Part Six - The Rules
No matter how consuming Love may be, Society has its own laws that cannot be broken without consequences.
He took her back to the same place he'd taken her last time. This clinically nondescript apartment complex was the home that he was always returning her to. Now, it felt as if this place was summoning her back out of existence. He'd soon wake up and find that she was all a sapphire colored dream. She'd be gone, and he'd go through all the defunct motions of his life again. He didn't even know her, but she was quickly consuming every remnant of meaning he thought he'd found in his life.
Did really he have so little to live for that this girl could mean so much to him?
He pulled up to the sidewalk with a stoic expression on his face and waited for her to exit the car, with the customary long look and a swift goodbye. Then he'd watch her disappear through the front doors and nurse the wounds she'd inevitably leave behind. Except this time, he promised himself he'd try better to forget all about her. She didn't move.
"Isn't this the place?" He asked curiously.
"Yes," She wouldn't meet his eyes. She stared intently at the dashboard in from of her and sighed tremulously, "But I want . . . I mean, I was wondering, if you'd like to meet Ishi."
Why did they sound like a pair of thirteen year olds on a first date? This entire situation was ridiculous when he thought about it. It was preposterous. It was absurd. It was a bunch of other words he could think of right now. One would think they'd known each other a life time the way they were carrying on. In truth, they knew next to nothing about one another. What made her think he wasn't some kind of twisted serial killer just waiting to get her alone?
"Hiroaki?" Her faltering voice made him realize he hadn't answered her yet.
"I . . . sure, I guess," A small part of him wondered just how far they could take this before things began getting weird, but he was in too deep to turn back to shore now, "That is, if . . . will your parents mind?"
"They aren't home," She mumbled, looking at him through a curtain of inky eyelashes.
"What?" Hiroaki whirled and faced her, with a strange look on his face, "I don't know then Natsuko. Perhaps this isn't such a good idea."
He was suddenly extremely uneasy about the entire situation. Seeing her in public was one thing, but going into her home with no parental supervision was quite another. She was distractingly beautiful, and he wasn't exactly the paragon of restraint. He needed something to take his attention off the fact that this girl sitting beside him was inviting him into a potentially disastrous situation.
"Please Hiroaki," She stuck out her bottom lip and gave him a pleading look, "It'll be alright. They won't mind." She conveniently left out the fact that she didn't intend for the Oikawas to ever find out.
He still looked wary, of the idea. He was biting the inside of his cheek and was pointedly avoiding looking at her. He was also beginning to fiddle nervously with car lock. The rhythmic clicking was soothing on his nerves, but it was beginning to irritate her. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore.
"You're going to break that," She placed a tiny, yet firm hand on his shoulder and spoke in a falsely serious tone that eventually deteriorated into a burst of effervescent giggles, "I promise I won't try and take advantage of you. I'll be a good girl."
Hiroaki gulped and looked her up and down surreptitiously, "That's not what I'm worried about."
Natsuko didn't seem to notice. Either that or she didn't seem to care, and it was hard to tell which it was. She gave him the biggest puppy eyes he'd ever seen, and snatched his arm away from the car lock. At this close proximately he could smell something that reminded him of Sakura blossoms in her hair, but it wasn't that. It was something entirely her own that he could put a name to. He had this crazy impulse to yank those golden tresses out of their fancy up do, and run his fingers through them. He curled his hands into fists against the temptation.
"Would you do it for my birthday?" She was using those eyes against him, shamelessly, and it was working.
He sighed and brought a hand up to massage his temples. What had he done to deserve this?
Ten minutes later she was letting herself into the Oikawas' apartment with Hiroaki at her heels.
"Why did I let you talk me into this?" He sighed with exasperation and stole a guilty look around to make sure nobody was watching them from the hallway.
"Because you like me," She smiled sweetly, even through her admonition that followed, "And stop acting so nervous. We're not robbing a bank."
She pushed the door open, and it swung inward to reveal the biggest apartment Hiroaki had ever seen. The spacious living area was lavish and costly, without a single crystal ornament or priceless painting out of place. Around the corner was a room that he could only assume was the kitchen, and another sitting room. Two more hallways branched off the main room, each leading to even more doors. This was definitely not a home with children living in it. It looked like the whole place would shatter if he touched one thing wrong. On the whole, it was just as white and sterilized as the building looked on the outside.
"Ishi!" Natsuko cried happily and dropped to her knees.
A little ball of sinuous marmalade colored fur slithered out from under one of the couches and chirped a greeting. He was a young cat, barely out of his kittenhood with lanky limbs and a short orange coat. Hiroaki had never really seen a cat up close before, so the whole experience was a novelty to him. Ishi's whiskers were long and dainty, and his huge ears constantly swivelled curiously, picking up even the slightest noise and taking it in. He had a tiny pink nose, a flicking tail, and his weight was completely supported on four, furry little paws. He accepted Natsuko's shower of affection appreciatively, arching his back and purring his pleasure.
"Ishi, this is Hiroaki," Natsuko explained to the cat, who seemed to be too wrapped up in her petting to pay any attention, "He's a friend of mine."
However, once she ceased petting him, the marmalade tabby blinked and fixed Hiroaki with his swirling yellow eyes, as if sizing up his intentions. His pupils were piercing slits, and combined with the coal black lining around the rims, they were an altogether discomforting sight. He had never come face to face with a cat before, and he found himself quite intimidated by the small creature. Those eyes were like ex-rays to the soul. No wonder he'd never considered himself a cat person. Perhaps she'd leave the introductions at that.
"You can pet him if you want," She said cheerfully, dashing all his hopes.
"Will . . . he bite?" Hiroaki asked hesitantly. Not that it mattered. He'd probably pet a sabertooth tiger if she told him to. How had she gotten such a hold on him?
"Of course not," She seemed to find his trepidation quite humorous, a fact that wounded his pride more than a little, "He's a cat, not a piranha."
"Same thing," Hiroaki muttered under his breath.
She shot him a scathing look, but chose not to comment. He realized that even in her anger she was positively delectable. He was never going to get her off his mind at this rate. How come he wasn't even trying?
Tentatively he reached out a hand and placed it on the cat's silky back. Ishi just looked at him imperiously, as if he knew his feeble attempt at petting would be exceedingly boring at best. Once he was satisfied that the cat wouldn't chomp his hand off, Hiroaki stroked his back the way he'd seen Natsuko do it, except extremely gentle and in one direction. Ishi yawned, displaying an impressive amount of miniature teeth, stretched, and walked off, tail in the air.
"I don't think he likes me much," Hiroaki smirked, knowing the feeling was mutual.
"Nonsense," Natsuko insisted, "He just needs some time to get used to you. He usually runs away from anyone but me."
"I never would have thought that they'd even let you have a cat in this place," He took in their pristine surroundings with one sweep of his eyes, "You must really have them wrapped around your finger."
"Well they aren't happy about giving him to me anymore," She stood up and brushed orange fur off her jeans, letting it rain onto the carpet, "He shredded some of the furniture when we first got him, so they had him declawed. Then they asked me if it was possible to have him defurred as well."
Again, a weighty silence settled over them. Hiroaki was trying to imagine how Natsuko could have lived in this sterile museum as a child. Her parents must've followed her around with hand sanitizer and a feather duster. Or it might've been easier to just surround her with childproof fences. Either way it explained why she, just like everything else in the apartment, was beautiful and breakable. Natsuko, for her part, was busy forming her own questions.
"How old are you, Hiroaki?" She asked suddenly.
"I thought you said you weren't going to try to seduce me," He teasingly raised an eyebrow, she punched him lightly in the arm.
"It's just a question," She insisted with a small smile on her face, "I told lots of things about me, but I was just realizing that I don't really know anything about you."
Hiroaki sighed and pushed his glasses up on his nose. He knew it would come to this eventually, "I'm twenty-three."
She nodded to herself, "Interesting," He was younger than her fiancé.
"What's so interesting about that?" He demanded.
She just looked at him through lupine eyes, like she knew a secret that she'd never tell. He had a maddening urge to back her into the nearest immaculate piece of furniture and kiss every mystery out of her. Maybe just to get this place a little dirty, maybe just because he wanted her, or maybe both. He had to get out of her apartment before he did just that.
"Well, I think I have to be back at work now," He checked his watch and realized that he was already fifteen minutes overdue from his lunch break. How had he lost track of time?
"Alright," She bit her lip and finally forced out the words she'd always wanted to tell him, "Thank you Hiroaki. For everything."
"It was nothing," He put his hand on the doorknob to open it, but froze when he heard the distinct sound of a key turning in the lock.
Before either of them could react, the door was open and they both blanched, caught in the act. He wasn't even sure what act they'd committed, but whatever it was, it made him feel guilty. As pale as Hiroaki was, that didn't even compare with how quickly the color drained from Natsuko's face. She looked like a wild band of ax murderers had just surrounded them.
There was a man in the doorway who was probably no more than few years older than Hiroaki, though his face made him look much older. It was thin and pale with thick eyebrows and deep, dark eyes. He was tall, about as tall as Hiroaki himself, with well-kept slick, black hair. He didn't look angry yet, only mildly surprised to see the two people standing frozen in his living room.
"Yurkio," Natsuko gasped in relief and slumped against a wall with a hand on her forehead.
Hiroaki didn't see any reason why she should be feeling relieved about the whole situation, but his throat was sandpapery with shock, so he decided to remain quiet. Natsuko knew better what was going on anyway. He could see that her breathing had still not returned to normal and her chest was rising and falling rapidly. Her terror was only just beginning to subside. He didn't understand what could have frightened her so bad.
"Natsuko?" Yurkio stepped into the room and regarded Hiroaki curiously, "Who is your friend?"
Natsuko made a strange sound that indicated that she was still recovering from her near nervous breakdown. Hiroaki could practically see the gears in her mind stopping and operating quickly in reverse as she tried to formulate a fast answer, "This . . . this is Hiroaki Ishida. He's the guy who saved me from the muggers that day when I went to the pet store."
"Oh, how wonderful," Yurkio smiled pleasantly and bowed in Hiroaki's direction, "Yurkio Oikawa, delighted to make your acquaintance. Now I finally have a chance to thank you in person. That was a very noble act of yours, saving my fiancee from almost certain defilement. I do hope she's given you something to show our gratitude."
Hiroaki was stunned speechless. He could have sworn he'd just heard this man say something about Natsuko being his fiancee. But that was impossible. First of all, he looked like he could be her father, and second of all, if she was someone's fiancee, she would have mentioned it before now. Wouldn't she? He searched her eyes for some indication that this man hadn't said what he thought he had, but she gave him the briefest of watery looks before turning away from him.
"Uh . . ." His voice cracked on emotion he didn't even know he had, and he had to clear his throat to continue, "Thanks."
Yurkio looked puzzled by his response, but Hiroaki neither noticed nor cared. He was still looking at Natsuko. He couldn't take his eyes off her, no matter how painful her silence was. She was still doing an admirable job of avoiding his gaze. There was something defeated about her now, and he almost felt bad for her. Until, he remembered what she hadn't said. Yurkio moved in front of him still smiling that ridiculously oblivious smile that clashed horribly with his gaunt face. This effectively blocked her from his sight.
"I should get you something to show our respects," Yurkio beamed, pleased with himself for thinking of it, and scurried off in the direction of the kitchen, "I'll be right back."
Hiroaki only barely heard him. He felt sick and lightheaded all at once. Like he'd just been spun around on a merry-go-round and run ten miles at the same time. He couldn't be here any longer.
"That won't be necessary," He could only manage a hoarse whisper. The air in this room was suddenly suffocating.
And then, before either of them could stop him, he left without saying goodbye.
"I wonder why he left in such a hurry," Yurkio paused and spoke to Natsuko once the door was closed, but she didn't respond, "Suko?"
He turned to look at his future bride and found that her eyes were the glassy blue of unshed tears. Something was afoot here. Something more than she was letting on.
