did.
And for the second time that day, Fuuko found herself doubting her sense of hearing.
"WHAT?!"
"I am NOT repeating myself Kirisawa."
"No but… really? As in, seriously? You weren't able to pass a requirement for school?! YOU?! The genius Tokiya Mikagami?? Unable to write an essay??? About pride?? And your teacher wanted you to have tea with someone? To get inspiration?!?!"
He glared at her. "I know the details, Kirisawa, so there is no need to repeat everything, much less inform the whole neighborhood about it."
Fuuko tried to calm down from her initiate reaction of incredulity and mumbled a quick apology. "You wanted Yanagi-chan to help you, but she had a date with Recca… So you invited me?"
He nodded.
A bewildered look flashed on her face. 'Wait, I'm confused…" she took another bite of the cake and then continued. "I know you think I'm not up to par with you, or Yanagi for that matter. But I'm not saying it's true, you idiot, but… Why did you invite me, aside from the fact that Yanagi couldn't come?"
"One, I'm running out of time. Two, you were the only one with a more or less stable intellect compared to the rest of those monkeys. And three…" he trailed off, wondering if he should continue with the last reason.
"Three?" she prompted.
"Three…" he took another sip before continuing and then faced her squarely. "Believe it or not, Fuuko Kirisawa, I don't think you're as stupid as you assume I think of you to be."
Fuuko slowed down on her food and returned his serious look. "Oh…" Then her face broke into a huge grin. "It took you all that time to notice, huh? Maybe you're not as smart as I thought!" She laughed airily.
It seemed right then that the final slivers of ice have been melted. Though not sufficient to fully destroy all barriers, it was more than enough to let some light in.
They both knew that for a fact, but the reaction they received a little while ago was still persistent, thus leaving them with the company of silence, along with the dire encouragement of uncertainty.
And the tension of the moment: the unbroken chant of her conscience, the gradual deliquesce of the custodial milieu and the unnerving stillness coming from them both, was all it took to make the illustrious spirit of Fuuko Kirisawa to deteriorate.
Though her constricting kimono did add more fuel to the fire.
She wondered if he felt the same.
But Tokiya Mikagami, who was also aware of the change in the aura, did not find it disarming at all. Instead, he found himself growing more curious at this new sensation. He didn't know if it was the tea, or the cake, or probably even the girl sitting before him, but he felt more or less liberated, in a way, from the usual palisade of his life.
He wanted to make it last.
But the tea he has prepared was close to null. And all that was left of the cake was crumbs.
He looked at Fuuko and found her looking at him as well with a look somehow akin to petrifaction.
"Hey, Mi-chan, can we start with your essay already?" the toil of this uneasy feeling was definitely getting to her.
"Are you sure you can think without the cake and tea?" he, astonishing his guest, and even himself, chided playfully, after gesturing to the empty teapot and platter.
"Of course I can!" she, crossing her arms in mock prejudice, exclaimed.
"I'm sure you do," he conceded with a tiny smile. "But in any case, it's getting dark already. Why don't you stay over for dinner. I might get to extort more answers if I keep on feeding you."
She turned to him with wide eyes. "Mi-chan, that sounded like a joke!" But it was a mere cover-up for her unfeigned stupefaction that Tokiya Mikagami has actually invited her to stay for dinner. It wasn't tea anymore. It was tea AND dinner.
"I'm not joking," he said flatly.
"Well it sounded like a joke," she defended. "But heck, I ride along with jokes… So I guess I'll stay."
While cleaning up the table where they had tea, he silently wondered if the English did invite their guests for tea for dinner. Not that he cared if he broke traditional English rules. He wasn't English anyway, but somehow, he felt that he wasn't only doing this for the sake of his essay.
And in a rare moment back then, he felt that Fuuko wasn't doing it for the free food, as well.
So what ARE they doing?
But to fit the present situation, he amended, perhaps it was better change his question.
What are they going to do?
TBC
A Cup of Tea
Chapter 6
Reaching for the teapot, he leaned forward and asked, "Shall we begin?"
She pushed her cup forward and smiled….
Tokiya, wondering if Fuuko even drank tea at all, cautiously poured the steaming drink into the cup she held. This mere action made him feel peculiar, in a way, since he never imagined himself doing something like that. He was pretty much aware that in some cultures, including theirs, the pouring of tea was a symbol of respect, honor and esteem for the person whom the tea is being poured to. He mentally scoffed at the idea. He respected Kirisawa, as his upbringing dictated him to do so. But honor and esteem her?
He shrugged the crazed notion off. This was just tea. Nothing more. No intricate symbols braided within its boundaries, as much as he felt that he was about to gain something-or lose something-in this little tryst.
"Do you drink tea?" he, noticing her slight discomfort, asked while pouring himself a cup as well.
Fuuko looked at the dark liquid in her cup as if it were contaminated by some bacteria. She tentatively brought it up to her nose and sniffed it. "Er, what kind of tea is this again?"
"Earl Grey. And it's not polluted," he, seemingly reading her mind, added.
"Earl Grey, huh?" she muttered. "Talk about a weird name… Oh well, there's a first time for everything." She took a deep breath and gingerly took a sip from the teacup.
Mikagami watched in amusement as Fuuko's face turned in various degrees and angles: her brows meeting together then shooting upwards, her nose crinkling at the husky smell, her cheeks turning redder by the moment, her lips drawn in a thin line, which soon parted as she stuck out her tongue in distaste.
"I think it needs more sugar," she commented as she reached for the dainty sugar cubes with a tiny spoon. It was then that she noticed the chocolate cake resting at the side of the table on a silver platter in all its sinful glory. Grinning, she reached for the knife and flashed him an even bigger smile. "Do you mind?" she asked, although at the back of her mind, there's no stopping her from having a sample of that tantalizing cake regardless of what Mikagami says.
He shook his head and Fuuko squealed in delight. He watched in silent amusement at the parody Fuuko was showing. Apparently, she was having a hard time cutting the cake as the folds of her kimono kept getting in the way. Trying to avoid having the icing on her sleeves, she pulled them up to her shoulders, but no avail.
"Here, let me do that." Ultimately finding compassion for the voracious girl, he leaned forward as well and took the knife from her hand.
It's a typical scene in any novel or movie of two run-of-the-mill persons, both seemingly not attracted to each other in the littlest way possible, to have their skins touch, be it a slight contact on the shoulders, one back unceremoniously bumping into the other's, or the most common scenario, like the one happening right now: the touch of two hands.
But even if Fuuko Kirisawa and Tokiya Mikagami aren't the archetypal run-of-the-mill characters delineated in those popular happily-ever-after-stories, it doesn't rule them out from feeling the small tingling sensation that starts from the point of their contact, then carries throughout their bodies as goosebumps, and eventually resides in their hearts as the incessant feeling that keeps tugging at your soul.
And pretty much every fervent devotee of these stories can expect both parties to suddenly jolt out of their shivers-down-the-spine trance and to suddenly retract the respective parts of their bodies which made contact.
An experience like that would evidently lead to a lot of confusion, particularly with the issue on why no earth did they feel that, and what that incessant feeling that keeps tugging at the soul is.
Of course, no one would raise those thoughts out loud, so they would eventually end up being plagued about it for the rest of the day. A good alternative to avoid that nagging voice at your head is to eat.
And eat Fuuko did, evidently trying to push back what happened just mere moments ago to the back of her mind, thinking that if Mikagami would look at her as one of his 2-digit IQ fangirls if ever he found out how intensely she felt those jolts of electricity from the simple touch.
Little did she know that Tokiya also felt the same impact, in the same, if not even a greater severity, than her.
"Mm… Mi-chan, this is really good!" was what Mikagami made of the words Fuuko said through her stuffed mouth. "Where'd you buy?"
He, applying the same discretion of eating to divert his attention from that 'thing' he felt, got a slice for himself as well and took a bite. The thick luscious flavor of the chocolate warmed the caverns of his mouth. It tasted perfect. Even he himself didn't know he could create such a gastronomical masterpiece.
"I believe… that I baked the cake," he said in a solicitous manner, mindfully expecting the girl's reaction.
Fuuko immediately stopped nibbling on her portion as she, dumbfounded, stared at him. "No, I'm not asking WHO made it, I'm was asking WHERE you bought this cake," she, very much doubting his answer, or if not, her hearing, repeated the question again.
And again, she got: "I didn't buy the cake, Kirisawa. I made it."
"THIS cake?!?!" she, now waving the piece stuck on her fork in front of his face, asked again.
"Yes, that cake," he answered as calmly as possible.
Her eyes visibly widened in surprise and looked at him inquisitively then returned her gaze back to the cake on her plate. "You're definitely a lot of things, Tokiya Mikagami," she mumbled.
The seemingly inadvertent slip of her thought was something that caught him by surprise, but he pretended not to hear it anyway. Yes, he already knew before that he, Tokiya Mikagami was a lot of things. But somehow, he never seemed to believe it.
Did she believe it?
"It's such a shame, though," she went on. "That you've no on to share your food with. I'm guessing I'm the first person to critique your cuisine?"
He nodded and continued to stir his tea.
Then something dawned into her. If Yanagi didn't have a date with Recca today, she could be the first person to actually taste his cooking. She could be the first person to actually see his garden. She could was the first person to actually get inside his house.
Yanagi could be the first person to actually see who Tokiya Mikagami really is.
And she knew that Tokiya Mikagami didn't want just ANYONE to see all of this.
He wanted Yanagi. But Yanagi can't come.
So he settled for her.
The idea of being just a subordinate choice didn't infuriate her, actually, although if given another situation with another person, she'd blow the guy's head off.
She just wondered WHY. Why he was seemed to be so frantic in wanting to have tea with someone, to the point that he'd actually ask her. He could've just waited until next week and asked Yanagi again.
So… "Why?"
Tokiya looked up from his cup of tea. "Excuse me?"
"Why did you invite me for tea?"
"Keep in mind, Kirisawa, that I wanted to invite Yanagi-san in the first place," he began.
"Yeah, but why are you such in a hurry to have someone over for tea?" she interrupted him. "Couldn't you just re-invite her or something for next week?"
He sighed. It seemed that he really has underestimated her pragmatic capabilities. Now it appeared that he had to steer away from his original plan of having her talk while he discreetly records her words with the tape recorder that was taped under the table, without Fuuko ever knowing about the kind of scholastic predicament he got himself in.
And tell her about the scholastic predicament he did.
And for the second time that day, Fuuko found herself doubting her sense of hearing.
"WHAT?!"
"I am NOT repeating myself Kirisawa."
"No but… really? As in, seriously? You weren't able to pass a requirement for school?! YOU?! The genius Tokiya Mikagami?? Unable to write an essay??? About pride?? And your teacher wanted you to have tea with someone? To get inspiration?!?!"
He glared at her. "I know the details, Kirisawa, so there is no need to repeat everything, much less inform the whole neighborhood about it."
Fuuko tried to calm down from her initiate reaction of incredulity and mumbled a quick apology. "You wanted Yanagi-chan to help you, but she had a date with Recca… So you invited me?"
He nodded.
A bewildered look flashed on her face. 'Wait, I'm confused…" she took another bite of the cake and then continued. "I know you think I'm not up to par with you, or Yanagi for that matter. But I'm not saying it's true, you idiot, but… Why did you invite me, aside from the fact that Yanagi couldn't come?"
"One, I'm running out of time. Two, you were the only one with a more or less stable intellect compared to the rest of those monkeys. And three…" he trailed off, wondering if he should continue with the last reason.
"Three?" she prompted.
"Three…" he took another sip before continuing and then faced her squarely. "Believe it or not, Fuuko Kirisawa, I don't think you're as stupid as you assume I think of you to be."
Fuuko slowed down on her food and returned his serious look. "Oh…" Then her face broke into a huge grin. "It took you all that time to notice, huh? Maybe you're not as smart as I thought!" She laughed airily.
It seemed right then that the final slivers of ice have been melted. Though not sufficient to fully destroy all barriers, it was more than enough to let some light in.
They both knew that for a fact, but the reaction they received a little while ago was still persistent, thus leaving them with the company of silence, along with the dire encouragement of uncertainty.
And the tension of the moment: the unbroken chant of her conscience, the gradual deliquesce of the custodial milieu and the unnerving stillness coming from them both, was all it took to make the illustrious spirit of Fuuko Kirisawa to deteriorate.
Though her constricting kimono did add more fuel to the fire.
She wondered if he felt the same.
But Tokiya Mikagami, who was also aware of the change in the aura, did not find it disarming at all. Instead, he found himself growing more curious at this new sensation. He didn't know if it was the tea, or the cake, or probably even the girl sitting before him, but he felt more or less liberated, in a way, from the usual palisade of his life.
He wanted to make it last.
But the tea he has prepared was close to null. And all that was left of the cake was crumbs.
He looked at Fuuko and found her looking at him as well with a look somehow akin to petrifaction.
"Hey, Mi-chan, can we start with your essay already?" the toil of this uneasy feeling was definitely getting to her.
"Are you sure you can think without the cake and tea?" he, astonishing his guest, and even himself, chided playfully, after gesturing to the empty teapot and platter.
"Of course I can!" she, crossing her arms in mock prejudice, exclaimed.
"I'm sure you do," he conceded with a tiny smile. "But in any case, it's getting dark already. Why don't you stay over for dinner. I might get to extort more answers if I keep on feeding you."
She turned to him with wide eyes. "Mi-chan, that sounded like a joke!" But it was a mere cover-up for her unfeigned stupefaction that Tokiya Mikagami has actually invited her to stay for dinner. It wasn't tea anymore. It was tea AND dinner.
"I'm not joking," he said flatly.
"Well it sounded like a joke," she defended. "But heck, I ride along with jokes… So I guess I'll stay."
While cleaning up the table where they had tea, he silently wondered if the English did invite their guests for tea for dinner. Not that he cared if he broke traditional English rules. He wasn't English anyway, but somehow, he felt that he wasn't only doing this for the sake of his essay.
And in a rare moment back then, he felt that Fuuko wasn't doing it for the free food, as well.
So what ARE they doing?
But to fit the present situation, he amended, perhaps it was better change his question.
What are they going to do?
TBC