Chp. 4 – Kuroi Tori

A small sound of distress slipped past her lips as she tipped her head back against the doorframe three doors down from the open back door. There, outside, David leaned himself against a tree. Even as the sunlight streamed through the leaves, erasing the shade from half of his face, she could see the pleasurable side to his loneliness. And how well he fit into the passive scenery. He stood, clad in his worn brown bomber jacket, blue jeans that hugged him nicely and fell over the vamp of his timberlands, and black shirt: one that intensified his build. He looked calm. Peaceful. He slipped a hand in his coat pocket and lifted the other against his lips for a long drag of his cigarette. Okay Ayane. Don't panic. Just avoid him and you'll be okay. She told herself.

David lowered his hand as he looked around. Most likely in the direction of the house. He noticed the paint; peeling, aging, blanching, much like himself. He was getting old but not too quickly. Gray hairs haven't even started to sprout from his full head. And he was thankful. He took the time to notice how much yard work needed to be done, and the patio's oak-wood floors that needed to be polished. Once again he dragged.

Ayane pressed forward from behind the wall, making sure to not make any contact with the man, shadowed just under the tree. He watched, catching only a glimpse of her disappearing past another wall. By his quick view, he determined the clothing she wore. Something of the usual consisting of a pair of boot-cut low rider jeans, a long-sleeved cameo blouse that usually started at her shoulders, and kohl Manolo boots with a heel of two inches. It looked as though maybe she was going out. Although he may be mistaken, trying to recall, he thought her hair was pulled back into a ponytail with curls drooping down before her ears. He found his assumption incorrect as she doubled back across the hall. Unbound curls. He watched her as she worked, moving around a few items within the room she occupied. Cleaning. Then… she stopped. And his eyes averted.

God! He's watching me! She thought, drawing interest in a photo mounted on the wall. Her index passed against her lips thoughtfully as she looked at the image of him pressed against a wall, much like he is now, still with a cigarette tucked within the corner of his mouth. She noticed another man beside him, shorter with glasses and a lab coat. He held a simple smile as he had his hand pressed against David's shoulder. Nice friendship, she thought, looking at the two again. She remembered meeting the smaller man. At the party David escorted her to. The one where they danced. She recalled Otacon dancing on stage during Karaoke Hour. He'd begged her to join him as he sung "Macho man." She had sheepishly decided to back out. Besides, she was no 'macho man' more of a 'macho woman'. She remembers being delighted when Otacon managed to pull David onto the stage and how she cheered him on and pushed him to sing. And he did.

David still watched. And he still dragged, reducing the size of the stick. He hesitated… then exhaled in streams. He found some comfort in her smile, watching as her lips curled to form it. As she gently swayed then switched her stance as she continued to look at the photo on the wall. He wondered which photo she was engaged upon. Was it the one of him holding a rifle, drenched in water, sitting along a rock at the beach's waterside? No smile, just a passive stare? A picture taken just minutes after he emerged onto shore. He remembered that day. He prompted Otacon to snap the photo of him to symbolize victory and that he didn't die on the tanker like so many believed. He shut his eyes. Or maybe it was the other photo. Where Liquid and him stood together, side by side in the snow as brothers and not mortal enemies. Where both of them are holding steaming coffee mugs in a toast: for what, he couldn't remember. They were younger and this was years ago. Then his eyes opened once more.  She was gone.

Ayane stood over the kitchen sink, finishing up the bit of dishes that were left after breakfast when David walked in. His last exhale of nicotine escaping through his nose and when he couldn't breathe, his mouth. She sensed him. His presence. She smelt the faint scent of Marlboro cascade through the air and wash away the circulating free, fresh, air. She made little eye contact as he came beside her, dropping a coffee warmer in the sink.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked, the stench dragging on his breath.

"Good." She answered back hesitantly. "What about you?"

Damn! I just had to ask that! Focus Ayane! NO CONTACT!

"Alone." He answered as if indicating something. "I came downstairs when I couldn't sleep."

Ayane nodded, refusing to comment. David looked over her shoulder for the sponge. He had plans of washing his own things.

They stood side by side in silence and David hated the lapsed time that stretched between them. He sighed, finding himself alone again as Ayane dried her hands and moved over to the cabinets. She took the grocery bags from earlier and reached in, stocking the items where they belonged on the shelves. David then dried his hands. He reached into the refrigerator for a can of Heineken then popped the lid as the door closed behind him.

"Got any plans for today?" He finally spoke as he leaned himself against the counter.  Ayane started to shake her head then stopped. What was he planning? Did he want her to do something with him? It is a Friday.

"Yeah. I promised a friend I'd show her around today once her flight got in. She's coming to visit."

"Friend?" He brought the can to his lips and sipped.

"Yeah. Friend."

He looked a bit skeptical. "This 'friend' got a name?"

"None that you would know." she answered, closing the cabinet doors. She packed the bags into one and placed them in a bottom drawer. He nodded. STILL making contact! Stop it!

"Would you and your friend like to join me today? Otacon called. Said he's having a little get-together at his home." He paused as if hesitating to keep a bit of information. "We're invited."

Ayane had her back to him, drawing in a silent breath as she stood in the doorway. She was lying. There was no friend coming over, or visiting. There was no excuse for her not wanting to be with him. Except that he might kiss her again. She was afraid. She turned to face him.

"I'll have to check with this friend. I'll see if she's willing to come… to… the party."

David nodded, setting the can down.

"It starts at 6 p.m.. I hope you'll be ready by then. Uh… if you're going, that is."

She nodded and turned to exit the room. "I'll see."

By five o'clock, Ayane still didn't have a friend to attend the party with. She sighed. David had left for the evening to pick up a few things at the liquor store. He promised Otacon that he wouldn't bring hard liquor but… men will be men. She rolled over in her bed, watching the ceiling, trying to imagine how the rest of the night would go. If she'd even go to the party. I need a lie, she told herself. I can't appear without a friend. What will David think? She groaned, turning on her side.

"A lie is what I need…" she mumbled, cradling her head on a pillow.

Downstairs she heard the front door close followed by a pair of keys hitting a glass table. He was home and he announced it. At the sound of her name, she sat up moving across her room to the door then the hall until finally, she came to meet him in the foyer. She was dressed to perfection. Nothing too flashy and nothing too dull. A navy miniskirt, ivory long-sleeved blouse, and stiletto heels. Comfortable, he noted mentally. His eyes settled on her hair, pulled up into a ponytail at the top of her head. A curly lot forming around her face. He saw that she wore little makeup. A little blush on her cheeks, lipstick, and eye shadow. His stare made her uncomfortable. He noticed then shifted his gaze to look around.

"Where's your friend?"

Ayane lowered her eyes briefly.

"She…couldn't make it." She paused. She needed to press on incase he was waiting to hear an explanation. "Her flight was canceled. Some storm or something."

He nodded, seeing the disappointment on her face.

"Sorry. Are you still willing to come? I just have to get changed then I'm out the door."

She nodded, not wanting to disappoint him. Or Otacon. She admired the scientist. "I'll wait here."

She watched him leave then kneeled near the four brown bags of liquor. Remy Martin, Brandy, Bailey's Cream, Corvoisier, Vodka, Smirnoff. He must be planning to sleep a long time, she concluded. Moments later, he returned, finding her pacing the foyer.

"Sorry." he apologized, fixing his coat over his shoulder. She looked him over. He wore a flannel shirt tucked neatly in a pair of black jeans. Loose fitting jeans that fell over the vamp of his Timberlands. His hair neatly groomed. When he reached the bottom, he twirled, stopping with his arms outstretched. The coat slung over his shoulder, followed in his turn.

"Well?"

She smiled. "Nice."

"Thanks." He answered back, giving a smile of his own. He passed his hands along his pants, quite uncertain about the apparel. "Otacon suggested I come 'dressed to impress'."

She nodded then smiled. "Well, I'm quite impressed."

He smiled, stepping to her side. They fell in step together as they walked toward the door, then past it. The Liquor bags in his arms as she held onto his coat. Once the bags were laid down in the back seat, he set himself to open her car door on his sweet, crimson, 550 Maranello Ferrari. Then advanced to his side. Her plan of distancing herself failed and all because of a simple party. In silence they drove. He at the wheel, her eyes adverted to the window. The light up ahead turned yellow, and he eased the Ferrari to a stop. He looked over to her.

"Something bothering you? I'd like to know whatever it is you're thinking."

She hesitated a moment, drawing her eyes from the window to him. "Just thinking about… my friend." she paused, not wanting to tell him of anymore. Or even elude him on what Meryl said about how he could never love her. She turned back to him. "…If she'll be returning when the storm's calmed down."

"Storm huh?" The light turned green and he started forward, interpreting her statement. "I'm sure she'll come around. If not sooner."

When she didn't respond, he passed her a sympathetic glance. "Meryl got to you didn't she?"

"She seems like a smart woman who knows what she wants."

Which completely avoided his question. "What'd she say to you?"

"Nothing." She looked at him, her gaze almost defiant. He returned his own gaze to the road.

"C'mon. Talk to me, Ayane." He paused, glancing over to catch a glimpse of her face. She rolled her eyes. "…You don't want to talk about it."

"Not particularly. No."

"Don't leave me out like this. Meryl's capable of many things. I'd like to protect you."

" I don't need protecting. I'm capable of handling myself."

"Are you certain? You're acting a bit pissy."

"Yes, I'm certain. Just drive. Okay?" He checked the rearview mirror then jerked the wheel to the right, angling across two lanes of traffic to pull the vehicle to the side of the busy road. The maneuver earned a blare from several horns. He shifted into park, cut the engine and turned to face her.

"No." He said evenly. "It's not okay." He watched as she fisted her hands in her lap.

"Don't tick me off, David. I'm feeling a bit pissy."

"Exactly my point. What'd she say to you? Mind telling me?"

"Yes I do mind. So could you start this heap up and let us get on our way?"

"Wait" he paused, stopping midway to touching the keys. He sat his hand to rest against the Gearshift. "I know what this is about."

When her eyebrows shot up in question, he smiled. "It's about the other day. About us, our kiss."

She drew back, eyes wide with disbelief. "It is not!"

"Of course it is." He said, working to keep his expression serious. "And I understand. You've probably been thinking about it ever since, and wondering when I was going to get around to kissing you again."

Her cheeks flamed. "In your dreams, David!"

He smiled. "Yeah, yeah. My dreams. I'm sure it's been difficult for you to be near me. After all, I'm an incredible stud. And I know that kiss must've rocked your world."

She burst out laughing.

"Stud? Rocked my world? Have you been drinking? I think you have." She indicated with a glance to the back seat of liquor bottles. He worked to look devastated, but couldn't quite suppress the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"You don't have to laugh so loudly. Even we incredible studs have feelings."

She drew in a breath and turned away, breaking the stare when she found their sudden silence to be carried on for more seconds than needed. She shut her eyes. C'mon Ayane. Stop this. Staring would only lead to that kiss he wants so badly. You can't let him have it! Needless to say, David was thinking the same thing. Clearing his throat, he reached for the key, still in the ignition.

"Seems everything's back to normal. Extinguished the pissy part. Try not to let it happen again. Next time we might not be so lucky flying across two lanes."

She shook her head and smiled. "You make me laugh, David."

"That's a good thing, I hope." He said glancing over his shoulder before pulling into traffic. "Of course, I would have preferred 'Oh David, you make me so hot,' but the laugh thing would do."

Groaning, she brought a hand to her head. "Are you ever serious?"

"When in uniform."

"David?"

"Hmm?"

"About that kiss—"

"Mistake, right?"

"Yep."

"Thought so." He glanced over, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "It rocked your world though, right?"

"Oh yeah," she said, rolling her eyes as she smiled. "Big time."

"Thank God. Now my male ego's intact." He exited on a ramp. After the following three lights he made a left and followed through, heading west. They were on their way.

[Go to Chp. 5]