All previous disclaimers apply. Don't own anything of Dashboard Confessional.
Missed an A/N last chapter (though I'm not sure it really matters) but thank you for the positive response so far. So here's where I stop being so vague about things. Well, less vague.
Hoped to answer some questions so . . . the woman on the phone wasn't his long lost sister, and it's not Koharu (though I set her up with Kuranosuke on another unpublished occasion. Pure evil) and yes, I enjoy torturing you.
Note: Kirisame is a word that I think means foggy/misty rain. Rain is my best friend in this story.
Will not delay, so everyone, remember to thank Katrina5 inspiring this crack - umm, chapter and story. Feedback appreciated.
-
-
Sango sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, pouring over employee memos and sticky notes. A large chart lay in the center of it all, where she was pencilling in names for the schedule of 'big business evaluations' next week.
"Unbelievable," she murmured, changing Mr. Kiyama's evaluation period from ten AM to two PM in accordance with his death threat - no, memo.
Uneven footsteps sounded down the stairs but Sango didn't look up. They continued into the living room where the young woman struggled with the load of paperwork.
The sound of someone slumping against the wall in a slight thud caused her to look up from the schedule.
"Kohaku?" she asked in worry. "What's wrong?"
"It's alright ane-ue, I don't want to bother you. It's just that," he took a steadying breath, "I think we're out of aspirin."
She stood up and rushed over to him, the meeting schedule forgotten, and guided him towards the couch. Placing a hand under his bangs, she winced. The warmth beneath her hand was surely greater than normal.
Bustling about the kitchen, she quickly held a small towel underneath a stream of cold water and wrung it out before she laid it against his forehead. Looking around frantically, she grabbed a blanket out of the linen closet and threw it over his body, which was now shivering.
"Ane-ue!" he croaked. "Go do your work. You just got this job!"
"That's not important right now," she dissuaded, now throwing on her raincoat. "Father pulled some strings for me anyway."
The rain pounding on the roof did nothing to deter her. "I'm going to run out and get you some medicine, okay?"
"In this rain? No!" he tried to protest. "And you lent the car to Kagome-san tonight!"
"I'll take the metro," she assured him. "It will be a little longer because of that...but hold on, okay? For me?" she added in an encouraging voice. 'After all, isn't it my fault we don't have any medicine for you?'
He sighed and shook his head, coughing a little. "Don't take too long," he tried to lecture her. "I'll get worried."
She rubbed his shoulders affectionately and jogged down the foyer, pulling on her shoes.
-
'Why, why, why did I have to lend Kagome-chan the car tonight?' Sango complained, her hair now hanging in wet rivulets across her face. The rain was heavier than she had anticipated, almost stinging if she lifted her face directly to the sky. Her coat wasn't doing that much of a good job either; the zipper was stuck and it wouldn't close, exposing her entire front to the torrential outpour.
Her socks and pants absorbed the water like a sponge as she pounded through the puddles, intent on getting to the small drugstore outside the large mall. It was just nearing closing hours, and Sango only cared about getting through those doors before they closed.
She breathed a sigh of relief as she trailed wet footprints into the store, not bothering to wipe off her shoes, which wouldn't have helped matters anyway. Instead, she squeaked down the aisles, looking for the fever medicine section, which, in a calmer situation, would probably have been ten times easier to locate.
"Relief of fevers!" she said aloud in triumph, not that there were many people in the store to hear her. Shoving the bottle in her pocket, she looked around more, trying to see if there would be anything else she'd need.
Thermometer,' she decided, plucking it off of the metal piece from which it hung. 'And sinus and cough tablets, just in case. This is so hard without mother!
Cradling the medications in her arms, her shoes squeaked loudly as she ran towards the cash register, slightly startling the half-asleep employee waiting there.
Sango felt like rapping her fists along the counter to get the teenager there to quicken the pace in scanning, but settled for twitching in impatience instead.
"Here you go," the cashier yawned. "Enjoy."
With a polite nod Sango hurried towards the door, unaware of anything else other than the fact that about forty minutes had passed and Kohaku, who was home all alone, was running a high fever.
The familiar pounding of the rain had already begun to grace her head when a loud voice stopped her.
"Excuse me miss."
Fisting her hands, she whirled around, spraying the offender with a string of water droplets. "Yes?" she said in as courteous a voice as she could muster.
"Step back into the store for a minute, please."
"I'm sorry, but I have a really important matter to attend to," she quipped. "What is the problem?"
"Could you empty your pockets for me please?"
She scrutinized him more closely. He was tall, wearing a white dress shirt and black pants, a radio connected to his belt, and the outline of a box visible in his chest pocket. If she wasn't so frustrated, she probably would have noticed the slight look of amusement on his face.
Quickly, she ran her hands up and down her sides, the bag of medicine bouncing along the joint of her elbow. "I don't have anything! Please, I didn't steal anything!" She put her hands over her face, the roots of a headache already forming. Seriously contemplating just running away from him, she took a step back and he spoke again.
"I'm going to have to ask you to stand with your hands against the wall."
A spray of water moistened the hem of his pants as she stomped her foot angrily, walking over to the wall and slamming her palms against it. Her shoulders moved up and down as she breathed heavily, trying to calm herself. Kohaku could be -
She gasped, momentarily forgetting where she was. His hands, they were on her shoulders, holding them in a soft grip. From there, they trailed down her arms, squeezing every now and then. They returned to her shoulder blades, resting for a moment, before continuing down her sides and across her back.
Her jacket and her clothes were soaked, and she was grateful that her front faced away from him, now that she realized she was in a white shirt.
Her breaths unconsciously steadied themselves, trying to keep her body from shuddering too much under his touch; one that seemed to warm every area of moist skin through her wet clothing.
"Stop it," she said in a small voice. "That isn't allowed."
"What isn't allowed?" the guard asked nonchalantly. "I have reason to suspect you, and so I'm searching you."
'You can't touch me...like that,' her mind was screaming at him as his hands sailed dangerously low, squeezing her hips. Then . . . her bottom . . .
She let out a noise of discontent, twisting around and slapping him across the face. "That was not a search, you ... you perverted freak!"
His head was down, and he was holding his cheek where she'd hit him. As for her, her breathing was loud and angry again, her hand slightly stinging.
The falling of the rain seemed to grow louder as he lifted his face, surprising her with the determined smile on his mouth.
"Please forgive me," he said casually. "It's not often someone as beautiful as you shoplifts."
Taking advantage of her moment of stunned silence, he suddenly lunged forward, reaching into the pocket of her pants, and she flinched away instantly, tripping backwards into a puddle.
"You forgot to pay for this," he said with a shrug, handing her the first bottle of syrup she had picked up. "Seems a careless employee forgot to tag it."
Her hands were fists at her sides again, shaking, her body, shivering, from frustration and from cold, as she sat in the shallow water.
She stared at where he had dropped it, in her soaked lap, unable to think straight. Tears began to fall from her face to the wet cobblestone, indistinguishable from the rain water.
And she was crying, silently and angrily, angry that her father was never at home, angry that she had to take on so much responsibility so fast, angry that she didn't know what to do because Kohaku was sick, and her mother was always the one who knew what to do, and angry that she was wet, dirty, and sitting in a puddle crying pathetically because she had made a fool of herself in front of a perverted security guard who was probably staring at her bra through her white shirt.
"Come on," she heard his voice say gently, different than before. "You'll get sick."
"Don't touch me," she sniffed. "I don't care."
He placed his hands under her arms and lifted her to her feet, and she let him. He probably wanted her to come inside so he could give her the fine, and turn her in. It was only fair.
"Hey Miroku," an elderly man wearing a navy jump suit called from where he was mopping the floor, more specifically, her trail around the store. "What's going on?"
"Not much," the security guard called back, and she looked up at him, confused. "Just a customer who's a little lost."
The janitor chuckled as he cleaned the floor, still mottled with dirty water. "I'm sure. And isn't this Inuyasha's shift? The young man who once got suspended for manhandling the shoplifters?"
"Said he had a hot date tonight. Naturally, since that never happens, I covered for him."
"Miroku," Sango said under her breath, unsure of why.
"That's my name," he smiled, turning back to her as he draped something warm around her shoulders. "You can borrow my jacket," he offered, "Yours seems to be, ah - defective."
"I . . . I'm sorry," she mumbled with her head down.
"For what? Slapping me? Miss, you had every right to."
"No, not for that. That was indeed perverted," she said with a small glare. "But for not listening . . . I'll pay the fine, whatever it is."
"I'm not going to report you."
"Why?"
"It was medicinal syrup. Tell me why you braved the horrible Tokyo rainy season, on foot, to get here to buy medicine."
"My brother...he's sick with a fever and I left him alone to buy medication . . . We didn't have any and I'm supposed to take care of him and - "
She stopped. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling."
"Are you going to walk back?" he asked sharply.
"I'm going to take the subway or the monorail."
"I'm sorry, I won't allow it."
He reached for the radio at his waist and spoke into it. "Can I have a cab sent to the East Entrance please? Thanks."
"A taxi? But I don't have enough money left."
"I would drive you, but I don't want you to fear for your well-being. You've got wits, looks, passion and damn, you've got strength, " he paused with a flourish. "But are you brave enough to leave with me tonight?"
The headlights of the taxi shined through the doors, momentarily blinding them as it pulled up beside the curb. "Come on, let's go," he said to her, guiding her outside and lifting his jacket above her head.
She was silent as he placed a few notes between her cold hands, and instructed the driver to take her wherever she asked.
As the car turned out of the parking lot, she found herself looking through the back window of the taxi and watching him as he stood on the curb, briefly illuminated by a flash of lighting as the rain pelted down on his shoulders.
-
Any Given Someday
Chapter Three:
Here Is Gone
-
Paranoia. It was like everyone was out to get her. Everyone.
She had slept in that morning despite having had ample rest since the trying events of the date Friday night, and had now set about bustling around her room trying to zip up the back of her grey skirt. After winning that battle, she tumbled down the stairs, matching blazer over her shoulder, yelling for Kohaku to get ready.
Amusedly, he strolled into the hallway, holding his cup of tea and watching as his sister gathered up her paperwork and tried to simultaneously stuff it in her bag as fast as possible, yet avoid creasing any of them.
"What are you laughing at?" she demanded, closing her bag and snapping it up quickly.
"Nothing much." He stifled a yawn, picking up his own bag. "I'll wait in the car," he said with a shrug, putting on his shoes and walking out the door.
With a huff, she slipped on her pumps and plucked her keys off of the hook on the wall. She then snatched up her black umbrella from where it leaned over an old pair of Kohaku's sneakers on the shoe rack, before locking the door behind her and driving Kohaku to school.
"And it looks like there will be rain showers sometime this late afternoon. The rainy season is well on its way."
"Did you bring your umbrella Kohaku?" Sango inquired, guiding the car along the road.
"It didn't say it'd rain that hard, did it? If anything, I can ask someone for a ride. If worse comes to worst, I'll take the metro, which isn't that bad," he said whilst rapping on the dashboard to an impromptu tune.
"Here." She reached into the back seat and felt around for the firm nylon of her umbrella, thrusting it at him. "Take mine."
"And you?" he asked.
"I have a car silly," she informed him. "See you later."
He waved quickly before turning and walking towards the gates, as Sango made a wide turn onto the highway to head downtown.
A gracious, yet mind-numbing hour in traffic later, she waltzed through the main doors, greeted with a light gust of climate control air conditioning, opting to throw on her blazer once she was settled behind the front desk.
"Good morning Omura-san!" she greeted the heavyset guard, pausing at his post at a small desk just to the right of the entrance doors.
"How are you today Kirisame-san?" he asked, taking a sip from his morning coffee.
"Oh, the same," she said with a wave of her hand. "Another Monday for me."
"Not me," he said with a toothy grin. "Himiko is due any time this week, I'm going absolutely crazy waiting!" He patted his cellular phone with a large hand. "As soon as this goes off, I'm out of here and straight to the maternity ward."
She clasped her hands in enthusiasm. "Congratulations! I'm sure you'll be a great father. Do tell me if it's a girl or a boy?"
He saluted, tapping the brim of his cap twice.
Sango strode behind the wide cherry wood desk and sat down heavily in her swivelling chair, unloading her stack of papers and keying in her password on the awaiting computer sitting to her left.
As she went over the list of scheduled visitors for the day and prepared their access control passes, she heard the familiar click of heels on marble as a young, dark-haired woman walked cheerfully toward her, just having received the news from the father-to-be patrolling the door.
"Sango-chan, they mixed-up the mail again," she said brightly, dropping another stack of parcels and envelopes onto the desk.
"Why thank you Kagome-chan," Sango said with feigned enthusiasm, beginning to gather them into a neat pile.
"You're welcome!" the other female beamed as she prepared to make her way towards the exit that connected Sango's building with the one beside it. "It was my turn anyway. They always mess up the post."
Shaking her head, the receptionist had just started to sift through the sudden influx of mail that had found its way onto her desk when the phone rang.
"Good morning, you have reached the offices of Pacific Overseas Limited, Sango speaking. How may I help you?" she chirped, in what she had dubbed her cheery 'my-life-depends-on-helping-you' voice.
"Someone sounds incredibly happy," her father's voice echoed out of the receiver in an amused tone.
"Father?" Sango exclaimed in disbelief, looking around to see if anyone had heard her outburst.
Fortunately, she was a few minutes early, and only a few employees were approaching to have their ID's checked. She craned her neck to look at Mr. Omura, whose duties included ID clearance, but the line of arriving workers streamed by him as he chattered on his cell phone excitedly.
"I just wanted to check how my daughter is doing this fine day. Did you have a good weekend?"
"Father," she said in an impatient voice, ushering past workers as they waved their identification tags in front of her face. "Can't this conversation wait until I, well, get home maybe?"
He remained unfazed. "Have any dates lately?"
She let out a small indignant cry. "Father. I don't know what it is with you! For your information, as if you didn't already know, I went on a date with Takeda, ate for free, and went home. The end."
"You're lying. What really happened?"
"Nothing. Happened."
"Also, does Kohaku always accompany you on dates?"
She could practically imagine, in frightening accuracy, the look on his face as he asked her that.
"For someone who claims to be a busy businessman, you sure invest a lot of time in these matters. How about you put some of that extra energy into helping me pay for an air purifier? Everyone here at work is positively raving about them!"
"Sango," he said, somewhat sternly. "Please not the sarcasm. They're not that great."
"I'm sorry father, I'm getting another call. You can either wait until my lunch break, let me put you on hold and listen to some horrible music, or call back when I get home to harass me again."
"Well, I have a lunch meeting myself but . . . never mind. Love you."
"Love you too."
"Wait, one more thing!"
"Yes?"
"I will not have my son grow up to work in the fast food industry, no matter how promising he deems it."
"Bye father," she sighed in amusement, however, she was still annoyed.
With a victorious punch of a button, she disconnected the call, transferring lines and reciting her most oft-repeated line of the day.
--
Sango was walking through the doors returning from her luncheon with Kagome when she noticed the security desk was empty.
"Oh! Do you think Mr. Omura's wife has gone into labour?" Kagome exclaimed excitedly.
"He's been at this post as long as I can remember, so I see no reason why he would leave it now unless his wife was giving birth," she replied with a small smile. "And this morning he was too distracted to do the ID clearances."
"I'm sure you handled it fine," Kagome praised. "I hope everything works out for him," she added as she turned to leave through the side doors. "See you later!"
Sango waved, plopping herself down into her own seat. There was a nice, hefty stack of papers sitting on top of the desk in front of her that she was quite sure hadn't been there before.
A small square sticky note sitting on the topmost sheet read, "Miss Kirisame, please send out these faxes before you leave today."
"Before I leave today?" Sango asked incredulously. "Then I should have started this morning!"
Grumbling to herself, she started dividing the stacks into smaller, more manageable piles, looking so concentrated in her task that she startled an employee strolling past her desk to the elevator.
"I have to clear your ID," she said, not looking up from her work.
"I - I had it cleared at the door," the young woman, whom Sango assumed was a secretary for one of the other floors, explained.
"Oh really?" Sango asked, pushing the stack she was working on to the side and swivelling her chair around. "By who?"
"There's a guard sitting there."
Curious, she looked towards the entrance where there indeed was a figure leaning over the desk, taller and definitely lean enough that it was safe to say that it wasn't Mr. Omura.
"I see..." she said slowly. "Is he a replacement?"
"Yeah," the woman shrugged, swinging her briefcase. "I guess. So am I cleared?"
"Oh yes, yes, go ahead, " Sango rattled off, gesturing towards the elevator.
Taking a deep breath and steadying her shoulders, she turned back to her computer and stack of faxes, only to see another person standing in front of her desk expectantly.
Sensing from the power suit, she guessed that this was probably some big executive coming to do business with the company, and in accordance with what her father had advised her, plastered a pleasant smile on her face and greeted him politely.
"Hello, what can I do for you today?"
"I'm here for a board meeting," the man said, sliding a note and identification across to her.
Bringing up her schedule on the screen, she paged the office upstairs and announced his arrival.
"They're expecting you, I will issue you a visitor pass and an access control card and - "
Something caught her sight just again, the replacement standing at the security desk.
The man snapped his fingers. "Excuse me?"
Sango shook her head, the bun at the base of her neck wiggling with her. "I'm sorry, here you go," she said, tearing her eyes away from the doorway and handing the visitor the card and pass. "Have a good day!" she tried to redeem herself.
He pinned the visitor pass to his belt. "Sure...you too," he said, giving her an odd look and entering the elevator.
'It couldn't be.'
Her body suddenly refused to move and she stood there stiffly, staring across the shining marble floor to the desk where he stood. Sometime after that, her mind processed that he was looking back at her. The main entrance hall suddenly seemed extremely quiet.
'The faxes, the faxes,' she remembered, falling into her seat and grabbing one of the stacks of paper, rolling her chair over to the fax machine.
She had sent about two when she found herself peeking over the edge of the desk again. 'I'm just making sure it's him', she told herself. Luckily, he was now idly leafing through a magazine to pass the time.
The phone rang again, and her spying session was interrupted. Trying her best to calm down, she switched to her cheery voice as she answered the phone.
--
"Bye Kirisame-san!" another employee waved as she too, left work. Sango nodded and smiled, before turning back to the fax machine with a frown as she continued to robotically punch the numbers and feed the paper into the machine.
The faxes were the only thing left. Business hours were over, and all the phone calls were now being handled by the overnight answering machine. The only thing that kept her from picking up her bag and leaving was the stack of faxes that had to be sent "before she left today."
Blinking some life back into her eyes, she sneaked a glance towards the main entrance. Sure enough, he was still sitting there, his feet propped on the desk. Was the front desk far enough away from him that he couldn't recognize her?
Wait, that wouldn't work, she realized. He knew she worked here.
Feeding another fax into the slot, she punched in another number. The fax machine gave off a low hum and blinked as the paper was pulled into it.
Maybe if she worked long enough he would leave. After all, wasn't this overtime for him? Unless he was going to be working all night . . . but that didn't make sense, they had never needed an overnight guard at the door before. She knew there was one that came in to sit in the control room and watch the cameras, but that was all.
As she reached for the next fax she realized the pile was growing thinner. Soon she would have to pack up and leave . . . through the main doors.
Even though she really didn't want to have to endure an extremely awkward moment, she knew if she wanted to get home, there would have to be a small sacrifice made.
The last fax rolled out of the machine and she powered it down, along with the computer and the photocopier.
She cursed the heels of her shoes and the marble floor as each step she took echoed across the entire hall. He was sitting there, leaning back in the chair, and his eyes were closed. Some security guard.
His eyes were closed? Wait, that was good news! She'd be able to leave, and maybe she'd let the door creak just loudly enough so that if he was supposed to leave as well, he'd be able to on time.
With a tiny bit of increased confidence, she clicked steadily towards the exit, the steady patter of the rain showers promised by the radio this morning becoming louder as she approached.
She was almost there, a few more steps and she could push that door, let it swing open and she could be on her way -
"Excuse me miss."
His eyes weren't closed any more. He was standing, she knew it, but she could tell even if she wasn't facing him. Her back was practically on fire from what she knew was his penetrating stare.
"Yes?" she inquired, meaning for her voice to sound rude and cold, instead sounding like she was out of breath.
"Are you sure you want to go out there?" His voice was quiet and low, but with no one around but them, it seemed so loud.
"Why wouldn't I?" she said in a strained voice, her hands fisting. "I'm going to my car."
"Well, if -"
"Why are you even here anyway?" she snapped. "You know I work here!"
He was calm at her outburst. "I was called in. The normal guard had an emergency, I believe. You know me, I always try to help out."
"I see." She muffled a sniff with her hand.
"Besides . . . how could I pass up a chance to see you again?"
There was a low echo in the entrance hall as her bag slipped from her fingers and fell to the wet marble.
"Stop," she said in a low voice that came from deep within her throat. "Stop."
"Don't you remember me?" She couldn't decipher if he sounded hurt or not. Maybe he was just toying with her. That's what she was right? Something fun for him to toy with.
Miroku. How can I forget?
"Sango." He was coming closer now. "At least . . . take this."
She turned around slowly, looking down, away from his face, because she refused to meet his eyes, and to his outstretched hand.
He was offering her an umbrella.
Hesitantly her hand reached towards his, her fingertips brushing his wrist as they curled around the nylon.
Abruptly, she drove her hand down, startling him. The umbrella fell from his grasp, hitting the ground with a clatter.
She kept her head down, the shadows of her bangs obscuring her face. "I do know you," she whispered harshly, letting go of his wrist as she turned. She hurriedly picked up her bag as she pushed through the revolving door, raindrops splattering her clothing, her hair unravelling from its neat knot, and the water splashing about her heels as she struggled not to fall.
-
And I know that you hope for
Longer good-byes
Embracing for forever
And falling in your eyes
In your eyes
In my eyes