The Taki and Wufei Story
Chapter 4: What Was Lost
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"She was at the funeral."
Wufei can hear Duo's frown through the phone line. "She was? Then why didn't I see her?"
Keeping his voice low so as not to wake the woman asleep in the next room, Wufei says, "She said she didn't want to be seen."
"Why would she want that?" Duo muses aloud.
Wufei sighs. "That's why I'm calling you, Maxwell."
Duo chuckles. "Wow. I've got to mark this day down. Wufei is asking me for advice on women."
His next words are a growl, "Not 'women,' Maxwell. Taki. There's a difference."
"You don't get her, do you?"
Wufei blinks at Duo's complete lack of amusement. The other man sounds... almost... sympathetic. "No," Wufei admits. "I don't understand her. I don't understand why she would hide. Perhaps she didn't know us very long, but George was there. Why wasn't she with him?"
Duo sighs. "I think I see it, Wu. Look, Taki grew up on the streets. Try to image what that would be like. You can't trust anyone or their motives. If you're a child on the streets, there's not a lot you can do to... defend yourself. And both of us know a good offense is the best defense."
"But she was hiding."
"Exactly. Wufei, there are people out there that are more animal than human. If they smell fear or pain, they close in. God knows I've had to deal with that more than once. Everyone's got a... way to cover up their... weakness."
Wufei blinks. "Your smile," he says.
"What?"
"You smile to cover the pain."
There is a long pause on the line. Wufei listens to Duo's long sigh. "Yeah," Duo finally replies. "The grinning idiot. That's me."
"What's Taki?"
"Can't you guess?"
Wufei stops and thinks. "She's... flamboyant and... aggressive."
"That she is. She pushes others before they push her. And when she's too drained to do that, she hides."
Wufei grunts.
"And I know what you think of that, Wufei."
"Of what?"
"Hiding," Duo replies. "Don't judge her too harshly because she hides. It's a reflex."
"I understand."
"I hope so, Wu. Us street kids are headstrong. Nothing to tie us down. Nothing to lose. Just keep it in mind, okay?"
"I will."
"Good." Pause. "Anything else you wanna chat about?"
Wufei tells him, "No. Nothing."
"Then can I please go back to sleep?"
With tiny grin, Wufei says, "Be my guest. Goodnight, Maxwell."
After returning the receiver to its resting place, Wufei turns toward the common room's window. He pulls back the curtain and gazes out at the technological masterpiece before him. He considers the pressures that the architects of the colonies must have been under when designing a new habitat for humans in space and feels a moment of empathy. Somehow, he has to get Taki to care about living again. He just hopes the task isn't as insurmountable as it seems.
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Taki stares at her backpack. She doesn't reach for it, however. Doesn't bother to carry it around the suite with her. She leaves it right where it is. Yesterday, when she'd picked it up and settled it over her shoulder it had felt significantly lighter than she'd remembered. But then, what did she expect after a night spent passed out on the street? Still, she doesn't want to be reminded. And she doesn't have the strength to take an inventory in order to find out what she's lost. So she abandons the backpack. She will deal with it when she can deal with it.
She crosses her arms and leans against the window frame. Damn but this sucks. She stares out at the cityscape and wishes she were home... wherever the hell that would be. Instead she's stuck in this room with him. She can feel the weight of his occasional glances as he works at his computer. She hadn't asked him what he is doing, hadn't really given a damn. She's not even sure why she's still here.
Liar.
Taki looks away from her ghost-reflection in the glass. He'd said he could like her, might care about her. And her morbid, masochistic curiosity makes her wonder... What if...?
Something solid and cool slithers over her shoulders, startling her. She looks down at her leather jacket, then up at Wufei's retreating form. "Am I going somewhere?" she inquires smartly.
He nods, removing his own coat from the closet and pulling it on.
She lifts a brow. "May I ask where?"
"Put your jacket on," he says.
"What for?"
He looks at her. "It's cool outside."
And I give a smelly rat's ass why?
Reluctantly, he adds, "Please."
Without a word, she slides her arms into the sleeves.
Wufei watches as she precedes him out into the hall. The elevator ride to the lobby is passed in silence. As is the stroll down the street. He sends a sidelong glance at her every few steps, worried. Gone from her is the determination, as is the smug gleam in her eyes, and the twitch of her lips betraying a new, clever plot unfurling in her mind. Without them she seems merely irritated at his intrusion in her life. He's never seen Taki merely irritated.
He stops in front of a small park squeezed between two buildings. He gestures to the nearest bench. "Have a seat," he suggests.
She simply looks at him.
Wufei holds her flat gaze for a moment. "I'll just be a minute."
Taki shrugs and takes a seat.
Gladly, he turns away and strides toward a cluster of shops. Seeing her like this—mildly annoyed but not particularly caring enough to put up a good fight—makes him uneasy. As he steps into a take-out place, he glances over his shoulder at her. Duo had said that when she is too tired to pull out her mask, she hides. But... there seems to be more to it than that. Ever since he'd asked her what the incident on the rooftop had meant to her she'd just... withdrawn. He sighs. He just doesn't understand her.
He places an order then visits a neighboring shop while their lunch is being made. By the time he makes it back to Taki, more than 'just a minute' has passed but she says nothing to him about it.
"Come on," he invites.
She glances at the sacks in his grasp and rises. Again, they resume their silent march. Quiet has never bothered Wufei before. In fact, he much prefers it to most idle conversations and brainless music. But Taki's quiet is unsettling. Had he done something? Not done something?
Wufei shakes his head. Duo should have been the one to look after her. Wufei knows he's not qualified to do this. For the love of all things sacred, he doesn't even know what he's supposed to be doing for her.
Twenty minutes of silence comes and goes before Wufei signals a halt by lowering the shopping bags to the ground. They stand at the edge of a field of winter clover in the center of a colony park. Wufei shrugs out of his coat and arranges it on the ground. He can sense Taki's gaze on him as he begins to unpack their lunch. Chopsticks, towelettes, and cartons of noodles are gradually distributed. Taki eats neatly and methodically. Wufei wonders if she's even bothering to notice the taste.
He looks out over the sea of purple, white, and green and says, "The colony I grew up on had a park like this." His eyes narrow in thought. "But then most colonies would, considering they all have the same basic design." He smiles a little, thinking of all the peaceful, flower-studded meadows floating through space. "The flowers were white and pink with five petals." He tilts his head to the side and considers the landscape. "And there were swells of earth. So when there was a breeze you could watch them bending in unison, like the waves of the ocean."
Rather than glancing in Taki's direction, he takes another bite. "They say five isn't a lucky number. But who would think that a simple flower is unlucky? I thought it was just an old superstition." Wufei gently lays his chopsticks down and watches the clover stretch toward the artificial light. "It was peaceful. A good place to read and to be."
He falls silent. Lost in the memory of the place, he's a little surprised by Taki's voice.
"Is it still there?"
He looks her way and meets her gaze. "No," he tells her. "But it is still with me."
She nods and redirects her gaze. Encountering the second bag Wufei had brought with him from the shops, she asks, "There any dessert in that?"
"That depends," he says, picking it up.
"On what?"
"On your definition of 'dessert.'" He hands her the sack.
She sends him a questioning look before peering inside the bag. Slowly, she pulls out a leather-bound journal filled with plain, textured paper, a gold and silver mechanical pencil, and several tubes of lead of varying densities. Taki stares blankly at the supplies for a long moment. But then something clicks in her brain and she realizes that these things are for her. She turns back to Wufei to say something, but he's eating again. She shakes her head and smiles before loading a stick of lead into the pencil and opening the book.
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"Truth or dare?"
Wufei looks up from the report he's typing and eyes Taki over his reading glasses. She's curled up in one of the armchairs, journal spread across her lap, mechanical pencil scratching across one of the pages. "Excuse me?"
"Truth or dare?" she repeats.
Wufei shakes his head and turns back to the pc. "If I choose dare what will I have to do?"
She grins at her drawing-in-progress. "Something hideously embarrassing."
"Like what?"
Taki pauses and with a wistful, serene smile, speculates, "Like opening the window and screaming, 'My name is Chang Wufei and it's my turn to dance with the pickle!'"
Behind the laptop screen, Wufei chokes.
"Liked that one, huh?" she asks.
Wufei makes a mental note to choke more quietly from now on. He grunts mildly in response.
"So? Truth or dare?"
He growls, "Truth, I suppose."
"Oh, good. I was hoping you'd pick that one."
Wufei's fingers hesitate over the keyboard. Played right into her hands, didn't you, Chang? ... Shit.
"What did you want to be when you were a kid?"
He frowns, thinking that question isn't nearly as bad as he'd been expecting. "What I wanted to be when I got older?"
"Naw. I mean, who or what did you pretend to be when you were little? If your fairy godmother had shown up and promised to turn you into anything you wanted, what would you have been?"
He opens his mouth to reply but then glances at her over the screen. He smiles. "Why don't you guess?"
She looks away from her work and arcs a brow at him. He can tell she's about to argue with him about his suggestion, but suddenly her gaze turns speculative. "A milkman," she says.
Both of Wufei's eyebrows go up at that.
"Well?" Taki presses. "Am I close?"
He snorts. "No."
"Okay," she says, unperturbed. "A warlock."
"No."
"A kindergarten teacher?"
"No."
"Am I getting warmer?"
"No."
"Give me a hint."
"What kind of hint?"
"Human, animal, plant, inanimate object, or other?"
Wufei blinks at her. "What constitutes an 'other'?"
"Something non-physical or mythological or metaphysical."
A thought occurs to him. "You've played this game a lot."
She laughs.
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"A dyslexic rabbi?"
Wufei puts down the knife in his hand and looks over his shoulder at his observer.
"Well?" Taki asks, expression hopeful. "Did I guess?"
He sighs. Gesturing with the knife to the sliced mushrooms on the cutting board, he says, "It's your turn."
She blinks. "Huh?"
He tosses her a carrot and offers her the knife, handle first. "Slice."
Taki leans back against the counter. "Oh, no," she says, chucking the carrot right back at him. "Food and I have a one-way relationship. It presents itself to me and I eat it."
He stares at her. "You don't cook?"
"Not if I wanna live."
"I've seen you handle sharp objects before."
"And you lived to tell about it. Congratulations."
"Come here."
Taki eyes him for a moment. He looks right back. He's serious. She sighs. Reluctantly, she closes the journal she'd been sketching in. "Wufei," she says solemnly, "there are few things in this universe that I cannot do. Cooking is one of them."
He doesn't look convinced. "Then I'll show you what to do."
"I think you should know that you're putting Duo's kitchen—as well as the rest of us—in mortal peril. I mean, you wanted this dinner to be a good surprise, right?"
Wufei steps away from the cutting board and gestures for her to take his place. With a long sigh, she does so. "Slice," he tells her, offering the knife.
She hesitates, looking from the sacrificial carrot to the blade and back again. "Um... Oka~ay."
Wufei beings to mix up the sauce, watching out of the corner of his eye as Taki raises the knife. He abandons his creation in an instant, catching her wrist before she can wack the vegetable in two. "Not like that," he tells her.
Taki blinks as Wufei moves behind her, grasping her other hand. Silently, he positions her fingers so that she won't amputate them on accident, adjusts her grip on the knife, and places the edge of the blade at an angle. "Use your arm like a lever," he tells her, his voice low but very close. Hand over hers, he demonstrates. "Rock the blade down."
He watches her give it a few tries, his hands merely resting on hers. Chest brushing against her back, the scent of the hotel shampoo in his lungs, Wufei undergoes a moment completely void of thought. He simply stands and experiences Taki. He remembers the evening at the circus when he'd combed his fingers through her hair in search of the tattoo, recalls the kiss born of frustration and irritation, relives the feel of her body leaning into his embrace on the rooftop. He marvels at how easy it had been for him to just walk away from that. At least, it had seemed easy. He wonders now how much of the pressure around his heart is guilt and how much of it is... regret.
He'd lost something on that building's summit. He'd stopped holding onto his past failures, had let them wash though him, pour out of his skin, and rise up toward the metal dome above him. And then, when the moment had ended, he'd lost something else: the chance to befriend the girl who calls herself Taki Daemon. But, perhaps, that opportunity isn't so lost after all...
Wufei blinks, realizing that she's nearly half finished. With a start, he removes himself from her and returns to the unfinished sauce. Taki completes her task without incident, which is a miracle if there ever was one. She slides back to her place at the counter and picks up her journal and pencil again. For a long moment, however, she doesn't resume her drawing. Instead she watches him work over the stir fry. She decides that even if her help had jinxed dinner, getting to watch him cook would make the adventure well worth it.
She shakes her head and turns back to her sketch. Who knew he could cook? Who knew his voice could be so soft? And who knew his fingertips were so warm? Taki's expression softens into a small grin. It doesn't matter who knew. She knows now.
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~End of Chapter 4~
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Author's Note: Hey there, Shaddowgoddess. Nice to hear from you again! Seak, dude, I love your reviews!! Just thought I'd better warn you: this fic is much shorter than what you're used to from me. In fact, I anticipate only two chapters left from here. I know, I know, but I've still got two more planned for the Zero-one Arc.
