Chapter Sixteen

Fifteen minutes, a lot of nodding on Miaka's part, and a dictionary's worth of expletives later, Genrou ran out of steam.

"…And I –don't– know why I'm even fucking telling you this because there's nothing you can fucking bloody well do anyway and damn if I don't know what I'm going to do either! So I just want this entire freaking, god damned, stupid mess to be done with because I'm so fucking tired of being this fucking, bloody, confused and upset by my fucking, bloody feelings!"

Admirably, Miaka only took a moment to dissect through the vulgarities and obtain the entire sentence, but it took another whole minute to come up with a suitable reaction. Cautiously, his twin pursed her lips thoughtfully, and tried to think of a diplomatic way to break her opinion.

"You're just saying that, Gen-chan. You're really just afraid, aren't you?"

He spluttered, unable to believe what he was hearing. "Stupid pig! Whatever gave you that—"

"It just seems to me that you don't want to –try–, Gen-chan!" she said earnestly, turning to him with wide eyes, wearing a begging expression for him to at least hear her out before storming off. "Don't you see?"

"I most definitely do not fucking see—"

She blew out her breath, slightly exasperated. "I know, that's why I'm telling you now. Can you please try to look at the big picture?"

"All hail to the fucking canvas. I thought even you would have something better than that, no shit."

Miaka fumed as her brother rose, muttering under his breath about how useless sisters were. But she knew him too well, and she could see that the clenching of his fists wasn't really about what she was saying, and neither was his tense, locked jaw. Before she could do anything, however, Genrou had already begun walking away.

Desperate, Miaka leapt to her feet and cupped her hands to her mouth, sucking in a deep breath to holler at the figure that was already crossing the road to the other bend of estates. Her voice reverberated around the empty playground, and carried forward to a curious old lady who had just alighted from her tiny Beetle and had prior to that moment been unloading her groceries.

"YOU'RE THE DUMBASS FOR NOT CHASING AFTER WHAT YOU WANT! STUPID GENROU!"

Genrou gritted his teeth and stopped in mid-stride, fighting the urge to just run to a petrol kiosk, buy a can of kerosene, and come back to set his excuse of a sibling on fire.

Anger management, whoo, and breeeeeeeathe agaaaaain.

He turned around.

"I CAN'T DO FUCKING ANYTHING, IDIOT! WHAT DO YOU EXPECT? DO YOU THINK I CAN JUST FUCKING CONVINCE HIM THAT I REALLY DO FUCKING LIKE HIM AND ASK HIM TO GIVE ME A DAMN CHANCE?"

The old lady looked back and forth between them curiously, a wrinkled little hand moving to push the thick plastic spectacles higher onto her nose as she glanced from Miaka, to Genrou, and then at Miaka again.

"OF COURSE YOU CAN!"

"YEA AND ELEPHANTS PLAY WITH FUCKING BARBIE DOLLS!"

"STOP BEING SUCH A TWIT! I'VE GOT A PLAN!"

"—SO JUST SHUT UP AND PRETEND THIS NEVER—YOU GOT A WHAT?!"

@@@

As Houjun walked to the bus stop, his sleek black sling-briefcase hanging from his fingers, he thought he heard the sounds of shouting in the distance. The neighborhood was normally quiet this time of the day, and he was rather surprised that what sounded like a brawl was going on.

If he had had the time, he would certainly have gone to take a look. As it was, he was already running late.

Houjun ignored the noise, stepping quickly over the curb and hurrying to the main road.

@@@

After she had dragged him back to the playground bench, (stopping momentarily by the stunned geriatric passerby and apologizing furiously), Miaka outlined her plan, barely pausing for breath. Mostly because she didn't want Genrou to disagree before he had heard the whole idea.

Perhaps it was fortunate that Genrou reacted the way he did. Rare, even. On most occasions, her twin brother was just angry, foul-mouthed and occasionally in shock. But this had to be a record.

Because Miaka had only seen Genrou flabbergasted twice, this being the second time. The first time was when, as kids, they had gone to the beach and nine-year-old Genrou had accidentally thrown his spade into a burly lifeguard's lap. And then unthinkingly stuck his hand down the man's pants to retrieve it before the outraged lifeguard made his displeasure, shock and embarrassment very vocally and physically known. Genrou had had that astonished, stunned and horrified amazement written on his face at that precise moment his hand made contact with the 'spade'. He also had a bruise under his left eye for a week after that.

"You…you want me to go on lying to him?"

She became defensive immediately. "That's not what I said! All I said was that you should really give the both of you a chance! If you think you really like him—and you said he was into guys too, right?—then at least give yourselves the opportunity to start really liking each other!"

"And that solves the damn problem by…?"

Miaka scrunched up her face in annoyance. "If he likes you back for who you are, then the fact that you're a guy or that you've been deceiving him all along shouldn't matter!"

He blinked. Once. Twice. Blinked again.

"…are you for real?"

She threw up her hands. "Don't be such a cynic! Just trust me for once and go with the flow! You're in articles around the country, do you know that? The mysterious, beautiful new face of Cover Girl fame. Hold out for this last one—what did you say it was again?—and then see if things can really work. Giving up here in the middle of nowhere is just really…silly!"

Genrou bit his lip.

"Okay," he said slowly, "Supposing you're right. Supposing this insane, crazy idea of so-called true love conquering all actually exists. Supposing I listen to you and just pull out all the stops for the National Photographic Modeling Competition…"

"Yes?" she prompted.

"Shouldn't I be going for lunch with Yui in half an hour?"

"Your lunch with—OH MY GOD, GENROU, GET UP, GET UP, WE NEED TO GET YOU READY!"