=Late. Short. But... oh well. I wrote at least three one-shot pieces (or four?) and life was hectic around here for a while. I haven't been sleeping due to a lot of work, and I just got Marmalade Boy on DVD. It's thirty three hours, nine DVDs of mostly boring, mushy, uninteresting stuff--but for the stuff that constitutes as content, it's somewhat interesting, so I'll be busy with that for a while. Be sure to IM me! Boing!=

Gilded Chocolate

-Part Five... (fingernails and slapstick phones will break my bones...) Unbridled, Rampaging Recovery.-

"O'okawahara-sama, something came for you in the mail."

Shigeru looked up from the breakfast table and raised her eyebrows. A letter? A package? Something from Tsukushi? Unable to contain herself, she leaped from her seat and hastily took the small item from the alarmed maid and sped back to the table, where she looked briefly at the label to make sure it was from her best friend before tearing open the seal. A wave of postcards tumbled from the standard postal jacket and spread out on the table in a mess of color.

Shigeru squealed as she leafed through the cards: some had beaches, others had muscular, shirtless men, and a select few showed various odd monuments and unfamiliar landmarks. However, only one had anything written on it, so after glancing through the pictures she nabbed it and began to read.

"Shigeru-san,

Give my regards to the others, as I most likely will not have a chance to write any more cards for a while yet. Things are going well, as I write from the Jamaican beach. It's wonderful down here, but I think I've burned a little bit. Doumyouji is off getting us some drinks.

Oh, there he is, I have to go now. I hope I don't look too much like a beach bunny when I get back!

Your best friend,

Tsukushi."

With a wide grin and a backpedal, Shigeru quickly gathered up all the cards excluding the letter and put them back into the packaging, quickly shoveling down the rest of her breakfast before she called the chauffer. Within minutes she was on her way to school to show Sakurako.

Frustration.

"Where is that crazy girl?" Tsukasa muttered to himself, twirling the sleeve of his jacket irritably in his fingers and turning over the button to feel the seal absently with his thumb. He squirmed in the rather annoyingly soft chair, trying to keep himself from sinking into it completely as if it were fluffy water. What was it with Americans and comfort? This was too much.

With a sigh Tsukasa leaned back, casually tilting his head to one side, and glanced briefly at the clock on the far wall. At the sight he jerked up, sitting straight as a rod with wide eyes. "She's an hour late! Damnit," he cursed, standing up and taking his phone out of his pocket. He had told himself earlier that he wouldn't be so overbearing--he wanted to do anything but scare her off again, she could be so skittish about that sort of thing--but that was when she was only ten or twenty minutes late. Tsukasa shivered when he felt a quiet, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The phone rang. And rang. And rang. Furrowing his brow, Tsukasa slammed the phone closed after then tenth or eleventh ring and ran a hand through his hair, leaning for a moment on the wall nearby. He searched the empty lobby with his eyes, passing over the small bar and arrangement of couches and chairs, his gaze finally resting on his chauffer, who was sipping some drink at a table. With one look, the man jumped up, hastily left some money and, worried, frustrated, and angry, Tsukasa followed him out to the car.

"Morris and 113th."

Tsukushi faintly registered a faint weightless feeling, as if her body were swaying in a steady, even rhythm. She was suspended in air but she was not afraid; she was held sturdy, merely allowed to enjoy the free and unrestricted existence while she was still without lucidity. There was warmth, darkness, and a soothing, familiar smell, and Tsukushi knew she was safe. With that pleasant scented mix of light cologne and newly-pressed clothing, there was no doubt.

She curled deeper into the source of her protection as the feeling of weightlessness disappeared and was followed by a loud, ringing noise and a starting engine. She could feel fabric in her hands, with soft fingers holding her powerfully against her safety, her refuge. Tsukushi wanted to sink into the euphoric feeling it gave her--she pressed as close as she could.

She never wanted to wake up from her blissful dream.

When Tsukushi opened her eyes, she was greeted by a bright, blinding white light. She drew one heavy hand over her face to protect her vision before she felt a pair of large, familiar fingers twine with her own. Tsukushi dropped her arm and looked up to find a familiar set of dark brown eyes gazing down at her.

"Doumyouji...?" she managed out, her throat somewhat dry and scratchy. Immediately he sat back and allowed her some room to breathe; she winced when she felt a hand come behind her back and help her into a sitting position. Tsukushi let out a breath when the rim of a cup rested on her lip and she allowed in a slow trickle of cool water.

Relieved somewhat, she finally was able to take in her surroundings: she was in a hospital room, if the stark white walls, medical apparatus, and her position on a small, sterile-white bed were any indication. She looked over at Tsukasa, who was watching her intently, his hand still holding hers.

"What happened?" Tsukushi asked at last, her gaze not wavering. He brought his other hand to her face and drew his fingers across her cheek and up to her hair, where he tucked a lock of it behind her ear and smiled.

"I was hoping you could tell me," he said softly, as if his voice might injure her. "I found you where you called me. You fractured two parts of your back, your collar and one rib. No breaks, but a lot of bumps and bruises." When she only stared at him with wide, brown eyes, Tsukasa--in one swift movement--pulled her into his grasp, settling against the bed as he did so. His arms carefully wrapped around her, avoiding any problematic areas, and he buried his face into her shoulder, murmuring, "Don't scare me like that. I didn't hear from you, and... Makino..."

In one wave of pain, it all came back to her. The shop, the men, crushed against the brick, a kick to the groin--oh, that had been a good one--the blood on her fist. She stiffened in Tsukasa's hold at the memory, and he stroked her hair with one hand. He murmured something incoherent in a low, soothing voice, and she slowly softened against him.

When he finally released her, Tsukushi stared at him in a stunned silence. "Doumyouji," she said at last, feeling a bandage at her side with one finger, "I want to go home." She bit her lip and crossed her hands. "Tsukasa, let's go back. I don't like it here."

"Don't worry. We will."

"Tsukasa," she said again, her voice becoming shaky as her gaze began to shift nervously. She sounded almost desperate. His eyes focused on her intently. "Tsukasa, I want to leave."

"All right," he assured her. With a light kiss to the forehead, Tsukasa put one hand behind her back--avoiding her wounds--and eased her back to the bed, fluffing her pillow with a pat. "Go to sleep," he murmured, leaning over her and letting his kisses trail to both of her closing eyelids, "We'll go."

It wasn't until she had slipped most of the way into unconsciousness when she realized she had called him by his first name.

Three times.

Tsukasa stood outside the hospital room, clutching his fists at his sides tightly. The bastards who had hurt her would be found and punished. There was no doubt in his mind, and he would be the first to inflict his own particular brand of revenge.

She had called him Tsukasa. His fingers slowly eased apart. The tension seemed to leak away when she spoke to him that way; even though he knew it was because of the drugs they had her on to keep her asleep and free of pain, he felt as if they had crossed onto a whole new level together.

Yet, he still had to find them, whoever had hurt her. He was surprised when he had first brought her in, thinking she had gotten the worst of it. He had found her on the ground in an alley, her hand covered in blood and her shirt turning crimson in numerous places, and his fear and apprehension had only grown when he had carried her to the car and she whimpered and pressed closer to him. Luckily, however, most of the blood was not hers--instead the hospital treated her while she lay unconscious for her multiple fractures. The doctors had told him it was surprising none of her bones had broken, for it was apparent that with the violence of whatever had occurred she could have been worse off.

One of the nurses working on the x-rays had commented loud enough for him to hear that Tsukushi seemed to have dealt more damage than received it. He didn't have a doubt. As he stood outside her door against the wall, he smiled.

She was safe. Whoever had hurt her--if they weren't already somewhat battle scarred--would pay dearly, and it was a threat that gave him a sense of peace of mind. Finally allowing himself to relax for the first time in hours, Tsukasa exhaled and crossed the hall to sink into one of the more uncomfortable waiting chairs there. As seldom it was required, he had very limited patience; but as he sat, gazing dully at one stark, white-washed wall, all he waited for was to see Tsukushi's face, bright and well. It really didn't matter how long it took.

Truly, he thought, everything about her required infinite patience. In the beginning, it had been showing her exactly how he felt about her--something that had taken months for him to attain the nerve to do. He had waited for her to respond to him, to give him any sign of reciprocating his feelings: but his efforts were to no avail when, in the end, his silent friend won.

His patience had ruled him over his violence and his jealousy in the end. He was willing to wait for her, even if he waited forever, and his wait had paid off. But sometimes, he thought, it seemed as if she really didn't like him the way he did her. He would win, he and his new person, his restraint and patience. He could for Tsukushi.

So it was that Tsukasa waited in the uncomfortable chair in the stuffy hospital with nothing but his patience to keep him company, anxious to find out exactly what had happened to the funny girl he had lingered so long for.

"Doumyouji. Wake up."

Tsukasa groaned, batting away the hand gently prodding his shoulder. "Jus' a few more minutes," he murmured. At the persistent poking, he opened his eyes and growled, "If you don't leave me alone--"

Tsukushi looked at him, one eyebrow raised, with a look of nonchalance prickling her soft features. "If I don't leave you alone...?" she drew it out, her lips tweaked in a smile. Tsukasa was about to retort when he noticed she had numerous long, white bandages wrapped around her upper body. The main one stretched from her collar under her arm, somewhat like a toga, while a tourniquet bound her chest and middle back. Though she looked normal and not much worse for the wear besides a bruise and scratch or two that were apparent, his eyebrows narrowed at the pale look of her skin.

Rising to his feet slowly, so as not to surprise her, Tsukasa leaned down and gently took her chin with two fingers. She looked surprised at his scrutiny.

"How long have I been asleep?" he asked, taking a step back and putting a hand on her uninjured shoulder. She shook her head.

"I don't know. I woke up about an hour ago and ate something before they let me start moving around. They wanted to keep me in bed, but I don't even hurt anymore!" Tsukushi huffed, earning a smirk from the tall man beside her.

"That's probably because they knocked you out with painkillers," he replied coolly. "When can you leave?"

Her eyes narrowed in irritation, and she moved to sit down, making sure to keep her back straight and off of the back of the chair. No one besides the nurses had stopped in to speak to her yet, and she had assumed that they had informed Tsukasa of everything. She wondered if maybe in fact, they did, he just didn't remember.

"I don't know," she said, "I haven't talked to the doctor yet. All I know is my injuries and how I got here." Tsukushi sighed and shifted, and Tsukasa observed her apparent discomfort for a moment before he sat down beside her. He gently put one arm behind her neck, surprising her at first, and unconsciously made a soothing "shh" sound. After a moment she relaxed into it, using his arm as a pillow but still keeping her back from contact. She let her eyes drift closed.

Tsukasa shifted in a manner suggesting that he was going to speak, so Tsukushi pre-empted him. "There was a little Japanese restaurant in the alley. I wanted to get some miso. I haven't had any Japanese food since we left home." Opening her eyes, she saw and felt Tsukasa lean his head back on the seat just beside her own so his breath tickled her ear. "There were three of them." He visibly tensed, but he said nothing. "I think I probably got away with the least of the injuries," she said with a slight, weak laugh, "one ran away with his tail between his legs and the last thing I remember is the other two out cold."

So strong. She was so strong. Tsukasa had barely thought it when he turned and, like a feather touch, pressed his lips to her soft cheek. Though she didn't flinch from his actions, her eyebrows rose visibly; spurred on by her lack of reprimand and the relief that washed over him at her escape of the situation, he kissed again and let it linger for a moment before drawing back. His hand, held beneath her head, lightly brushed some of her hair.

"I was afraid," he whispered in her ear, letting his low, almost whispered words caress her skin, "when I saw you, bloody, alone, I was afraid."

It took very little coercion on Tsukasa's part to allow Tsukushi's early release from the hospital. "With plenty of painkillers," the doctor had told him, "she should be free from pain. Make sure she's checked up on at least once every three days for the next two weeks, then once per week after that until she's healed. She should also sleep on this foam pad every night and avoid contact as much as possible with her injuries. At night, up the dosage of her medicine just a few hours before bed. She'll need it to be able to sleep." Since Tsukushi had been doing little besides eating and sleeping for the previous day or two, Tsukasa had relayed the instructions to her once they were on the boat.

Though Tsukasa could easily have done the job on his own, he counted a lucky star or two that the ship had been delayed by two days in its departure by a rudder malfunction. So their third--and last--day in New York found Tsukasa leading Tsukushi up the boarding stairs onto the massive cruise liner. It was mid-afternoon, and many other guests had already returned, but many had retired to their rooms for rest. Tsukasa pinned it as a prime opportunity to relax by the pool.

When they arrived in front of Tsukushi's door, he turned to her. "Are you allowed to take those off?" he asked, indicating to the long white bandages that appeared to be holding her small form together. She paused in opening the door and looked up at him thoughtfully.

"Yes, I have a small supply of bandages, but I need help taking them off and putting them on," she replied somewhat sheepishly. "I need to change them every three days, for breathing. The doctor said I don't need the ones for my shoulder and ribs after the first two weeks." Tsukasa nodded his head and held the door open with one hand, using the other to offer support if she needed it while entering the room. As she unconsciously took his fingers in hers, he smiled faintly and followed her inside.

"I was thinking we should go swimming, while the pool is still empty," Tsukasa suggested at last while bringing in their bags from the hallway. "I can help you with the bandages. If you sit in the hot tub, I'm sure it will help your muscles relax." Tsukushi eased herself down to sit on the bed and raised both eyebrows at him, without responding. When he put her last bag, her purse, down on the table, he came to sit beside her.

She thought that it was a terrible time to have feminine issues. She eyed her purse nervously--she had been wary of him taking it, but she had no choice, and she certainly didn't want to go swimming. Sitting in the hot, bubbling water sounded marvelous.

"I think I need to sleep," she said at last, sighing inwardly at his crestfallen look. "How about in a few days?" Expecting a retort, Tsukushi was pleasantly surprised when he merely sat down next to her and gently used his hand to lean her head against his shoulder. He leaned down to speak close to her ear.

"I'll wake you up in time for dinner."

With that he stood up and crossed the room, picked up the foam pad lying on the dresser, and brought it over to set down on the bed. Before she could protest Tsukasa gently eased her to a lying position on top of it and pulled a blanket up from the foot of the bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and bent over, dropping his lips to her ear, and murmured, "Sleep well."

Tsukushi opened her mouth to respond, but when she could find nothing to say, she floundered like a fish for a moment before nodding her head in acquiescence. He smiled and stood up, flipped off the lights, and left.

Finally outside the door, Tsukasa stumbled to a halt against the wall. He leaned against it perilously, his back arched somewhat, and his hand trembled as he drew it up to rub his face with a long, tired sweep. He wondered briefly if his legs would give out underneath him as a tremor ran down his spine.

Never before had he wanted so badly to climb into bed beside her, wrap his arms around her little waist, and make sure that she was safe and would never leave his side again. Shock had numbed him for the past two days, it seemed; but seeing her, helpless, injured, he burned with rage and slumped in complete defeat at the same time. If he had been able, Tsukasa would have sought out and destroyed in the slowest, most painful way possible those who had hurt Tsukushi.

But she needed him. And whatever she needed, he was sure to be there to give it.

Tsukasa anxiously jabbed the remote with his thumb. The channel changed again to some nature show. He groaned. American television was the worst he had ever seen.

He had known that Tsukushi would take a long time to get ready, but he wasn't prepared to pass an hour and a half doing absolutely nothing but waiting. It wasn't even a special occasion--it was merely going for dinner and a short walk around the deck. So, naturally, he had begun to daze from boredom when a sudden shout startled him, and he fell less than gracefully off of the couch.

The shout came again, and he distinctly recognized it as Tsukushi's voice. In seconds he bolted upright, pulled open both the lounge room and her bedroom's doors, and paused momentarily when he didn't see her anywhere inside of her room.

"Makino? Where are you?" he called, noting distinctly the disarray of her bags and various items around the closed bathroom door.

A much quieter, somewhat embarrassed-sounding voice called from behind, "In here..." Without waiting another moment Tsukasa pushed the door open, feeling his toe stub as he tripped inside upon the sight of Tsukushi standing in nothing but a towel and her various bandages. She let out a startled squeak and stumbled backwards--barely catching herself on the towel rack--and her mouth made a firm 'O.'

"What's wrong?" he asked loudly, though concerned, and rushed over to help her up. At the presentation of the idea she might be injured, he completely forgot she was clothed only with a towel.

As she stared at him a strong, red blush crossed her fair cheeks. His concern overtaken by curiosity, Tsukasa raised both eyebrows; she began to stutter and made empty gestures with her hands. "I-I can't ge-get the bandages o-off by my-myself," Tsukushi managed at last and kept her eyes glued to the floor.

At this, Tsukasa smiled. He reached out to touch her chin--she didn't flinch--and lifted it so that she looked directly into his eyes, brushed back a lock of her hair, and moved his hands to her shoulders to turn her so that her back faced him. Flustered beyond all reason Tsukushi tried to turn her head to look at him, but he shook his head and indicated to the towel. "Hold onto it, I'll have to take it off of your shoulders, but I'll hold it down here," he told her, indicating to where he was suddenly holding the towel together on her back just below the tourniquet.

"O-okay," she replied nervously, face still glowing red, but did as she was told. Tsukasa almost laughed when he heard her gulp as he pulled the towel open around her back. He reached just under her arm on one side and removed the pin holding the long tapes of binding there. As he pulled it away his eyes briefly caught the curve of one breast, but no more--and for that he was grateful. Having dealt with what he considered one of the more problematic areas, he drew the bandage off where it went around her opposite shoulder, moving slowly so that nothing caught on its way up in the front, and quickly disposed of it when he had finished. He removed the pin on her upper back, where the tape wrapped around her chest and instructed briefly for her to pull it loose in the front--at which time he had to draw the towel together in the back so she could release it enough where she was working--then disposed of that as well. At last, he unpinned and untied the tourniquet.

"There, I think you can remove the rest yourself," Tsukasa told her in an unusually soft voice. As he turned to leave, he paused at Tsukushi's quiet, pleading, "Wait."

She continued when she didn't hear the door open. "I'll... need help putting them on again. Please," she murmured. Tsukasa nodded his head, and turned the doorknob. "And... Doumyouji? Thank you."

Smiling, though she couldn't see, he left the bathroom and closed the door behind him.