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 7
Fuuko followed closely behind while Tokiya led the way to his kitchen. She has slightly grown accustomed to his house, particularly with his antiquated, Victorian slash gothic style, but there were still some pieces of décor that got her on the goosebumps level. As she, still lost in her own thoughts, turned around the blind corner, she came face to face with an old ball-metal statue of a cherubim, whose oddly formed face-with the bulging cheeks and puffy eyes- alarmed her.
Clearly startled by bronze figure, she quickened her pace and promised herself not to doze off while walking. Mikagami's house was pretty huge, and if she didn't watch her surroundings carefully, she might get lost. Or worse, she might run into a medieval armors she'd seen in those movies that suddenly come to life when one's alone.
So now she walked directly behind her host for the night, not even a foot away from him, much to Mikagami's vexation. He knew about Fuuko's little encounter with one of his many bronze sculptures. He distinctly heard that loud yelp of surprise, and the quick footsteps that followed afterwards. What he didn't expect was for the girl to chivy right behind him, to the point that he could actually feel her quick, warm breathing just below the nape of his back.
Now that decidedly got him on his goosebumps level.
"Ever thought of renting your house for a horror flick, Mi-chan?" she piped up, probably in order to lighten up the dark mood being set off by the corridor.
"The thought never crossed me, but I will consider," he mused. "Who's going to star, by the way, you?" He saw her grinning through the corner of his eyes.
"I just had an idea. You can be like, Mr. Scrooge, and me, Recca and Domon can do the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future," she laughed, seeing the image of a wrinkly old Tokiya Mikagami as Mr. Scrooge settled on a tall velvet chair by the fireplace smoking tobacco. Though the wrinkly an old part was rather hard for her to imagine, she knew very well that he didn't have to act much to get into the part.
Then they reached his kitchen, and much to Fuuko's amazement, it wasn't as dreary and imposing as the other parts of his house. Probably because it overlooked the garden and the draperies were set high to let what light was left outside in. Everything seemed to be in order, and Fuuko was definitely amazed at Mikagami's ability to keep his kitchen immaculate after baking such a palatable masterpiece. Whenever she tried to bake, the kitchen was always bound to look like a disaster area, and her gourmet creations weren't exactly what one would call delectable either.
"This… This is you kitchen, Mi-chan?"
"You certainly don't think it's the bedroom, do you?" he derided.
Fuuko crossed her arms and retorted. "Well I certainly didn't think you'd take enough time to actually pick up flowers for this part of your house if you didn't spend most of your time in here." She fingered the petals of the daisies that lead in the glass vase on the middle of the table.
"What makes you say that?" he asked while fishing through the cupboards.
"You don't have flowers anywhere else in this place save for the garden and here," she pointed out. "So do you really hang out in the kitchen more often?"
He, feeling slightly vulnerable that Fuuko can actually tell a lot about him just by his decorating purposes, turned back to give her this pointed look and then reluctantly nodded.
"I'm a kitchen girl myself", she admitted. "But I'm not really good. I just like hanging out 'coz of the food. And the fridge!" And then a crazy thought went to her head. "Hey, Mi-chan, mind if I check out your fridge? You know, the saying you are what you eat…"
But Fuuko didn't wait any longer for his answer as she headed straight for his refrigerator. He, on the other hand, was startled enough by the announcement she gave. Fuuko Kirisawa was about to raid his fridge. Who knows what kind of destruction she'll cause? That and he did believe to some extent the traditional saying of comestibles' effect on ones' personality, or whichever way that goes. He didn't intend for her to suddenly divulge to the whole campus every little thing to be found in his abode. He didn't even intend for her to realize so many things about him in such a short span of time.
And he didn't even think she realizes how much it alarms him to have someone actually see, even in the vaguest sense, what he really is like.
He had a reputation to hold on to. He didn't want her imposing on it. He had his pride, still.
But she said he had nothing to be proud of.
"Hm, eggs, ham, fruits…"
If he had nothing to be proud of, does he still have his pride?
"Ohh… chocolates!!"
He needed to know.
"Hey, Mi-chan," Fuuko's head popped out from the fridge's door. "You're human after all!"
"Excuse me?"
Fuuko stood up and retrieved three 6-packs of beer and placed them on the table. "I'm not asking how you smuggled these from the store, but heck, it's gonna be nice to see you drunk."
He glared at her and defiantly replied "I do NOT get drunk."
"Uh huh, sure…" she sat down on the chair and rested her chin on her arms. "So what's for dinner?"
Tokiya headed for the freezer and pulled out a box of frozen lasagna. "This is dinner."
She stared at him incredulously. "You're kidding… You can't let your guest eat microwave lasagna!!!"
'I can and I will," he stated, and probably as an afterthought, added "You've had enough proof of my culinary masteries through that cake."
The girl stuck her tongue out at him and he rolled his eyes. The sound of the microwave whirring was the only thing to be heard inside the fairly large kitchen. Tokiya leaned on the counter, wondering if right now would be the best time to ask her about what she said last night. He glanced at her, and saw her looking straight at him, as if prodding him with her dawn-tinted orbs to take the first step for once.
What did she now about him anyway? They haven't even known each other for a year!
But among all of them in Hokage, she seemed to be the only one who can actually feel comfortable around him. Just like right now… He wondered what would have happened if he had tea with Yanagi instead. She would definitely be a more pleasant site than the loud boisterous girl, but then again, he didn't think Yanagi would be as easeful and open as Fuuko is.
And the idle nonchalance of Fuuko Kirisawa was something he felt that won him over again.
He moved his head away and his gaze rested on the beer… Perhaps it was better if he asked right now. It would be rather hard to make a drunk Fuuko talk, much less talk about something as complicated as pride. Not that he was going to get her drunk. That was the last thing he wanted….
"Fuuko."
"Yeah?"
It was time to get this over with...
The microwave beeped.
Or maybe not.
"Dinner's ready," he said in a resigned voice.
Fuuko let out a small sigh. So much for that small step. "Okay."
TBC
A/N: er, i'm kinda losing my touch here. experiencing the dreaded writer's block and all. have no idea what to do next... }:( anyway, will try my best to come up with a better chap next time...
A Cup of Tea
Chapter 7
Fuuko followed closely behind while Tokiya led the way to his kitchen. She has slightly grown accustomed to his house, particularly with his antiquated, Victorian slash gothic style, but there were still some pieces of décor that got her on the goosebumps level. As she, still lost in her own thoughts, turned around the blind corner, she came face to face with an old ball-metal statue of a cherubim, whose oddly formed face-with the bulging cheeks and puffy eyes- alarmed her.
Clearly startled by bronze figure, she quickened her pace and promised herself not to doze off while walking. Mikagami's house was pretty huge, and if she didn't watch her surroundings carefully, she might get lost. Or worse, she might run into a medieval armors she'd seen in those movies that suddenly come to life when one's alone.
So now she walked directly behind her host for the night, not even a foot away from him, much to Mikagami's vexation. He knew about Fuuko's little encounter with one of his many bronze sculptures. He distinctly heard that loud yelp of surprise, and the quick footsteps that followed afterwards. What he didn't expect was for the girl to chivy right behind him, to the point that he could actually feel her quick, warm breathing just below the nape of his back.
Now that decidedly got him on his goosebumps level.
"Ever thought of renting your house for a horror flick, Mi-chan?" she piped up, probably in order to lighten up the dark mood being set off by the corridor.
"The thought never crossed me, but I will consider," he mused. "Who's going to star, by the way, you?" He saw her grinning through the corner of his eyes.
"I just had an idea. You can be like, Mr. Scrooge, and me, Recca and Domon can do the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future," she laughed, seeing the image of a wrinkly old Tokiya Mikagami as Mr. Scrooge settled on a tall velvet chair by the fireplace smoking tobacco. Though the wrinkly an old part was rather hard for her to imagine, she knew very well that he didn't have to act much to get into the part.
Then they reached his kitchen, and much to Fuuko's amazement, it wasn't as dreary and imposing as the other parts of his house. Probably because it overlooked the garden and the draperies were set high to let what light was left outside in. Everything seemed to be in order, and Fuuko was definitely amazed at Mikagami's ability to keep his kitchen immaculate after baking such a palatable masterpiece. Whenever she tried to bake, the kitchen was always bound to look like a disaster area, and her gourmet creations weren't exactly what one would call delectable either.
"This… This is you kitchen, Mi-chan?"
"You certainly don't think it's the bedroom, do you?" he derided.
Fuuko crossed her arms and retorted. "Well I certainly didn't think you'd take enough time to actually pick up flowers for this part of your house if you didn't spend most of your time in here." She fingered the petals of the daisies that lead in the glass vase on the middle of the table.
"What makes you say that?" he asked while fishing through the cupboards.
"You don't have flowers anywhere else in this place save for the garden and here," she pointed out. "So do you really hang out in the kitchen more often?"
He, feeling slightly vulnerable that Fuuko can actually tell a lot about him just by his decorating purposes, turned back to give her this pointed look and then reluctantly nodded.
"I'm a kitchen girl myself", she admitted. "But I'm not really good. I just like hanging out 'coz of the food. And the fridge!" And then a crazy thought went to her head. "Hey, Mi-chan, mind if I check out your fridge? You know, the saying you are what you eat…"
But Fuuko didn't wait any longer for his answer as she headed straight for his refrigerator. He, on the other hand, was startled enough by the announcement she gave. Fuuko Kirisawa was about to raid his fridge. Who knows what kind of destruction she'll cause? That and he did believe to some extent the traditional saying of comestibles' effect on ones' personality, or whichever way that goes. He didn't intend for her to suddenly divulge to the whole campus every little thing to be found in his abode. He didn't even intend for her to realize so many things about him in such a short span of time.
And he didn't even think she realizes how much it alarms him to have someone actually see, even in the vaguest sense, what he really is like.
He had a reputation to hold on to. He didn't want her imposing on it. He had his pride, still.
But she said he had nothing to be proud of.
"Hm, eggs, ham, fruits…"
If he had nothing to be proud of, does he still have his pride?
"Ohh… chocolates!!"
He needed to know.
"Hey, Mi-chan," Fuuko's head popped out from the fridge's door. "You're human after all!"
"Excuse me?"
Fuuko stood up and retrieved three 6-packs of beer and placed them on the table. "I'm not asking how you smuggled these from the store, but heck, it's gonna be nice to see you drunk."
He glared at her and defiantly replied "I do NOT get drunk."
"Uh huh, sure…" she sat down on the chair and rested her chin on her arms. "So what's for dinner?"
Tokiya headed for the freezer and pulled out a box of frozen lasagna. "This is dinner."
She stared at him incredulously. "You're kidding… You can't let your guest eat microwave lasagna!!!"
'I can and I will," he stated, and probably as an afterthought, added "You've had enough proof of my culinary masteries through that cake."
The girl stuck her tongue out at him and he rolled his eyes. The sound of the microwave whirring was the only thing to be heard inside the fairly large kitchen. Tokiya leaned on the counter, wondering if right now would be the best time to ask her about what she said last night. He glanced at her, and saw her looking straight at him, as if prodding him with her dawn-tinted orbs to take the first step for once.
What did she now about him anyway? They haven't even known each other for a year!
But among all of them in Hokage, she seemed to be the only one who can actually feel comfortable around him. Just like right now… He wondered what would have happened if he had tea with Yanagi instead. She would definitely be a more pleasant site than the loud boisterous girl, but then again, he didn't think Yanagi would be as easeful and open as Fuuko is.
And the idle nonchalance of Fuuko Kirisawa was something he felt that won him over again.
He moved his head away and his gaze rested on the beer… Perhaps it was better if he asked right now. It would be rather hard to make a drunk Fuuko talk, much less talk about something as complicated as pride. Not that he was going to get her drunk. That was the last thing he wanted….
"Fuuko."
"Yeah?"
It was time to get this over with...
The microwave beeped.
Or maybe not.
"Dinner's ready," he said in a resigned voice.
Fuuko let out a small sigh. So much for that small step. "Okay."
TBC
A/N: er, i'm kinda losing my touch here. experiencing the dreaded writer's block and all. have no idea what to do next... }:( anyway, will try my best to come up with a better chap next time...