Title: Lahat Ng Matatamis Na Bagay
Author: Crystalline
Replies to the Reviews: (1) It's a bit obvious that I was in a hurry in making the first chapter. I was already getting tired of thinking of a way to end it that's why I used whatever came into mind. (2) Thanks for the reviews people. I appreciate it. Umm… I realized that the first chapter is quite long. I've done some comparison and 6,000+ words seem to be too much for just one chapter. Please bear with me. I have read a lot of great fan fics and I actually idolize the people who wrote them. They love writing long chapters—and I mean long. And having been exposed to that sort of writing style—detailed and lengthy—I found it hard to shorten mine. I never really thought about it until the three reviews came up; two of which said that it is long. I do not know how some authors can really get away with writing really long ones while I can't. Maybe I just lack enthusiasm and it reflects in my work—or maybe I'm just not a good fic writer. I'm going to try harder though I'm not going to guarantee that this chapter will be shorter. It's been a long time since I last updated and I'm trying to make it up to the people who read my work. I hope this chapter will suffice your… cravings? Hehe. (3) I really appreciate the tip given to me by one of the people who reviewed my work but I'd rather that people read my fanfic not because it is short. Intimidating, yes but that's the way I write. Anyways, here's chapter two.
On Reading: (1) I found a way to use the name, Aya, in this fic. However, it won't be "Aya" per se. I wanted Youji to have a special nickname for Ran and so I thought of using A-yan. For additional notes on "A-yan", please read the notes at the bottom. (2) I also apologize for the mix up that happened in the first chapter. The original fic was made in Microsoft Word© yet some of the styles that I applied did not come out well. In the first part where Ran and Youji were in the library, there was a part where I would shift from excerpts from the book, dialogue, then to thoughts. I "block quoted" the book excerpts and used Arial but when I uploaded it, the margins were reset and the font was turned into Times New Roman. (3) Another thing, you might have noticed that the shifts are a bit sudden because there are paragraphs that start referring to a different time and place already—the thing is, I did put a line to separate them but, the lines disappeared. (4) Another thing that greatly bothered me was the use of the double "/" (slash) to denote thoughts—again, Fanfiction deleted the double slashes and the thoughts ended up looking like spoken lines/dialogues since they were also Italicized and bold. I decided to change the styles and here they are…
(Italicized) Thoughts/Internal Monologue/Reading
"Italicized" Dialogue
oOooOooOo Start/End of Scene
(5) Lastly, I want to remind everyone that I revised CHAPTER 1 (Maskubado). I applied the new "reading guides" (see above) so that you'll be able to understand it more. Plus, I also edited it. So you will notice a number of differences with regards to grammar, dialogue, and some ideas. To compare, go to for the older version of Chapter 1. Thanks.
Lahat Ng Matatamis Na Bagay
Kabanata II
Sinukmani
(… Winning in warfare is placed in the hands of a general and not the monarch. A good example would be that of a chess player and his chess pieces. The chess player must think hard and in advance, plan very well, outwit his opponent, and adjust his tactics depending on the flow of the game for this is where the survival of the king and the queen solely lies. I believe that it is essential to teach, train, and educate the current and future leaders and the book (even if some might think it passé) is a must read for managers, department heads, generals, and even the team captain of a basketball team…9IGHJKBre56$Ujasldjo97&bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb…)
Ran has had enough. It was 2 o'clock in the morning and he still had a page and a half to go before he can finally sleep. The book took longer to finish than expected and making the paper was far harder than he ever thought possible. It should've been easy but lack of rest made it impossible for coherent thoughts to form. Ran never really found it hard to write a paper of whatever nature however, when pushed to make one without his interest to fuel it, well—let's just say using song lyrics for the paper would probably make more sense. Ran lifted his hands from the keyboard and ran it through his hair, lightly massaging the scalp. He paused and closed his eyes, his grip tightened slightly. (You need to finish the paper. Focus. Focus. Focus.)He opened his eyes and let go of his hair, relieving the tension on his scalp. He leaned a little further back on his chair and stared at his laptop. He could hear the faint buzzing of the computer as he sat there, soaking up the radiation from the screen.
He needed to freshen up, he thought, so he headed for the bathroom. He splashed some water on his face to wash away the weariness. He held onto the sides of the ceramic sink to support his tired body. He let most of the water drip down before lifting his head up. The image he saw on the mirror was marred with hard-water stains that made the perfect face twist in disgust. He's a neat freak but since he started majoring, Ran has neglected his condominium. Come to think of it, he rather missed the sterile smell of his favorite cleanser—Ran's obsessive-compulsiveness turned his bathroom and kitchen into rooms fit for a hospital. The hard-water stains are out of place in a bathroom that's not clinically spic and span at the moment but abnormally clean nonetheless. He made a mental note to clean up over the weekend. He dried his face with one of the towels from the rack, replaced it, and exited.
Ran was about to go back to work when he realized he needed something to eat. He went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator only to find a rotting, half-eaten sandwich, molding cheese, and a box of milk way past its due date. He closed the fridge and started opening the cupboards. (Plates. Glasses. Catnip. Plates. Gla—Catnip? How did 'that' get there?) Ran made another mental note just to make sure he does not get unnecessary things the next time he buys grocery. (Empty cereal box. Empty cereal box. Catnip. Again. How the hell do these things get past me? What's in door number 3? More catnip?) Fortunately for Ran, he found a box of tea bags and a couple of instant coffee packets.
He took two mugs, and placed a tea bag in one and emptied a coffee packet in the other. He walked over to the water dispenser and added hot water to both. He swirled the mug that contained the coffee. He was too lazy to get a teaspoon to stir it with. He sniffed at the black liquid and made a face. He never liked coffee much and he did not know how to brew a good cup either. He opted to use the instant variety in times that call for an immediate boost of energy. He placed the steaming mugs on the table and sat down. He entwined his fingers together and stretched out, easing the tensed muscles. The room was then filled with the smell of robust, caffeine-based drinks and the sound of the keyboard clicking under slender fingers.
Thirty minutes passed and Ran was finally summarizing:
(Leaders who go to "WAR" with not so much as an impressive suite or an arsenal of jets and missiles are phallic idiots who move because their penis tells them to do so. They say it's all about power. I beg to differ. It's about wit, proper use of resources, and putting their money where their mouth is. Someone ought to write a book entitled, "The Art of War for Dummies… like George Bush". Everything starts and ends with good leadership. Obviously, at this time and age, people aren't aware of that.)
"I'm done. I'm through. I – have – given - up!" Ran exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air as if surrendering to an unseen foe. He heaved a sigh as he rotated his head to stretch his neck muscles. The digital clock on his laptop showed that it was 3:23 in the morning already. A sharp intake of breath was a sign of his faltering stamina. He was not happy with the paper—it was far from what Ran would call "exceptional" or "satisfactory" but it was all he can do. He thought, for a second or two, to change the ending; he found the metaphor and symbolism kitsch… no, make it "forced" and "rough". His anal fixation is making him do the impossible but in the end, Ran's physiological needs won him over. He saved his work, printed it out, and turned his laptop off. Ran collapsed on his bed, his body half off and half on but he did not care. He needed sleep and his body begged for it. Obviously, the coffee and the tea did not do much to boost his energy. The very moment his body touched the soft, cotton sheets, Ran's eyes closed and he entered the world of the unconscious.
oOooOooOo
"Why didn't you remind me of the Philosophy exam?" asked Youji Kuhdo, non-too-pleased at the brown haired man beside him. He had just finished answering the seventy-five-item test and met up with his bestfriend at the lockers.
"Don't take it out on me. I thought you knew," Ken retorted as he placed a couple of books inside his locker. He sighed as he took out three more books to replace the ones he had. It was a Wednesday. He and Youji have four classes to attend to. Oh, how he hated Wednesdays. And Mondays. And Fridays. They have a lot of thick textbooks to bring for each of their classes; which, by the way, are held at different rooms in different buildings. That being the case, they needed to get everything for their next classes to avoid coming back and forth from one building to another. MWF schedules are really hectic and the amount of things Ken stuffed into his bag was a testament to that. Today was a particularly bitchy day for him too because he did not do so well on the test either. What with Feuerbach, Nietzsche, Plato, and all the other Philosophers dancing around inside his head. "Besides, I'm not your secretary Youji," he added as he slammed the door shut and leaned back on it. "So… what do you want to do now? We still have…," Ken drifted off as he checked the time on his cellphone; "Forty five minutes before our next class starts. Wanna eat breakfast first?"
"Sure," answered Youji as he too packed his bag with books and other paraphernalia. He sighed heavily and said, "I do not even know why I bother with this shit. I'm pretty much set up for life."
"You are going to inherit a multi-million dollar company you egg-head."
"My parents pay people to run the damn thing."
"Your parents do a lot of 'other' things aside from ordering people around."
"Yeah. Like have sex."
"Damn… I didn't need to hear that. Not after the exam. Not this morning."
"Come to think about it, it is a rather gross thought, huh?" Youji shuddered at the image forming in his head.
"You're just hungry. An empty stomach does no good to an empty head."
"Shut up."
"I was kidding. C'mon. There's nothing like a good breakfast."
"You're right. And I would bet anything that Fujimiya's there too," said Youji. He often saw the redhead eat at this time of the morning. Ran, just like Youji and Ken, had classes that cover the lunch hour so taking a heavy brunch was the only way to sustain themselves.
"Err… yeah, I guess. He's got the same schedule as we do."
"I know."
Youji finished checking his things and closed the locker non-too-gently. The sound should've echoed throughout the hallway but hundreds of students hurrying to their classes drowned it amidst their babbles and footsteps. The two men joined the flowing river of multi-colored, living things and pushed their way out of the building.
Next stop, cafeteria. For a breakfast that is composed of whatever's on the menu and a certain redheaded individual.
oOooOooOo
The person Youji was looking for was not so hard to find. At this time in the morning, there are a lot of students lining up to get a good meal for a whole day's work. Amidst the heterogeneous mix, Ran Fujimiya was still easy to spot what with the flaming red hair and pale skin tone. A smirk slowly made it's presence on his handsome face. He focused on Ran alone and was oblivious to Ken's rants about busy mornings and stupid people who stay at their tables far longer than they should.
"These people are unbelievable. They shouldn't be overstaying. Don't they know that there are other people who need to eat? They should study in their dormitories or in the fucking library!" exclaimed Ken as he glared at a group of students who have made two tables their study group's hang out. "I mean, look at them! They didn't even eat anything! Look at their table Youji! Look! Do you see any… err, are you even listening to me!"
"I'm beside you, Ken. You're practically shouting in my ear."
"Well, I don't see you agreeing with me--,"
Youji cut him off before he goes into another tirade. His eyes, however, are still fixated on Ran. "We have a table… but that depends on your ability to share."
"Huh?"
Youji didn't even explain for he knew that if he did, they won't be able to reach the table he was referring to, much less eat. He dragged Ken through the thick walls of people coming and going with trays filled with delicious smelling food. Youji's mouth watered as his nose was attacked by the savory smells of sausages, eggs, bacon, French toast, pancakes, fried rice, ham, and marinated beef strips as they passed by one food stall to another. Ken was complaining, yet again, as he was pulled and led to wherever the hell it is that Youji wanted to sit. Ken answered his own question soon enough as Youji stopped at a table occupied by one person.
"Youji… You've got to be kidding me. Do you want me to puke!"
The blonde wasn't listening though as he let go of Ken's hand to place his bag on the table. Youji leaned towards the person occupying the table.
"Hey. Care to share?" Big smile.
Ran Fujimiya looked up from his plate and looked at the newcomers. Right in front of him stood the bane of his existence and his brown-haired companion. His beautiful, cat like eyes narrowed as he looked at the smile plastered on Youji's face and the pout playing on Ken's. Were they expecting him to share his table? Whatever made Youji think that he would do so was definitely beyond his comprehension. There he was, holding onto his spoon and fork with a half eaten meal, starting to cool on his plate. The ice in his drink shifted and he blinked. He decided to snob the two and continued eating. (I. Don't. Share.)
"I'll take that as a yes!" said Youji as he pulled out a chair and sat right across Ran. The latter was in the process of chewing his food and thus, his reaction was to draw those two, perfect arcs of hair together; his eyes, it seemed, became smaller as he tried to glare even more. Youji only smiled and said, "You do know that you do not own this table. And it is your obligation, as co-student, to share the resources that are made available to us through and by the power of our tuition. So, set your sensibilities aside and let us share this table… A-yaaan."
Ken made a face at the nickname that Youji gave the ill-tempered redhead. (A-yan!) It was a nickname made for women. Why Youji would even call Ran that way was beyond him. "A-yan! So people just give names to their favorite demented pet cat just like 'that'?" Ken emphasized the last word with a quick snap of his fingers.
"You see Ken, people like Ran deserves a special treatme--"
"First of all, my name's not Aya nor A-yan. Second of all, I'm not a fucking demented cat. And lastly, I am no one's fucking pet," said Ran as he threw his utensils down on his plate, making enough noise to get the attention of some people. He didn't need this. It was 9:30 in the morning and his brain was still muddled by lack of sleep. He woke up late earlier that morning, one of the very few times that he had to run like crazy to class. Ran hated tardiness. It was a sign of being unprepared and lack of discipline. In his haste to get to class on time, he forgot his paper and so, Ran had to go back to his condo unit in order to retrieve it. He arrived in class five minutes after the bell rang. Five minutes off his near-perfect attendance was enough to make Ran's vein throb and his temper sent near the edge. But nooo. Fate has a way of mocking him and has sent Capt. Smart Ass and his motor mouth parrot walking down his block. He glared daggers at the two men after losing his appetite to give way to anger.
"Oh c'mon, A-yan. I think you're a special person. And people give their special friends nice nicknames."
"Stop calling me that Kuhdo…"
"Calling you what? A-yaaaan? Oh! Nonononono… maybe you want me to call you Aya-chaaaan…"
Ken looked on. He shook his head, exasperated at the rash actions of his friend. He can literally see dark clouds forming above the two. On a much lighter note though, Ken could imagine Ran sharpening his claws on a whetting stone—ready to slice Youji into several pieces in order to feed him to the sewer rats. He saw Ran clench his fist so tight, the skin over his knuckles were white with tautness. He wasn't paying attention to what Youji was saying anymore as he was anticipating something to happen in the next several seconds. And like in action movies, he saw everything unfold in slow motion—if it was the low blood sugar or the obsession over Matrix that was acting out at that moment, he did not know. Ran's fist moved from being pressed hard against the table to the air. The space between knuckle and face was slowly diminishing; the sound of air resisting the impending blow whooshed. People started looking their way and slowly formed horrified facial expressions at the scene. Youji's face was late to react, nevertheless, it started twisting into shock. People gasped. A few more milliseconds. Ken was pinned on the spot, he did not have the strength to push his friend out of the way. Fist connected with nose with a good solid sound. Then, everything went back to normal speed as Youji went sailing backwards and flipping over the chair. He looked on as his friend sprawled on the cafeteria floor that he failed to take notice of the shove Ran aimed at him. The next thing he knew, he went flying the other way as well. The heavy books in his messenger bag aggravated his situation as it pulled him downwards with more force. "What the…!"
"Fuck you!"
And that was the last thing that everyone heard of Ran Fujimiya as he angrily stomped out of the cafeteria.
oOooOooOo
"Who dhaz he thinkh he iz?"
Ken rolled his eyes. He remembered carrying his best friend's unconscious body to the clinic the last time he encountered Knuckles, Inc. Fortunately, this time around, Youji did not black out afterwards. The commotion that they caused that morning left them with empty stomachs, as they had to go and hide again to prevent any confrontation with the Discipline Officers. As usual, they trusted the people well enough not to tattle on them. This also prevented them from going to the University Clinic as it will only confirm their connection to the mishap. They decided to go to class early and fix Youji's bleeding nose there. Ken got a cold can of soda from a vending machine on their way there and used it as a cold compress for Youji's nose.
"Why do you keep on bothering him anyway? The guy obviously hates you. I mean dude… 'I' would hate you if you weren't my best friend," said Ken.
"Ass-ohwl."
"You do know that I can understand you?" This earned Ken a glare. He huffed and took away the soda can that Youji was holding over his nose. He tore off two, small pieces of tissue, rolled it up, and handed it to Youji. "Place these inside your nose to prevent the blood from flowing too much. Keep your head up… you're still bleeding," instructed Ken as he pushed Youji's head up by the chin. "Look, all I'm saying is, I don't see why you have to talk or interact with him. He's hopeless."
"Ders sumting abowt daht guy. He… kips meeh dhistrahcted."
"Oh really? And I suppose it's worth all this?"
"Doonoh."
"Can't you, for once in your life, give me a straight answer? A complete sentence that actually makes sense?"
All he got was a shrug. Youji just pushed the tissue a bit further up and looked at the ceiling, effectively preventing the blood from spilling to his clothes. Youji's white, designer shirt was ruined. It had bloodstains all over the front and it looked really disgusting. Some of it were already drying up and turning into a deep shade of maroon. "Was this your plan of getting back at him for calling you stupid, snakey… or whatever it was that he called you?"
"Not eksactly"
"Next time, call him Honeybunch, will ya?"
"Do yoo fink he'll like it?"
"I was joking. Jeezuz. Are you serious with this nickname shit?"
Youji only shrugged in response. The door suddenly opened and more students entered the room. Their professor also came in, eliminating any hopes of further discussion. Of course, this irritated Ken to no ends but it was fortunate for the blonde because it was going to give him time to rethink his plan. Actually, he had no plan. He just wanted to piss Ran off. Yet the impromptu nagging opened a new door for Youji. (I'll get back at Ran if it's the last thing that I do.)
oOooOooOo
"So, how's the new school?" asked Crawford. He met up with his long time friend in a swanky café downtown. He was in a business trip for his father's company and decided to drop by.
"It's good. Very few interesting people though. How about you? You just graduated a year ago and now you're on business trips?"
"Unlike some people, Schuldich, I prefer to make ample use of my time."
"Yeah, whatever. Hey, uhh, can you spare me some cash?"
"How much?"
"A couple of thousand. I need to get some stuff for my loft."
"What happened to the money we gave you?"
"I put it in a bank account in Switzerland. I put it on time deposit. Don't want to touch it yet."
"Tthat's payment for your services. You should use it."
"I don't come cheap and you haven't paid the rest of it. Consider the money I'm borrowing a part of my payment already."
"I know. We pay good money for good information. The files you hacked from the computer system of Kuhdo Group of Companies were very reliable."
Schuldich took a long drag from his cigarette and ticked off the ashes. He inhaled the cancerous smoke and exhaled. He replaced it on the ashtray and gave his friend a toothy smile. "Oh… that reminds me. Guess who my schoolmate is?"
Crawford raised an eyebrow. He wasn't sure if he really wanted or needed to know. Nevertheless, he said, "I don't like guessing games."
"You're no fun, you know that? Aren't you good with guessing games? Are you sure you don't want to guess?"
Crawford just stared at the green-haired man in front of him.
"Like I said, you're no fun. It's Kuhdo's son. Youji."
"No. Shit."
"Yep. It's him alright. I got into a fight with him yesterday and…"
"You got into a fight with him?"
"Yeah."
"Look, you idiot. The reason we asked you to go back to school is for you to lie low for a while. Kuhdo's really pissed off and his men are still on the prowl. You should thank your lucky stars that they didn't uncover your tracks just yet."
"Don't worry. I work clean."
"You work clean… but somehow you managed to end up in the same school as Youji Kuhdo. We told you to choose well. We can't protect you all the time. You've got to learn to watch out for your own ass every once in a while."
"Hey! Don't blame me. I didn't expect it either."
"Yeah. Who knew that airheaded son of his would even think of studying."
"You know this Youji guy, Crawford?"
Crawford nodded. He saw the blonde-haired man a couple of years ago in Hong Kong. Youji's father brought him along to teach him some things about the business. Crawford, however, doubted if the heir to the Kuhdo empire even cared. They were introduced during the conference and Crawford saw right through the younger man's act of enthusiasm. It doubled his determination to overcome one of their company's biggest competition. After earning his Masteral's degree, he immediately set out to destroy Kuhdo Group of Companies. He asked his long time friend, Schuldich, to hack into their system and extract important data. The older Kuhdo apparently had some suspicious accounts and various transactions with dubious groups. KGC lawyers had to hire people to act as escape goats for the company—they admitted to the crime in exchange for money and protection for their families.
"KGC allies are after your ass as well."
"Hmm?"
"After the Kuhdo case, authorities went after the underground groups. It set off a chain of events and important people were investigated. Some are facing lifetime imprisonment, maybe even worse."
Schuldich started laughing. "No shit! Don't tell me our little secret did society good?"
"Yes, it did. But the KGC dogs are sniffing your tracks."
"Crawford, how many times do I have to tell you that I work clean. They won't trace me."
"You'd better be damn sure that there are no breadcrumbs leading to our doorstep."
Schuldich rolled his eyes. Crawford's obsessive-compulsiveness coupled with his paranoia can be irritating sometimes. Despite himself though, he cannot keep the nagging feeling inside his head. He knew that KGC can afford anyone and that would include professionals just as good as him. Maybe even better. He took a long drag from his cigarette and stubbed it out. Cigarette butts and ash almost filled the ashtray to the brim.
"You will die, you know that?" said Crawford, breaking Schuldich's reverie.
"What?"
"That filthy habit of yours, it will take its toll on your health," Crawford said as he pointed at the ashtray.
"What's the point of living if you can't enjoy it?" With that, the green haired man stood and straightened out his clothes. "Gotta go. I have something to do. See you around." He looked at his friend sitting across the table. He saw something in his eyes that is somewhat akin to worry. He shrugged and said, "They won't get me." Schuldich turned and walked away. Just before the door closed, he heard Crawford say, "Stay away from him. He's bad news."
OOooOooOo
After class, Youji said that he had a plan that 'would surely make Ran pay'. Those were the exact words that his friend used as they left the university grounds. They went to Youji's chic, downtown condominium to talk about it. Upon arrival, Youji went straight to his room to change his shirt. Having changed into a comfortable red top, he went out to join his bestfriend in the living room. Youji immediately went into the 'so-called' details of his plan. After ten minutes have passed, the whole unit came alive with Ken's voice.
"WHAT!"
"It's a great idea, trust me."
"Oh. God."
"What! It's a flawless plan my dear friend."
Of all the lame brained ideas Youji came up with, this has got to be the icing on the cake. Ken felt glued on the couch—nailed is more like it—when Youji finished explaining his idea. "Plan? What plan! THAT IS NOT A PLAN! Playing the other field has got to be the stupidest idea you ever came up with!"
"Playing what?"
"It's a metaphor, genius. A metaphor for 'that'!"
"Oooooohhhh…"
"What would people say? What will they do? What will you do? What am I going to do!"
"Calm. Down. It's just a plan."
"Oh yeah? What if you end up playing the other team—PERMANENTLY."
"What's wrong with that?"
"Well… nothing really. I mean, I've always been open minded with that sort of thing. But… of all people that I would suspect, you would be the last."
"Woah there. Let's make things clear. I am not yet one... of them."
"Okay, see? There's the 'yet' in your sentence. That means your preparing yourself for a possible outcome."
"Ken. The plan's simple. Make Ran think I am one. Make him fall for me. Then, after a few months—"
"MONTHS!"
"Fine. Weeks. As I was saying, after a few 'weeks', I would end everything and tell him the truth. What's so hard about that?"
"You overlooked a couple of variables, Einstein."
"Like what?"
"One, you're not sure if he is one. Two, even if he is one, why would he choose you? Three, and I cannot stress this one enough, what are the other people going to think? Your social life will go down the drain."
"We'll tell them."
"Tell them. Right. What do you think this is, the Truman Show? Ran's not supposed to know about it but everyone else does? Sometime… somewhere… somehow… someone is bound to slip and he will know."
"You're so pessimistic. What if this plan is fool-proof? I mean, we'll never know 'till we try, right? So what if it fails? The student body's bound to forgive a little mishap. And Ran, well, he'll remain the way he is—as if his attitude can't get any worse."
"You're to presumptuous. Predicting your success in a game that you're trying for the first time can make you hasty and careless."
"C'mon Ken. Think. It will be one sweet victory if it works."
"That's my point, right there. 'IF' it works," said Ken while making imaginary quotation marks in the air. "And what will happen to me? I'm bound to have rumors and lies passed behind my back. What if… what if they think I'm gay?"
"Don't worry. I'm the only one 'exploring other possibilities' here. Atleast, that's what we'll let them know. Besides, I'm bisexual."
"Gay. Bisexual. Cross-dresser. What's the difference?"
Youji shrugged. "I don't know, but I think the people who claim that they are one of those will be angry if they hear you."
"So you're a gay expert all of a sudden?"
"I'm just being politically correct here. Anyways, start taking down notes. We need to execute our plan as soon as possible."
"And how are we going to do that?"
"Easy. We make an anonymous call to Lavender."
"Who the hell is Lavender?"
"Ken. Are you this clueless? He's a well known gay-guy on campus. He has this group called Purple. Remember them? They launched the signature campaign to make me Campus Man 2003."
"Oh, hell no. Not them again."
"Now you remember."
"But I thought there leader's name is Swallow?"
"Yeah. It used to be. Until blowjobs became popular."
Ken frowned at the word. "Damn… does it have to be Swal—I mean, does it have to be Lavender?"
"He's the only one who can make this possible."
"So let me get this straight. Lavender receives a tip from an anonymous caller that Youji Kuhdo is 'exploring other possibilities'. Then what?"
"If I know Lavender, he would have banners and posters up by next week."
"Saying that you're bisexual!"
"That I'm their new interest. Fine. Maybe not banners or posters, but he can spread the word. Trust me."
"Youji, tell me again why we have to spread the rumor that your bisexual?"
"Just so Ran does not suspect anything."
(This is nuts.) The veins on Ken's head started throbbing again. There were too many information going in and out of his brain. Unwelcome information, but critical for the plan's success. Regardless of the strain that his neurons are undergoing at the moment, he knew that one way or the other Youji will get his way. He knew that Ken will support him no matter what. Pinned down by his loyalty, he heaves a sigh of resignation and asks, "What is Lavender's cell number?"
"I knew you'd come around. Here, use my cellphone."
"Dumb ass. Using your landline or cellphone will make it easier for them to trace the call back to you. We need to use a payphone."
"We need to write what we're going to say first. There's some paper in that drawer," said Youji as he pointed to an antique desk. Ken stood up to get the paper. Youji smiled, contented in his own perfect, little world. His plan was going to be flawless. He'll make sure of it. If he was going to be bisexual, he'll play it like he really is one. No one will ever know until the time comes when he drops the bomb. (Fujimiya will never know what hit him.)
"I still think this is a bad idea," said Ken, breaking his friend's reverie.
"If you're worried about Ran's sexual preference, I'm betting all my money that he is either gay or bisexual. And if he's not, it'll take a Youji Kuhdo to turn him into one."
Ken rolled his eyes but pulled the cap off his pen nonetheless. He shifted into a writing position and said, "Start shooting."
oOooOooOo
"Late again," Ran murmured as he looked at his cellphone. The digital clock just turned 3:40 and to him, it was another minute wasted waiting for the green-haired student he aptly named Broccoli Head. A dried leaf fell on top of his head; the twenty-fifth leaf to find a final resting spot on his hair that afternoon. He shook his head and it fell to ground. He shifted in his seat, finding the cool autumn air not-so-cool anymore. He's always been sensitive to temperature changes—the reason why his black, suede jacket is now folded neatly on his lap.
His lower extremities have suffered a severe case of pins and needles after leaving his legs crossed for too long. Now that he had them in their natural position however, they felt uncomfortable and detached. (What is taking him so long?) He crossed his arms across his chest and looked up at the pale, blue-grey sky. Admiring the way the clouds were spread thinly across the atmosphere. Looking at the beautiful sky-scape made Ran's eyes droop; those beautiful orbs of amethyst remembered the sleep that their owner owed them. Ran's stiff form started to sag, his tired muscles giving in.
"Ran!"
The redhead was shocked out of his half asleep state; arms at his side, eyes wide in its forced wakefulness. He turned to his side, only to find Broccoli Head with an irritating smirk on his face. He glared daggers at Schuldich and said, "What the hell took you so long? I said 3:00 pm. What time is it now?"
"Hey. Take it easy on me. I got lost on my way here. I went downtown to meet an old friend and going back proved to be harder than I thought," said Schuldich, one hand raised apologetically at Ran. "I knew I would not make it in time so I bought you something. Here." Schuldich showed what he was holding behind his back. It was a red box that had a cellophane covering in the middle. It contained some sort of pastry inside.
Ran looked at the package being given to him, then back at Broccoli Head.
"Don't worry. I won't poison you. I stopped by this Chinese specialty store called Eng Bee Tin. They were cooking this when I passed by. They called it 'hopia'. They taste really good… here, take it," said Schuldich as he bent down to give it to Ran.
Ran took the package and said, "This does not change the fact that you're late. We could've covered a lot in forty minutes."
"Won't happen again."
"It'd better not," said Ran as he put the red box into his bag. He stood up, slipped into his jacket, and then through the lengthy straps of his bag. "I assume you know the main buildings already?" He looked at Schuldich to confirm and was answered by a nod. He turned around and started walking the other direction, crunching dried leaves beneath his shoes. A sudden shuffling behind him assured Ran that the green-haired man was following. "It won't hurt to run them by you again. As you know, we have shortcuts for each of them and they are often paired with room numbers. There on the left is the Liberal Arts building or LA. The next one to it is the Hall of Sciences or HS. A little further back you would see the—"
"You sound like a tour guide Ran," said Schuldich. Ran's personality and demeanor reminded him of Crawford. Anal. Anal. Anal.
"And how do you propose I do this?" asked Ran as he turned to face the complaining man behind him.
"I don't know. Get a map of the school grounds or something and then point them one by one."
"Then maybe you can do it yourself?"
"I would but I'd probably end up not doing it."
"So shut up and listen. This is the best way I know that will effectively show and teach you your way around the university," Ran retorted. "And I do suggest that you keep up."
"What's up your ass?" asked Schuldich as he begrudgingly followed the redhead.
"You."
"You want me to be?"
The red head momentarily stopped. He shook his head and sighed heavily. "As I was saying, the building behind the Hall of Sciences is the Computer Applications building, or as the students like to call it, Planet X. Computer laboraties…"
Schuldich's grin could split his face into two by now. Whether the redhead caught the innuendo or not, he was satisfied with how he's running things. He likes trouble, no, make that, he is trouble. This is how he get his kicks. Playing with people and their minds—the one in front of him is not an exception. The man fascinated him, physically and mentally; but that only made him a target for Schuldich's attention. He liked to play around with his prey, it only made the game of cat and mouse all the more exciting. He likes playing dirty, and if his name does not say it all, he did not know what will. Schuldich. Guilty as charged.
"Are you listening?" said an irritated Ran. Arms crossed across his chest, eyes boring holes into Schuldich. "If you prefer to day dream, tell me and I'll show you a good spot and leave you there. I have other things to do."
The green-haired man slid his hands into the pockets of his white coat, walked up to Ran. "I'm listening. You have my full attention. Trust me."
Ran rolled his eyes and started walking again. He started pointing here and there all over again, as he went on and on about the structure, placement, and history of the university; rendering him oblivious to the look that his green-haired companion was giving him.
oOooOooOo
Schuldich stared at the plain, white ceiling of his bedroom. Aside from the bed, the couch, the fridge, and a number of big furniture, the whole condominium was relatively empty. The only decorations, if you may, are his toiletries in the bathroom and his clothes in the large, stark white dresser standing on the other side of the big room.
After the meeting with Ran, Crawford called him up about the money he asked for. Crawford set up an account for him that contained several thousand dollars in a local bank. Aside from the money, an interior designer and his staff will arrive tomorrow to take care of the unit for him.
The man thought of everything. It was times like these that Schuldich thanked the heavens that Crawford had the same exquisite taste as he does.
However, he knew better than to feel at ease. Crawford had a way of raining on his parade everytime. A few minutes after they talked, he received a second call. And that time around, he did not like what Crawford had to say.
(One of our moles just sent in a message. KGC just hired a new computer specialist. He's only sixteen years old but is good at what he does. His codename is Bombay and he's out to get your ass.)
(Woah… are you telling me a whiny kid's going to crack my programming? I don't think so. And even if he is really good, it would take a long time before he can uncover my tracks.)
(Time is not important to KGC. They only want to find whoever's responsible for the hacking and they won't stop 'till they find you and the people who hired you to do the job. In other words—)
(In other words, you're too paranoid.)
(Am I? Or am I just telling the truth? I need you to watch your step from now on.)
(I am and I will. Don't worry.)
(Are you sure that you didn't leave something out during the operation?)
(I didn't. Why are you getting so worked up? If I left a glitch, I'd be dead a long time ago and you would be up to your ears in shit.)
(Something's nagging at the back of my head, Schuldich. And it's not good.)
His conversation with Crawford was playing in his head over and over again. (That anal bastard. Why does he have to burst my bubble everytime…) Did he leave something out? Surely, it would've caught his attention. His execution was flawless, his encryptions unbreakable, and his clean up unquestionable. Like the perfect thief, he made sure that he left nothing behind—nothing.
He does not use the same computer and does not stay at the same place when he's doing his job. Besides, he works in the last place they would ever think of.
(There's one other thing I'm concerned with. Youji Kuhdo.)
(I'm perfectly fine here. Besides, that guy's so fucking stupid, he wouldn't know the similarities between him and a sea sponge. So do me a favor and chill.)
(I'll be sending a new cellphone, and couple of new sim cards for you to use. Dispose of this one as soon as the package arrives.)
(You want me to use prepaid? What the hell's wrong with this line anyway?)
(You've been using it for the past six months and if my memory serves me correct, it is registered under one of your aliases. Destroy anything that has a connection to the operation. Any names, gadgets, anything that will give you away must be disposed of, as soon as possible. Do not give away any of your new numbers. Are you listening?)
(Care to repeat? I forgot to take down notes.)
(I hope you still have the same amount of humor left in you when you've got a gun aimed at your head. By the way, do not purchase anything other than food. The last thing I need is you making up another alias. Am I clear?)
Schuldich felt as if his head was about to explode. "Is it just me or is my life too fucking exciting for my own good?" The conversation he had with Crawford had been on permanent playback for the last hour. He's been lying on his over comfortable bed for the longest time, staring at nothing—except worry his ass off.
He finally stood up, having had enough of his unpleasant 'rest', and headed for an open window. He felt around his for his cigarettes; having found them, he took one and lighted it. He placed the pack on the windowsill and took a couple of deep drags from the cancer stick. He then held onto the ledge as he leaned over the window.
Dots. The people at the bottom were mere specks from were he was looking. Dots coming in and out of cars. Dots disappearing around the corner. Dots.
"Pathetic people, useless existence," mumbled the green-haired man. He leaned a little further and shouted, "I'd rather die than live your lives!"
On any given day, he is contented with his life. Well, contented in the sense that he was able to pull his life away from mediocrity to something more extravagant, more materialistic, and more pleasurable. He takes great pride in being able to savor a different sort of high from his lifestyle. Sure, his life and the way he sustains it is far from noble, but at least it was not boring. It wasn't always like this—when he was younger, he forced himself to enjoy bland tasting porridge and hand-me down clothes that were way too big for him. Growing up in an orphanage in god knows where was far from what he would call satisfying. Memories of those days are mere shadows now. The only thing that would pin him to his past would be his features and his accent. He was of German lineage and he grew up with kids heralding from the same region as his country, that much he knew. He doesn't really care. The only thing that is vivid in his memories was the time when a rich man and his son came to the orphanage he was staying at. It happened often enough for him not to care anymore. Rich people came to adopt a son or a daughter but they always wanted the babies. While all the other kids lined up, Schuldich stayed put. He sat on the window sill, stubborn and unmoving—having had enough of rejections in the past. (What about him, dad?) He heard the boy say as he pointed right at him. The rich man looked at Schuldich, smiled, and turned to one of the caretakers. They started talking while his son approached Schuldich. Black hair, black-rimmed eye glasses, lanky body structure, and a geeky suit that matched the one that his old man wore—the boy looked a bit older than Schuldich. He extended his hand and Shculdich shook it.
(My name's Brad Crawford, what's yours?)
(They call me Schuldich.)
(Do you like the name?)
(It took a while to get used to but yeah, I got the hang of it.)
(My father thinks I need a friend. A brother of some sort. He's going to adopt you.)
(That means I have to use your surname. I don't like it.)
(I detest your orange hair so I guess we're on fair ground.)
(Why me?)
(I don't like whiny, dirty brats.)
(Same here. I guess I should be thankful… Are you going to change my whole name?)
(The surname must stick for legal matters.)
(Tell you what, let me keep my name and I'll change my hair color.)
(Why change it?)
(I hate it just as much.)
Schuldich could only laugh at his luck. He owed Crawford and his father his life and because of that debt, he did both big and small favors. Some of which, had he been frail and sensitive, would have sent his sanity over the edge. He pushed himself further than he ever thought possible, especially after he was sent to school to study. It was clear that he was to do good in academics for expectations that were then unclear to him. He had killed and tortured people to protect the interests of his benefactors. Crawford shared just as much guilt and sin as he does—it somehow made the burden of taking life in those earlier, more futile years less. He found himself in a liaison that supported each other's interest. Not a bad position, he supposed. He got what he wanted after all. In a way, it was also like stepping out of the pot and into the fire. However, it was the life that he learned to love. Life threatening experiences is not necessarily an added bonus to the package deal but it was worth it. And conscience simply disappears after one has twisted a neck or two.
After years of uncertainty, he finally decided that his life was better than not having one. He started enjoying it for whatever it is worth.
His current situation was no different from the others. It was part of the job after all. He might as well start doing things right.
He noticed that a short column of ash formed at the top of his cigarette. He flicked the ash out the open window and took a long drag from his cigarette, savoring the mint-laced smoked as it passes down his throat. With his free hand, he dug into his pocket to get his cellphone.
"I hope you hit someone on your way down," Schuldich said to the inanimate object he held in front of his face. He aimed and was about to throw the cellphone out the window when he felt it vibrate. He looked at the screen.
(1 message received)
He opened the message.
(Good afternoon Schuldich. This is Ran. The vice-dean called me up a while ago. He told me to keep you company, atleast until you are more familiar with the school grounds. Sending your daily schedule would be much appreciated.)
After what seemed like an eternity, a smile crossed his face again. His earlier intentions for the cellphone forgotten, he replied to the message.
(I'll give it to you tomorrow. What time does your morning class en…………)
Schuldich threw his cigarette out the window—his interest caught by the message he received… and the person who sent it. His fingers pushing the keys that coordinated with the letters he needed to form his reply. The soft clicking of the keypad is the loudest sound heard in the empty unit—urban noise greatly muffled in the background.
Long shadows are cast on the white carpet as the red-orange sun slowly slides down the horizon. The lone silhouette of a man gradually joins the arms of darkness.
TBC
Tagalog-to-English Translations:
Lahat Ng Matatamis Na Bagay : All Sweet Things
Kabanata :Chapter
Sinukmani : Sticky rice cooked in coconut milk and brown sugar. A type of rice pudding made in the Southern Tagalog Region of Luzon (one of the three main islands in the Philippines).
Hopia :Basically a savory or desert-type of pastry with flavors ranging from sweet Mung Bean paste to Pork. The said stuffing is covered by dough, shaped into cubes or half-inch thick disks, and then fried on a hot plate until brown and flaky. Fil-Chinese in origin, this pastry is one of the most common snacks of Filipinos and is sold all over the country.
Eng Bee Tin :This is the name of a Chinese deli store in Binondo (the China town of Manila). My parents love buying food there—everything from moon cakes to bacon.
A-yan :I cannot take credit for this monicker. I got this from a favorite fan fic of mine. Unfortunately, I forgot the title and the author's name.
Extra notes:
Sorry for the long delay. I had to finish my thesis during my writing hiatus. It was only weeks after the start of summer vacation was I able to wake up from what I call the 'school year hang over'. And I am still groggy. Anyways, that was chapter 2. When I started this fic, I didn't know where it was going. However, in the process of writing this chapter, I was able to come up with a good plot. You might notice that I shift from character to character. I feel that you guys need to know what's happening from all sides. Please read carefully from now on. This fic might turn even more complicated in the next few chapters. The plot thickens, as they always say. So please, bear with me. I'm keeping my fingers crossed… this one's challenging. This fic is not really what it seems. For the people who want to have some real action to happen between Ran, Youji, and Schuldich (coughs if you take my meaning coughs), you'll have to wait a bit more. I already wrote hints of that here. So, I hope that will be enough for now.
Actually, I don't know why I'm writing this note… I'm not even sure if anyone's reading my fic. Lolz. Ah well.