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 12
He, also fresh from the shower and in his own pajamas, returned 45 minutes later to her room with a tray of goodies in his hands.
But Fuuko was too preoccupied to even notice that Tokiya Mikagami was standing before her donning the wet-look that every girl in campus would willingly die for just to see, as well as the tray of goodies: another pot of tea and assorted cookies.
Sighing, Mikagami placed the tray on top of the dresser and pulled a nearby chair over. It was one of those rare moments that he could sit down and just contently watch Fuuko Kirisawa in all her… annoyingly irritating yet amusing naivete.
"Need help?" he offered out of something akin to sympathy and mirth.
"Ergh, Fuuko-ack! Kirisawa does NOT- itaai! Need help! K'so!"
Smirking, he poured himself a cup of the warm drink and leaned back on the chair, knowing fully well that the girl would never admit defeat. "Are you sure?" he asked again.
"Yea-ugh. I can do this, see?" but Fuuko knew how terribly pathetic she looked right at that moment.
"Suit yourself Kirisawa," he replied nonchalantly. "I'll be here quietly munching these cookies while you make a fool out of yourself."
The flustered girl immediately ceased her movements and finally paid attention to him. Or rather, the cookies. She reached towards the dresser and gingerly picked one. "Did you bake them?" she asked out of curiosity.
"I'm not a bakeshop, Fuuko."
Fuuko was able to finish one in just two bites. "I'd figure. This tastes even better than the cake." She reached for another one and poured the tea on the empty cup. Balancing the teacup between her legs, and the cookie in her mouth, she resumed her earlier business of trying to yank the brush that seemed to have taken permanent residence in the tangled purple mass that is her hair. But instead, the task even seemed more daunting as the cup wobbled violently and cookie crumbs were starting to fall on the pristine sheets.
"You're messing the bed," he pointed out.
An irritated grunt was her reply.
"It would be easier if you do one thing at a time."
He'd never admit it out loud, true as it may seem, that he did probably spend most of his time in line for drop-dead looks, superior IQ, cook extraordinaire and genius painter, in place of those necessary values and virtues the saints probably fell in line for. But he was no saint. Therefore explaining his pateince running dry with Fuuko's antics. Especially if the immaculate bedsheets he got from Germany were at risk.
"I know multi-tasking is one of your favorite hobbies, Kirisawa, but I hardly think you need to do that in a situation like this."
The highly fed up girl stopped, drank the tea in one gulp and placed the cup back on the drawer. She then proceeded to stuff in her mouth 2 more cookies. Drank more tea and resumed her earlier pulling position. "I don't see you doing anything to help."
"That's because you were too busy acting like a prat to notice."
She 'hmphd' loudly and glowered at him before finally scooting a little to the head of the bed. Mikagami placed his own cup down and immediately went to business.
The tableau in itself would definitely be regarded as extremely entertaining for both parties, and they would have very much willingly accepted it, save for the fact that Fuuko was visibly clenching her jaw as a way of repressing the pain coming from her head, to which Mikagami was exerting an enormous amount of control to not whip out his ensui and just lop off the unruly clump of her hair that seems to be magnetized to the brush.
"Just what do you use on your hair, Fuuko?" he muttered as he gave another strong pull.
"Facial soap."
The pulling immediately stopped and Tokiya blurted out his surprise in a highly unusual incredulous voice. "Facial soap?"
Fuuko rolled her eyes and took another cookie. "Sometimes, you're even more gullible than Domon."
She didn't see his face as she was sitting before him, but she knew very well that one of his perfectly formed smirks had graced his face. Contrary to her initial belief on how this 'sleepover' would be like-a warm shower, stiff change of clothing and a crisp good night, if there was supposed to be any at all, considering how unnecessarily impulsive she acted. But she felt more comfortable now, with yet another thing at the back of her head saying that all was well with them now, regardless of what happened earlier.
Feeling oddly at peace with feel of Mikagami's old shirts keeping her warm, with the exotic yet palatable taste of the his perfectly blended tea, and his unusually soft warm hands which he had expected to be hard and callused, seeing how hard he pushes himself every time he trains… She sighed, and unconsciously leaned back on his chest and grabbed yet another cookie.
If Tokiya took any notice, or minded her actions in the very least, he didn't say anything and just went on with the tedious job of untangling the brush from her hair.
A commodious silence filled the room, probably the first relaxed one they've had for the whole day, in which most of their stillness was filled with tension.
"Hey, Mii-chan," she mumbled after finally finishing off the last cookie. She was now amusing herself by stirring the cup of tea in her hands. At least, that was what she made herself believe that was amusing her. She'd never admit out loud that she actually liked leaning against Mikagami's lithe body, or having his hands mess with her hair. Although an even more amusing bit to it all was that she probably wasn't even aware of what she-or even he-was doing in that moment. All she knew was that she felt safe… And warm. And cozy…
And inexplicably insightful. Must be the tea, she thought.
"Why'd you write an essay about pride anyway?"
Because I thought I'd rant about how my pride is slowly destroying me right now. Or how pride led me to this way of life, and has now left me to fend off for myself. Or how it stays with me still, tempting me to make a move, eagerly awaiting my demise…
"I don't know."
The phrase sounded so foreign to his lips. He was Tokiya Mikagami. He always knew! Mikagami-san, ? Sempai, can I have your number? No. Mikagami, what's the answer to number 11? Cube root of 132xy squared. Young man, can you tell me where this place is? 3 blocks down the street.
And he found himself wondering just how much he didn't know when he was around her.
"Oh… That's nice. I thought you knew everything." She said in a voice that seemed far away.
"I don't."
"Well I think you do. At least," she paused. "At least I think you know why you wrote about pride…"
He tugged harder on the brush causing Fuuko to give a little yelp. "You know too much for your own good."
"Mm, yes, I guess… Just like the way we're too proud for our own good."
"Point taken, Kirisawa." He silently wondered if the girl was even aware of what she was saying as he peered down to see her with her eyes gently closed and small playful smile tugging at her lips. She seemed blissfully unaware of everything and anything, yet still she can stupefy him with this kind of sagacity that she rarely shows. "What are you proud of the most?" he asked discreetly, hoping that his query wouldn't break her chain of thought, or whatever happy happy lalala dimension she seemed to be in.
Fuuko shifted so that her head was now leaning on his shoulder. She reached for a pillow and plopped it between her crossed legs. "I dunno…" she admitted. "Maybe, well, when I was a kid, I used to be proud of being a bully."
In his mind, Tokiya pictured a tiny girl with ruffled purple hair atop a mass of bruised boys.
"I mean, fighting is the only thing I'm proud of, y'know. The only thing I could do well… I could, like, take down six 12 year olds when I was 7. And now… And now I managed to prove what I can do in the UBS. Makes me feel real nice and all."
"Are you still proud of it until now?"
"Oh no… It's ironic, really. After the UBS, I'm not so proud of my abilities as I used to be…"
"So what are you proud of now?"
A contented sigh escaped her lips. "Living… My life."
Definitely not the answer he was expecting. He half wondered if the tea had something to do with it. He was a hundred percent sure that no drugs were added to it as he made it himself, as well as the cookies. But perhaps, as she had admitted to him earlier that evening in the middle of her fury, it was one of those times that she just blurts out things that she doesn't really mean.
Although still, he knew that she means it. Every word she has said. Much like the saying goes that jokes are always half meant, Fuuko Kirisawa's words, no matter how absurd, amusing or antagonizing they are, it means a lot more than she makes them up to be.
It was probably all he needed to complete his essay as well.
Should he press on for more answers, or should he venture on the idea by himself? She seemed tired, more like drugged, pointed out the tiny voice in his head, and indeed she did look a little dazed off, with a tiny smile than bordered to a smirk playing on her lips and a far-away look on her eyes. Was it him, or did her skin seem paler, and at the same time glowing off some sort of radiance within…?
Scratch that. She wasn't drugged. He was, obviously, having delusions of incandescent lights emanating from Kirisawa's skin. If she uses facial soap on her hair, maybe she uses shampoo on her body. Is that why she has that weird glowing thing going on? (A/N: Uy, Vaseline! Haha! ^o^)
And in that moment he realized that he has long ago finished untangling the brush from her hair, and he was just now letting her lean on him freely, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. That is, for her to lean on him, cup of tea in hand, while he rested his own body at the head of the bed, his own silvery mane draping over both their heads.
"So man is proud of the wrong things, then?"
"I guess you could say that."
"And you're proud of the right thing."
"I never said I was sure… It's what I think. What I believe in. I'd take a chance in believing something right now, rather than to wait for something to be proven for along time and not believe in anything at all."
"Like in God?"
"Yup, just like God."
"You know, I never really believed in God," Warning bells suddenly blew off in his head, signaling that it was a new uncharted territory he was crossing, and that if he went further than this, well, he had no idea what would happen, but he was pretty sure he would need more tea to figure it out. And that would mean a tea partner to help him figure it out…
Fuuko languidly stretched her arms and gave a big yawn. "That's nice, Mi-chan…"
"Uh, sure." Was all that he could reply, partly because he was surprised that that was all Fuuko said, but then he reminded himself that she was probably tired and her brain was getting cloudy, just as his brain was getting even cloudier by the moment. Yes, they were just probably too tired. It has been a very exciting day after all. "Listen Kirisawa, I think you should go to-"
The words left hanging from his mouth as the girl has already draped her upper body on his lap, head gently resting on his lower abdomen. Only the soft snoring sound could be heard, as well as the now gentle pattering of the rain.
Sighing, he extracted himself from her and repositioned her gently on the bed. The comforter was draped on the sleeping form, and with a bit of hesitation, he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.
If Fuuko were awake she would've felt her blood freeze at this action. But she was sleeping, all she felt, or thought she felt as she was continuing her way towards dreamland, was the ethereal graze of soft lips touching her.
It took the thunderous clap of lighting outside to make him realize just what he did. In that instant, he quickly pulled away staring at the sleeping girl in disbelief. What on earth did he just do? The question itself was very much directed to his uncalled achievement as no one (at least in his extensive knowledge) has ever managed to kiss Fuuko Kirisawa before. She was an 'untouchable' among the campus girls, so to say, literally and figuratively, lest you want a one-way trip to some distant galaxy.
And it wasn't just the kiss… It was everything else. Now that he looked at it, everything that happened today was rather surreal. As if everything happened in some alternate dimension, and he was stuck in the real world, watching the unreal Tokiya Mikagami having tea, and actually enjoying the company of the wind-wielder.
His logic, which was considerably of a higher level compared to his peers, managed to delve itself in the intricacies of his emotions and pointed out that he was indeed caught in the web of denial.
He was an advocate of his brain. It carried him through, made him superior to everyone around him. He knew that everything happened there, including whatever emotion he might be feeling. The heart does nothing more than pump blood. It does not hold all his innermost desires. Everything was in his head, including most of his hormones and the things that trigger those said hormones that in turn makes him feel this feeling of denial…
Ever the logical brain that is Tokiya Mikagami. He sighed. Now is not the time to think about this, he resolved. But in place for all this emotional mumbo-jumbo he was experiencing, he managed to squeeze out some juice for his essay, and for that he was extremely thankful. Yes, he can always think about this some time in the future (though his subconscious was obviously set on the dial 'forget') but right now, he has an essay to finish.
TBC
Hopefully, next chapter will be the last. Finally! ^_^
A Cup of Tea
Chapter 12
He, also fresh from the shower and in his own pajamas, returned 45 minutes later to her room with a tray of goodies in his hands.
But Fuuko was too preoccupied to even notice that Tokiya Mikagami was standing before her donning the wet-look that every girl in campus would willingly die for just to see, as well as the tray of goodies: another pot of tea and assorted cookies.
Sighing, Mikagami placed the tray on top of the dresser and pulled a nearby chair over. It was one of those rare moments that he could sit down and just contently watch Fuuko Kirisawa in all her… annoyingly irritating yet amusing naivete.
"Need help?" he offered out of something akin to sympathy and mirth.
"Ergh, Fuuko-ack! Kirisawa does NOT- itaai! Need help! K'so!"
Smirking, he poured himself a cup of the warm drink and leaned back on the chair, knowing fully well that the girl would never admit defeat. "Are you sure?" he asked again.
"Yea-ugh. I can do this, see?" but Fuuko knew how terribly pathetic she looked right at that moment.
"Suit yourself Kirisawa," he replied nonchalantly. "I'll be here quietly munching these cookies while you make a fool out of yourself."
The flustered girl immediately ceased her movements and finally paid attention to him. Or rather, the cookies. She reached towards the dresser and gingerly picked one. "Did you bake them?" she asked out of curiosity.
"I'm not a bakeshop, Fuuko."
Fuuko was able to finish one in just two bites. "I'd figure. This tastes even better than the cake." She reached for another one and poured the tea on the empty cup. Balancing the teacup between her legs, and the cookie in her mouth, she resumed her earlier business of trying to yank the brush that seemed to have taken permanent residence in the tangled purple mass that is her hair. But instead, the task even seemed more daunting as the cup wobbled violently and cookie crumbs were starting to fall on the pristine sheets.
"You're messing the bed," he pointed out.
An irritated grunt was her reply.
"It would be easier if you do one thing at a time."
He'd never admit it out loud, true as it may seem, that he did probably spend most of his time in line for drop-dead looks, superior IQ, cook extraordinaire and genius painter, in place of those necessary values and virtues the saints probably fell in line for. But he was no saint. Therefore explaining his pateince running dry with Fuuko's antics. Especially if the immaculate bedsheets he got from Germany were at risk.
"I know multi-tasking is one of your favorite hobbies, Kirisawa, but I hardly think you need to do that in a situation like this."
The highly fed up girl stopped, drank the tea in one gulp and placed the cup back on the drawer. She then proceeded to stuff in her mouth 2 more cookies. Drank more tea and resumed her earlier pulling position. "I don't see you doing anything to help."
"That's because you were too busy acting like a prat to notice."
She 'hmphd' loudly and glowered at him before finally scooting a little to the head of the bed. Mikagami placed his own cup down and immediately went to business.
The tableau in itself would definitely be regarded as extremely entertaining for both parties, and they would have very much willingly accepted it, save for the fact that Fuuko was visibly clenching her jaw as a way of repressing the pain coming from her head, to which Mikagami was exerting an enormous amount of control to not whip out his ensui and just lop off the unruly clump of her hair that seems to be magnetized to the brush.
"Just what do you use on your hair, Fuuko?" he muttered as he gave another strong pull.
"Facial soap."
The pulling immediately stopped and Tokiya blurted out his surprise in a highly unusual incredulous voice. "Facial soap?"
Fuuko rolled her eyes and took another cookie. "Sometimes, you're even more gullible than Domon."
She didn't see his face as she was sitting before him, but she knew very well that one of his perfectly formed smirks had graced his face. Contrary to her initial belief on how this 'sleepover' would be like-a warm shower, stiff change of clothing and a crisp good night, if there was supposed to be any at all, considering how unnecessarily impulsive she acted. But she felt more comfortable now, with yet another thing at the back of her head saying that all was well with them now, regardless of what happened earlier.
Feeling oddly at peace with feel of Mikagami's old shirts keeping her warm, with the exotic yet palatable taste of the his perfectly blended tea, and his unusually soft warm hands which he had expected to be hard and callused, seeing how hard he pushes himself every time he trains… She sighed, and unconsciously leaned back on his chest and grabbed yet another cookie.
If Tokiya took any notice, or minded her actions in the very least, he didn't say anything and just went on with the tedious job of untangling the brush from her hair.
A commodious silence filled the room, probably the first relaxed one they've had for the whole day, in which most of their stillness was filled with tension.
"Hey, Mii-chan," she mumbled after finally finishing off the last cookie. She was now amusing herself by stirring the cup of tea in her hands. At least, that was what she made herself believe that was amusing her. She'd never admit out loud that she actually liked leaning against Mikagami's lithe body, or having his hands mess with her hair. Although an even more amusing bit to it all was that she probably wasn't even aware of what she-or even he-was doing in that moment. All she knew was that she felt safe… And warm. And cozy…
And inexplicably insightful. Must be the tea, she thought.
"Why'd you write an essay about pride anyway?"
Because I thought I'd rant about how my pride is slowly destroying me right now. Or how pride led me to this way of life, and has now left me to fend off for myself. Or how it stays with me still, tempting me to make a move, eagerly awaiting my demise…
"I don't know."
The phrase sounded so foreign to his lips. He was Tokiya Mikagami. He always knew! Mikagami-san, ? Sempai, can I have your number? No. Mikagami, what's the answer to number 11? Cube root of 132xy squared. Young man, can you tell me where this place is? 3 blocks down the street.
And he found himself wondering just how much he didn't know when he was around her.
"Oh… That's nice. I thought you knew everything." She said in a voice that seemed far away.
"I don't."
"Well I think you do. At least," she paused. "At least I think you know why you wrote about pride…"
He tugged harder on the brush causing Fuuko to give a little yelp. "You know too much for your own good."
"Mm, yes, I guess… Just like the way we're too proud for our own good."
"Point taken, Kirisawa." He silently wondered if the girl was even aware of what she was saying as he peered down to see her with her eyes gently closed and small playful smile tugging at her lips. She seemed blissfully unaware of everything and anything, yet still she can stupefy him with this kind of sagacity that she rarely shows. "What are you proud of the most?" he asked discreetly, hoping that his query wouldn't break her chain of thought, or whatever happy happy lalala dimension she seemed to be in.
Fuuko shifted so that her head was now leaning on his shoulder. She reached for a pillow and plopped it between her crossed legs. "I dunno…" she admitted. "Maybe, well, when I was a kid, I used to be proud of being a bully."
In his mind, Tokiya pictured a tiny girl with ruffled purple hair atop a mass of bruised boys.
"I mean, fighting is the only thing I'm proud of, y'know. The only thing I could do well… I could, like, take down six 12 year olds when I was 7. And now… And now I managed to prove what I can do in the UBS. Makes me feel real nice and all."
"Are you still proud of it until now?"
"Oh no… It's ironic, really. After the UBS, I'm not so proud of my abilities as I used to be…"
"So what are you proud of now?"
A contented sigh escaped her lips. "Living… My life."
Definitely not the answer he was expecting. He half wondered if the tea had something to do with it. He was a hundred percent sure that no drugs were added to it as he made it himself, as well as the cookies. But perhaps, as she had admitted to him earlier that evening in the middle of her fury, it was one of those times that she just blurts out things that she doesn't really mean.
Although still, he knew that she means it. Every word she has said. Much like the saying goes that jokes are always half meant, Fuuko Kirisawa's words, no matter how absurd, amusing or antagonizing they are, it means a lot more than she makes them up to be.
It was probably all he needed to complete his essay as well.
Should he press on for more answers, or should he venture on the idea by himself? She seemed tired, more like drugged, pointed out the tiny voice in his head, and indeed she did look a little dazed off, with a tiny smile than bordered to a smirk playing on her lips and a far-away look on her eyes. Was it him, or did her skin seem paler, and at the same time glowing off some sort of radiance within…?
Scratch that. She wasn't drugged. He was, obviously, having delusions of incandescent lights emanating from Kirisawa's skin. If she uses facial soap on her hair, maybe she uses shampoo on her body. Is that why she has that weird glowing thing going on? (A/N: Uy, Vaseline! Haha! ^o^)
And in that moment he realized that he has long ago finished untangling the brush from her hair, and he was just now letting her lean on him freely, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. That is, for her to lean on him, cup of tea in hand, while he rested his own body at the head of the bed, his own silvery mane draping over both their heads.
"So man is proud of the wrong things, then?"
"I guess you could say that."
"And you're proud of the right thing."
"I never said I was sure… It's what I think. What I believe in. I'd take a chance in believing something right now, rather than to wait for something to be proven for along time and not believe in anything at all."
"Like in God?"
"Yup, just like God."
"You know, I never really believed in God," Warning bells suddenly blew off in his head, signaling that it was a new uncharted territory he was crossing, and that if he went further than this, well, he had no idea what would happen, but he was pretty sure he would need more tea to figure it out. And that would mean a tea partner to help him figure it out…
Fuuko languidly stretched her arms and gave a big yawn. "That's nice, Mi-chan…"
"Uh, sure." Was all that he could reply, partly because he was surprised that that was all Fuuko said, but then he reminded himself that she was probably tired and her brain was getting cloudy, just as his brain was getting even cloudier by the moment. Yes, they were just probably too tired. It has been a very exciting day after all. "Listen Kirisawa, I think you should go to-"
The words left hanging from his mouth as the girl has already draped her upper body on his lap, head gently resting on his lower abdomen. Only the soft snoring sound could be heard, as well as the now gentle pattering of the rain.
Sighing, he extracted himself from her and repositioned her gently on the bed. The comforter was draped on the sleeping form, and with a bit of hesitation, he leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead.
If Fuuko were awake she would've felt her blood freeze at this action. But she was sleeping, all she felt, or thought she felt as she was continuing her way towards dreamland, was the ethereal graze of soft lips touching her.
It took the thunderous clap of lighting outside to make him realize just what he did. In that instant, he quickly pulled away staring at the sleeping girl in disbelief. What on earth did he just do? The question itself was very much directed to his uncalled achievement as no one (at least in his extensive knowledge) has ever managed to kiss Fuuko Kirisawa before. She was an 'untouchable' among the campus girls, so to say, literally and figuratively, lest you want a one-way trip to some distant galaxy.
And it wasn't just the kiss… It was everything else. Now that he looked at it, everything that happened today was rather surreal. As if everything happened in some alternate dimension, and he was stuck in the real world, watching the unreal Tokiya Mikagami having tea, and actually enjoying the company of the wind-wielder.
His logic, which was considerably of a higher level compared to his peers, managed to delve itself in the intricacies of his emotions and pointed out that he was indeed caught in the web of denial.
He was an advocate of his brain. It carried him through, made him superior to everyone around him. He knew that everything happened there, including whatever emotion he might be feeling. The heart does nothing more than pump blood. It does not hold all his innermost desires. Everything was in his head, including most of his hormones and the things that trigger those said hormones that in turn makes him feel this feeling of denial…
Ever the logical brain that is Tokiya Mikagami. He sighed. Now is not the time to think about this, he resolved. But in place for all this emotional mumbo-jumbo he was experiencing, he managed to squeeze out some juice for his essay, and for that he was extremely thankful. Yes, he can always think about this some time in the future (though his subconscious was obviously set on the dial 'forget') but right now, he has an essay to finish.
TBC
Hopefully, next chapter will be the last. Finally! ^_^