Authoress here.
Sorry it's been forever since the last update, but the muse had left me for some time. Now it's back, from outer space, it just walked in and had that same sad look upon its face….
AHEM!
Does anyone remember when I said Three-Way was only going to be fifteen chapters? Yeah, well, I lied. This story IS winding down; however, it's not over until it's over!
Now, onto the trials and tribulations of Three-Way!
Three Way Tie
Chapter Fifteen: Airborne Prophet
Gravitation
"What the hell?"
The house was empty; Yuki didn't particularly care that he was speaking aloud to no one. In fact, the mere happenstance of the house being empty was what made him swear. The empty house meant Aoyou wasn't home yet. And when Yuki had gone up to her room to investigate, he had sworn loudly when he saw the bed neatly turned down, the carpet vacuumed, the mirror dusted, and a small note resting on the pillow. Other than that, Aoyou's room had returned to its original state: an empty guest bedroom.
Now the note was crumpled in his right fist. The left fist was slammed into the wall of his office, where he had gone for refuge and a spot of gin or rum, whatever he had in his desk drawer. Then, in a sudden state of self-calm, Yuki un-crumpled the note and smoothed it out so he could examine it again.
Dearest Yuki and Shuichi,
I'm sorry. This isn't your faults, it's mine. I've got to go home and sort things out. Please don't be angry, I have to do this.
Aoyou
"Yuuuuuuuuuuki! Aoyouuuuuuuuuuuuuuu! I'm HOOOOOOMEEEE!" Shuichi's carefree tones rang through the house, making Yuki grit his teeth in annoyance. And also to not let out the howl of rage and frustration that was threatening his seemingly temporary state of previous calm and self-control.
Stalking down the hall, Yuki cut a foreboding figure. Shuichi, in his ignorant bliss, was singing Spicy Marmalade at the top of his lungs, voice sounding rock-star quality, mirroring his happy mood. Usually Yuki had slight consideration in damaging these moods of complete and idiotic joy, but the situation made his empathy, if not completely disappear altogether, diminish by a copious amount.
"Shuichi, stop that racket."
Shuichi shut up immediately, puppy-like in his obedience.
"Read this."
"Huh?" Automatically the teen reached out and took the note, and his large amethyst eyes scanned the paper, growing wider and wider in horror.
Grimly Yuki locked eyes with Shuichi, whose own were rapidly filling with tears.
"She's….?"
"Gone." Yuki said shortly, taking the note back. His self-calm was gone, and he ripped the note in two. That didn't sate his anger in the least, so he continued decimating the paper until it fell like confetti to the floor.
"But why?" The teen's voice was full of hurt and innocent disbelief.
"'She has to sort things out,'" Yuki quoted, feeling rather vindictive but also loath to show it. "'Don't be angry, she has to do this.'"
Shuichi wiped the stray droplets of moisture coming from his eyes with the back of one hand. Hearing Yuki parrot the letter back in a maddeningly steady voice wasn't helping the teen's shock.
"What did we do?"
"I don't know, do I look like a mind-reader!" Yuki snapped. To see Shuichi crying when Yuki felt like doing so as well made him feel helpless and furious. "Leave me alone, I have a deadline."
With that, Yuki turned on one heel and stalked back down the hall. Shuichi heard the office door slam with enough force to dislodge the hinges. Tears running even more freely down his face, Shuichi sank to the floor, sobbing among the shreds of Aoyou's parting shot.
Aoyou Tsumaru
Ten-thirty that evening, on an American Airline plane bound for North Dakota
I had been seated next to an older man, whose laugh lines carved deep into his face around his mouth and his eyes. His eyes were pale blue, and trustworthy, for as long as I saw them. It had been two hours since I had switched planes in Hawaii, and the older gentleman next to me had slept for an hour and at least fifty minutes.
Now I sat staring out the window, as I had been for most of the flight. The stars were so much brighter above the light pollution and the cloud cover, but they had failed to enrapture me for long. I was back in my mind's eye, replaying everything, every moment I had spent with the yin and yang of the male race; Shuichi and Yuki.
"Stare too long and your eyeballs will dry out." A raspy old voice next to me startled me from my stupor, and I jumped a little.
It was the older gentleman seated next to me, finally awake. I noted with relief the thin ribbon of drool that had been sliding over his lip for about an hour had been wiped away.
"Sorry if I frightened you," the old man continued. "But you seem like you could use a friendly ear."
I laughed a little politely. "Thank you, sir, but I'm not in the talking mood."
He regarded me curiously for a moment, and it took me awhile to figure out why. Then I realized I had answered in a mix of Japanese and English, referring to him as "ojii-san," politely calling him "elderly sir." Overall, I had stated, "Ojii-san, arigato, no wa sugu emotional speaking."
"I mean," I hastily corrected myself in understandable English, "I'm not really in the mood for talking."
"Might I just know one thing?"
Perv. The word was in my head before I could stop it. Partially to cover my own internal embarrassment, I nodded.
"Did you love him?"
"What?" I whipped around to stare at him. He had a slightly smug look on his face, and his blue eyes twinkled disarmingly.
"Well? Am I right?"
I got the feeling this guy wouldn't leave me alone unless I gave in. I sighed. "Yeah."
"What's his name?"
"Which one?" I said it before I realized how that sounded. The older gentleman's eyes widened slightly, and an amused look came onto his face.
"There are two?"
I don't know how he did it, but the old guy started me talking. It felt better once I had begun, and the words kept coming like water over a falls. The ache that had taken up most of my stomach (and my appetite, though that might have been just the airplane food) slowly dissipated as I poured my entire story, beginning to end, out to the complete stranger I had met two hours ago. Famous incognito gay couple, threesome, and all.
I can really be a careless idiot sometimes. This was certainly one of those times.
"So," The old man said thoughtfully, with the air of some great mind at hard work. "Guilt has overcome your love."
I nodded miserably. Reliving the past month and a half all inside of my head had been bad enough. Now I had to get analyzed and scolded for it.
But instead of a lecture on how the whole business was my fault, how I should have kept my head instead of getting caught up in the whirlwind of emotion; no, the man did something totally unexpected.
He turned to me, took my cheeks in his gnarled old hands and kissed my forehead. Then, looking straight into my eyes, he spoke to me very softly.
"We all make mistakes, Aoyou. But sometimes what seems like a mistake is only a test of strength, ingenuity, bravery and love.
"Perhaps what you need right now isn't in your parents' house. Perhaps what you don't need is Alex doting over you, I don't know. But, perhaps what you need isn't even somewhere in the United States. But maybe, just maybe, this trip back to a safe place will show you that you liked it better on the edge of danger."
"Or," he continued. "You'll feel like you'd rather live with what you know to be comfortable, safe, and warm. Following routines makes a lot of people feel safe, and maybe that's what you'll find you want."
He sat back in his seat, and closed his eyes. I sat there stupidly, mouth open and eyes blank in shock. After about a minute of not moving, he spoke again.
"Whatever you do, Aoyou, do not forget that you have been loved more deeply than is possible to top by two men that have made you very happy. Even if you choose the normal comforts of your old life, I have a feeling they will never forget you. And if you choose them, I would bet my life they'd choose you back."
I closed my mouth and my eyes, tears squeezing out from beneath my eyelids. The older man's words had brought them to the surface, and all of the decisions I had made from coming to Japan and leaving it stood out in sharp, semi-painful relief. Were they all mistakes?
Or were they tests?
Was I making the first good choice of my adventure?
Or the first big mistake?
I turned to say something to the older man, but a snore cut me off before I opened my mouth, and I grinned a little. While I had sat thinking, he had fallen asleep again.
Five-thirty a.m.
We got off of the airplane together, me carrying the older man's carry-on duffel as well as my own backpack. He was going one way while I was going another, so we parted at the terminal. He gave my forehead another kiss, collected his duffel from me and shuffled off towards the coffee stand. I waved, turned, and started towards the main airport.
It wasn't until I had called a taxi to take me home that I realized I had never gotten the old man's name.
"Damn." I swore softly, more of a sigh than an actual curse. I wanted to properly thank him; his advice had really gotten me thinking. But now I didn't really have a choice of where I was going next- the taxi was taking me to my parents five minutes down the freeway from the airport.
There, I would think.
End Chapter
Authoress being annoying at the end of the chapter.
I hope this was worth the wait!
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