Oy. It's me. I have finally decided to crawl out from under my rock and resume writing. No . . . actually I've just had excessive amounts of homework from my insane instructors at school, and as a result I've had no time to write. The first couple of paragraphs of thischapter were moldering away for the last couple weeks on my computer, and I decided that I'd actually finish it before another week of madness started up. Between that and work . . . Blargh. It's a wonder I get any sleep at all . . . wait a second . . . "sleep" . . . I think I've heard of that somewhere . . . Hm. Well, on with the story.
I don't own Wolf's Rain. Get it right, folks. Geez.
Tsume stood by the moving truck that bore his name, watching his crew lug boxes upon boxes of junk down the steps of the apartment before piling it all into the truck. When he caught a pair of them slacking off he prompted them back to work with a frigid glare, his hands on his hips, then settled back to his former position as his two cronies scuttled back up the stairs. He glanced at his lead man, a lanky teen with tousled red dreadlocks.
" Hey Tsume," the redhead said, coming up but maintaining a respectful distance between him and his taciturn boss, " I think the guys are getting tired, they've been hauling this stuff out all day . . . " He nervously scratched under his hat. "I mean, you call the breaks and all, but it's been really hot and we, um . . . well. . . " he trailed off, not wanting to sound like he was making excuses for his fellow workers. The one thing Tsume hated in this world more than weaklings were whiners.
As Tsume shifted in his spot, the redhead cringed inwardly, waiting with held breath to see what the tall man before him would do.
" Tell them to stop for now," Tsume said slowly, still watching the line of teenagers carrying boxes, some staggering under their loads. " Take a half hour off . . . drink some water, get some rest. We'll start again when it's cooler." As the redhead started off, Tsume stopped him. " Wait."
The redhead stopped and looked back curiously. " Huh?"
Tsume didn't look at him as he said, " Thanks . . . Gehl."
Gehl stared back at him, then smiled faintly and replied, " No problem, Tsume."
Later, Tsume pulled up in front of his apartment, letting the engine of the jet-black motorcycle rumble for a moment longer before shutting it down and pulling off his helmet. He swung his leg over the seat and looked up at the twilit sky. The moon wasn't yet visible.
As he strolled up the stairs, his helmet tucked under his arm, a familiar voice said, " Good thing you don't have to deal with helmet hair, huh, Tsume?"
Without looking around, Tsume continued into the building. " What are you doing here?"
Toboe popped his head around the corner of the stairs and scampered up to follow his friend. " Well, I called Hige and he said he was with Kiba at some restaurant, so I figured since they were out bonding, we could hang out together too."
Tsume turned his head slightly to eye Toboe as the pup skidded to a halt behind him, bouncing up and down on his toes with excitement.
" You do realize who you're talking to?"
" Well . . . you, Tsume. Who else?"
Tsume frowned, then frowned even more when he saw those puppy eyes staring up at him . . . God, not the puppy eyes, he thought.
Toboe blinked innocently and continued to stare up at him. Tsume let out an irritated "tch," and unlocked the door to his apartment. Toboe followed him in and went straight for the sofa, bouncing a little on his knees on the leather cushions and watching Tsume go through his mail.
Tsume glanced up at him after trying rather unsuccessfully to ignore his presence and asked pointedly, " Don't you have to go to school? It is a school day, isn't it?"
" Well, I'm home-schooled by my granny, and we finished early today so she could do some shopping." Toboe slumped on the couch and faced the TV, his back to Tsume. " I came by to see how you were doing, 'cause I thought you might get lonely by yourself. And . . . and I was hoping I could spend some time with you, Tsume," he added in a soft voice.
Tsume sighed inwardly.
Despite everything he had said to the runt, he hadn't meant it. At least, not fully. It was a damn shame the kid directed his loyalty and admiration towards a guy like him when there were better role models in the world.
And deep down, he had wanted to spend some time with him, especially without Porky around stuffing his face with mystery meat.
Still gazing mournfully at the floor and just beginning to think he'd have to write off the day as a total loss, Toboe heard the flop of the letters as Tsume let them drop to the counter, then turned and saw him gathering up his jacket.
" Here." Tsume tossed a black, scuffed helmet at him and he barely caught it in time before it hit his face.
He looked from the helmet to Tsume, his face blank. " Uh . . . ?
" Come on." Tsume went to the door and opened it, beckoning him outside with his head. " Let's go."
Toboe processed that for a moment, then bounded up from the couch, beaming.
When they got outside he looked around as Tsume got onto his bike and revved it up, breaking the silence of the evening. Over the sound of the engine roaring he yelled, " But where's your helmet, Tsume?"
Tsume slid on his sunglasses and just stared forward. " I don't need one."
Toboe gulped and looked down at the helmet. It wasn't safe to go around on a motorcycle in this city without a helmet. Even Tsume knew that. But if there was anyone who had a harder skull than him, they'd have to be made of concrete.
" Are you gonna stand there all day?" Tsume said, jolting him out of his thoughts, and scowling slightly in irritation. " C'mon, the motor's going, and gas isn't free, you know."
Toboe pulled the helmet on hastily and clambered up behind Tsume. The helmet was far too big for his head, but he pulled the chin strap as tight as it could go and shook his head a little to test it. That was much better.
He instinctively reached for Tsume when the bike started to move, but he stopped himself and grabbed onto the saddle instead. Tsume had always been leery of any sort of physical contact, so he figured holding onto him like a normal bike passenger would be a big no-no. He saw Tsume's shoulders slump in frustration, and the older wolf turned his head slightly to fix him with a deadpan stare.
" There's no backrest for a passenger on my bike, runt," he said coldly. " If you don't hold on, you're gonna end up as roadside pizza when I put on some speed. And I don't think you want that."
" Agh! No! No, I don't!" Toboe panicked and grabbed Tsume's waist, holding on for dear life, his eyes shut tight.
When nothing happened, he opened one eye and looked up. Tsume was looking back at him with his usual unamused look.
" Huh? . . . Tsume?"
Toboe suddenly realized he was clinging to him like a starfish to a clam. He let go, flushing with embarrassment, and looked away.
" Uh . . . s-sorry . . . " he started lamely, but Tsume cut him off by revving the engine again.
" Whatever. Just try not to hold on too tight."
Toboe hesitantly wrapped his arms around Tsume again and stared at the black leather in front of him. Maybe this hanging-out thing with Tsume wasn't such a good idea. He sure hadn't seemed too happy to see him, and even more not happy with having to take him for a ride on his beloved bike.
As they pulled out into traffic Toboe watched the sidewalk and buildings flash by. He wondered where they were going. Tsume didn't look as though he felt like talking.
Meanwhile, Tsume was glaring at the stores and buildings they passed and wondering to himself, What the hell does a pup like to do?
Beat older guys at DDR? Hm . . . Besides that.
He'd have to think of something they could both do without him having to jeopardize his self-esteem or his pride. There was no way in hell he was getting back on a DDR platform. No way.
But maybe . . .
Toboe looked on either side of him in wonder almost twenty minutes later as the motorcycle rumbled to a halt in front of an enormous courtyard space, beyond which was a huge, majestic-looking building of gray stone, the stone blocks decorated with impressions and murals of fish and other sealife. Blue and turquoise flags waved languidly in the soft, cool breeze of late evening, while a few people strolled along the court area among the jetting fountains and evergreen hedges.
Tsume parked, and Toboe felt the bike lean a little to the right a bit as he got off. Slightly disoriented by the weight of the helmet, Toboe staggered off and wobbled around a bit, pulling at the chin strap. Tsume watched as he paused, then resumed tugging at the strap almost frantically.
From within the helmet came Toboe's muffled, panicking voice, " Tsume! Help! The helmet – I think it's stuck! I can't get it off!" Followed by more frantic – yet completely useless – pulls on the strap.
Tsume let out an almost inaudible "hmph" of exasperation. Pups were such a pain. When he got back home, he'd have to remember to write that on his list of things he never planned to have.
" Calm down," he told Toboe. He couldn't see his face, but he could tell the poor kid was about ready to cry. " The helmet's not stuck, you're just pulling on it all wrong. Here, lemme see it – " He tilted Toboe's head back slightly so he could see the strap in question, right under his chin, and unsnapped it expertly. Toboe lifted the helmet off and took in a deep breath of relief.
" Thanks, Tsume," he said gratefully. " I didn't think I'd ever get out of there."
Tsume tossed the helmet onto the seat of the motorcycle and began walking off, hands in his pockets. " It was just a helmet. You shouldn't get scared so easily."
Toboe followed him, walking quickly to keep up. " Are we at the museum?" he asked, just to change the subject and get it off him. " I didn't know there was one around here."
" Read the sign, runt. What does it say?"
Toboe looked up at a sign that towered over the huge entrance to the gray building.
" Oh . . . The Hayes-Winberg Aquarium," he read, then trotted after Tsume as the elder walked up to a booth window where a young woman sat behind the glass.
" Hello," she greeted him. " Welcome to the Hayes-Winberg Aquarium. How many?"
" One adult, one runt – uh, kid. One kid."
Toboe dug through his pockets wildly at this.
" Oh no, I didn't bring my money with me!"
" Don't worry about it."
He looked up at Tsume, who was pulling out his wallet unconcernedly and paying the lady, who handed him two tickets and told him to enjoy his visit, and that his little brother was cute, too.
" Cute?" Tsume raised an eyebrow at that last comment, but declined to answer and instead headed for the turnstile, where other museum-goers were clicking and rattling through the gates. He slid through with no problem, but the pup was another matter altogether . . .
" Tsu-meeee!" came the familiar wail, and he turned around to see that Toboe was caught helplessly in one of men's most inhumane of traps . . . the turnstile.
Toboe struggled futilely while a group of tourists began to pool behind him, muttering and complaining. Tsume walked back and grabbed his wrist, then yanked him out easily. Toboe practically flew out on Tsume's strength alone, and collided face-first into his friend's stomach.
" Ow . . . " Toboe rubbed his head, then looked up. Tsume was doing an extraordinary job of concealing the fact that having a pup's head ram into your gut was not exactly one of the most pleasant experiences he'd come across to date. He simply looked away and said, " Let's go see some fish."
Meanwhile . . . back at the Brazilian Barbecue . . .
" Please, please, please, can't I get some beer? Please? Blue, I'm shriveling to nothingness here, and all you can do is sit there and smirk while I suffer? Why must the world be so cruel and harsh? WHY?"
" Hige . . . shut up. Please."
" This beer is pretty good."
" . . . shut up, Kiba . . . "
" AH-CHOO!"
" Why didn't you ever tell me you're allergic to wine, Hubb? Honestly . . . "
And there you have it, ladies and gents. Not one of the better (or funnier) chapters to date, but hey, I try. I'm gonna see how many of the characters I can bring back, however lamely they may appear. Um . . . that little dialogue between Gehl and Tsume was supposed to be touching, but I think all it touched was new levels in lameness. Heh heh. Oops.And doesn't it just give you the warm fuzzies to see Tsume and Toboe getting along so nicely? I think Toboe would be just the one to get stuck inside a biker helmet . . . And just for the record, Nicola, I will not be putting in any "Tsume and Toboe lovin'" in here, just because. . . Well, I don't really need a reason.
To all the reviewer folks out there, I do thank you all for your reviews and whatnot. Thanks so much for all the good reviews. You guys make it happen.
Huzzah for the reviewers.
Huzzah for me. Huzzah for leather pants and ninjas.
Okay . . .this is the point where you kinda start scooting away from the computer, because I am slowly becoming insane. It is just too fsckin' late at night, and I have work tomorrow. And when I get back from work, you people better have said something, whether good or bad, about this story.
I'm just kidding, guys. Please don't kill me; that's Kiba's job. Review in your own good time, especially you, Swingblues. You are teh r0x0rz.
Woot! Lookit this long-ass rant! Maybe you could throw in some reviews of the rant as well! Ahh . . . well . . . until next time, my dear hobbitses. I just can't bring myself to type anything more.
Hah . . .not. Lat3rz!