Disclaimer: I don't own Full Moon plot or characters. Nor do I own the lyrics from The Doors music.
CHAPTER FOUR
At lunch on Monday the in-crowd decided to eat sitting around one of the raised planters in the quad. The basin-like structures had a concrete lip that ran around the edges which was perfect to sit on. It was a warm day, and Izumi was glad they decided to sit under the shade from the maple tree growing in the middle of the planter.
"So what did you think of the Rascals last night, Izumi?" asked Owata.
The sun made everyone sleepy, so Izumi didn't expect much response when he answered.
"I think they were trying too hard."
"Too hard to do what?" asked Owata curiously. He was a big kid, the captain of the basketball team, and he sprawled along the planter's edge, taking up more room than anyone else.
"To be like 'The Doors'," Izumi answered, naming an American group his mother favored. "They were trying to sound 'guttural'," he used an English word. Izumi never completely forgot his mother's native language, and studied extra hard in his English classes. He was always trying to learn and remember new and unusual words. It impressed the teachers.
"Guttural?" Owata asked. "What's that?"
Conscious that the eyes of the golden clique were on him, Izumi drew a breath and plunged ahead. "Gutteral, you know, like the way The Doors sing 'Love her Madly'." Still getting blank looks, Izumi did his best impression of Jim Morrison and began to sing softly,
"Don't ya love her madly
Don't ya need her badly
Don't ya love her ways
Tell me what you say
Don't ya love her when she's walkin' out the door"
Izumi coughed self-consciously and said, "You know, like that."
Owata and the others began to clap. Ii smacked Izumi lightly on the shoulder. "Good impression!" he told him.
"I disagree," said Hitomi.
She was sitting on the ground with her back to the planter that Izumi was sitting on. The girls had spread a towel from the P.E. department on the grass and she was sitting with her two best friends on either side of her. Izumi couldn't see her face, but he could hear the displeasure in her voice as she went on.
"I don't think they were trying to be like some American band. They wrote their own songs, like the last one, 'Love Ain't Fair,' so how can you say that they're trying too hard to be like someone else's band?"
"I…didn't mean…." Izumi started, then trailed off. What didn't he mean? The Rascals were copycats. He'd even recognized bits and pieces of melodies from the Allman Brothers and Three Dog Night in their songs. What he hadn't meant to do was make Hitomi angry. Everything he said today seemed to make her angry.
"I liked them. I'm going to their concert on Saturday." Hitomi said firmly, still not looking at him.
Owata glanced at Hitomi and Izumi nervously then said, "Let's all go. Maybe they'll sound better the next time around."
The conversation moved on, the lunch bell rang, and Izumi didn't see Hitomi until she met him at his car. For a moment, he thought she wasn't going to be there.
"Have I done anything to make you mad?" he asked her. They seemed to be staring at each other across the top of the car a lot lately.
Hitomi shook her head and avoided his gaze, rubbing her finger along the top of the corvette. "Why do you ask that?"
"You just seem…distant."
She shrugged. "It's just that you're so opinionated sometimes. It makes me angry, you know?"
"I'm…sorry." Izumi would apologize a thousand times more if Hitomi would only smile at him again. "I'll try not to be."
She was silent, refusing to look at him, so he went on.
"Are we still on for dinner Friday night?"
They'd made plans weeks ago to go on a real date, just the two of them. Hitomi's parents were going out of town for the weekend, and Hitomi was supposed to go to her Aunt Ritsuka's house after Ritsuka got home from work on Friday. Hitomi's parents often sent her to her aunt while they were gone. Izumi volunteered to take her to dinner first since her aunt got off work late on Fridays.
"About that…" Hitomi looked over at him. "I have to cancel. My aunt is getting off work early. She wants me to eat dinner with her."
Izumi felt his shoulders slump.
"Don't be like that, Izumi. You can still drive me home so I can pack for the weekend."
"I can drive you to your aunt's house when you're done packing."
"No, my aunt's going to pick me up. It's all arranged."
She sounded so final about it. Defeated, Izumi agreed and went around to open the car door for her. There would be other opportunities to prove to Hitomi how much he cared for her. It was just that he'd been counting on using their date Friday night to make up for ruining their evening after the dance. It would have to wait.
o-o-o
The days passed and Hitomi seemed to perk up a little. She started humming again, which she only did when she was happy. Izumi grew hopeful. At the newspaper office, he threw himself into writing more articles to make it up to Matsudairo.
He edited and proofed Tokiwa's article for her, and handed it in.
Tokiwa asked him about it later.
"It was fine, Tokiwa."
Tokiwa smiled sadly and pushed her glasses back up her nose. "You sound kind. People always sound kind when they are trying to soften the blow. You can be honest with me, you know. How bad was it?"
"Please, sit." Izumi patted the chair next to his desk, and Tokiwa obeyed. If she wanted the truth, then he should give it to her. "It was honest and accurate, and that is the first rule of newspaper reporting. You mentioned exactly what happened at the dance."
"But…?" Tokiwa asked shyly.
Izumi looked at her. Tokiwa was gazing at him with soft, expectant eyes. Her hands were clenching the skirt of her school uniform, even though her face was serene. He sighed. She'd asked for the truth after all.
"But there was no sense of assessment," Izumi told her.
"Assessment?" Tokiwa cocked her head wonderingly.
"There was no sense about how you felt about the dance, or the band members. The interview with the band was supposed to be the focal point of the story, but you relegated it to the background, and you didn't write anything that couldn't be found in a press release from a public relations firm. There were no personal feelings."
Tokiwa's hands left her lap and began to flutter like birds in the air between them as she spoke. "But I thought a good reporter was supposed to be objective. I thought we weren't supposed to be biased or show our feelings. Besides, I didn't want to write about how I felt about the band, or it would have ruined the whole story." Her hands dropped into her lap and she looked away. "I'm sorry, I said more than I meant to. I was afraid I'd do that in the article too."
"The point of a personal interview is to give a true sense of the person being interviewed. You are allowed to draw conclusions, Tokiwa-kun."
Tokiwa kept looking at the floor.
"Tokiwa-kun?" Concerned now, Izumi kept his voice soft so the other students in the room couldn't hear. "Did something happen during the interview? Did they hurt you?"
Her chin shot up and her hands did too, fingers splayed as if trying to stop him from speaking anymore. "No! No, nothing like that. None of them touched me. It's just the way they were looking at me. Like I was something they'd like to eat. I felt like a rabbit among wolves, and even though they answered all my questions I felt like they were laughing at me the whole time. I didn't like it. I didn't like them."
"Ah." Izumi didn't know what to say. Tokiwa sounded like she was scared of the Rascals. "If Matsudairo ever wants another interview with them. I'll do it, I promise," he told her. Tokiwa was Matsudairo's cousin, and he looked out for her. Izumi found he'd become protective as well.
His words seemed to reassure her, because she thanked him, gave him a brilliant smile and went back to her own desk area.
Friday after school Izumi dropped Hitomi off at her house. Her parents were already gone, and she seemed anxious to go and get packed.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow at your aunt's house for the concert, OK?"
"Yes, yes. Do you have the paper I gave you with her work and home numbers? And her address?"
"Yes." Izumi patted his uniform pocket. "It's right here." Hitomi sounded as if she thought he'd lost it.
She smiled and turned to go. "I'll see you tomorrow then, for the concert."
"Tomorrow," Izumi agreed, got in his car and drove off. He was almost all the way home when he remembered he forgot to loan Hitomi his math book. He'd already finished the weekend assignment, and she'd dropped her math book in a puddle yesterday. It seemed to be raining more and more lately.
Turning his car around, he made it back to her street in fifteen minutes, but the sidewalk in front of her house already had cars and a motorcycle parked in front of it, so he pulled around a side street to park.
Math book in hand, he walked up to the door. The air was hot and humid. Hitomi had opened the front window, and her voice came through it clearly as he came towards the door. At first he thought she was talking to someone on the phone, but then another voice, a male voice, answered her.
"My boyfriend? You mean Izumi? What about him?"
"How did a girl like you ever wind up with him?" The voice was low, familiar. Izumi placed it immediately. It was the lead singer from the Rascals, the one with the shaggy hair. He glanced back towards the street at the motorcycle he'd never seen in the neighborhood before.
Izumi took another step towards the door, intending to knock and get the guy to leave. Hitomi was so sweet and innocent, she didn't realize the danger she was in, alone in the house without her parents around with a wannabe rock star.
Hitomi laughed. "Can't you guess? It's his car. It's so cool! The minute I saw it I knew I wanted to be his girlfriend. Besides, all the other girls on the tennis team have boyfriends, so I wanted one too."
She made it sound as if a boyfriend were a fashion accessory like a new style of purse, or a bracelet.
Izumi froze as Hitomi went on.
"Don't be jealous. He's nothing like you."
"I didn't think so," the boy said complacently. "No one is like me. I just don't like to share. Break it off with him."
"But then I won't be able to ride in his car anymore," Hitomi said poutingly.
"Break it off with him." The boy said it again, demandingly.
"Oh, alright, but you'd better make it up to me."
The boy made a growling noise. Hitomi giggled, then the unmistakable sounds of two people making out came through the window.
Izumi took a step back, then another, and then he found himself at his car, his hand moving automatically to unlock it. He tossed the math book on the passenger seat and got in.
He felt numb. It was as if all his emotions had turned off. He forced himself to think logically. Hitomi didn't want to be his girlfriend anymore, didn't want to see him anymore. Dimly, he knew that fact would cause wrenching pain soon, but for now it was simply a fact. Facts needed to be acted on.
He turned the key in the ignition and drove to the nearest payphone.
Taking the paper with Hitomi's aunt's information on it out of his pocket, he found her work number and dialed it.
"May I speak with Ritsuka-san please?"
"Who may I say is calling?"
"Izumi Watanabe. It's about her niece."
"One moment, please."
After considerably more than a minute, Ritsuka came on the line.
Izumi stared out at the busy street through the glass of the phone booth.
"This is Ritsuka."
"Hello. My name is Izumi. I was supposed to take Hitomi to a concert tomorrow. I won't be able to. Would you please pass on the message?"
"Of course, but why not call her home number and tell her yourself? I'm not supposed to meet her until late tonight."
So Hitomi lied to him. On top of everything else, she'd lied so she could spend time with her new boyfriend instead of him.
"Please just give her the message." Izumi said, and hung up.
The paper with Ritsuka's phone numbers and address on it was lying on the metal shelf where the booth's phone book lay. Izumi took the paper and carefully ripped in halves, quarters, and eights, then scattered the pieces all over the phone booth floor.
He got back into his car and drove around Tokyo for hours, just aimlessly following the traffic through rush hour and beyond.
When he got home, the servants were gone and on the table in the foyer was a note left for him by his father. It said that Father was going to be in Nagasaki on business and left the address and phone number of the hotel where he was staying.
Everyone left him. Everyone. Even Father, the one person left in the world who Izumi wanted to please, was never around when he needed him.
He trudged to his room and lay down on the bed.
He had all of Saturday to try to figure out what he'd done wrong. He went over and over it, and couldn't think of anything he'd done to make Hitomi hate him. He'd tried so hard to be a good boyfriend to her. He took care of her, brought her to and from school, gave her little gifts, and did everything that you were supposed to do as a boyfriend. So what went wrong? Why had he failed? There must be something he'd left undone, something he could fix if he only worked harder at it.
The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach started the moment he woke up and wouldn't leave him all day long. He couldn't seem to stop thinking of Hitomi's betrayal. It consumed him. He couldn't concentrate on homework, or anything else. The servants had the day off, so there was no one to talk to. Daylight came and went.
It was dark out. Izumi looked at the clock. If the world were back to normal, he'd have picked up Hitomi and taken her to the concert by now. If things were the same as they were just last week, she'd be happy to see him. How could things change so much in the space of a week? He didn't understand it, and he needed to.
Grabbing his car keys, he left the house and drove to the concert. He knew she'd be there.
The concert was over by the time he got to the restaurant. A light rain was beginning to fall. People were streaming out to their cars in the parking lot, anxious to get home before it started to pour. So many people were trying to get out of the lot that he figured it was impossible to pull in so he drove around back.
There was a van parked by the back exit. The band members were walking toward it dressed in their ridiculous outfits, and carrying equipment. Well, most of the band members were carrying things, but not the lead singer. Izumi saw him walking toward the van with his arm around Hitomi's shoulders.
At first Izumi thought it was some other girl. Hitomi wasn't dressed like she usually was. He'd never seen her showing that much skin before, not even in her tennis uniform. She'd dressed that way for the singer, cheapened herself for him. A huge cleansing burst of rage swept through Izumi.
He jumped out of the car and stalked over to them.
"Hitomi! What are you doing with him? You said you were my girlfriend. You said you liked me. Was that a lie?"
Hitomi's mouth opened and shut like a fish's mouth. For once she was wordless. The lead singer just stopped and narrowed his eyes. The other band members put down their equipment and circled the spot where Izumi was confronting Hitomi and her new boyfriend.
"Was it a lie?" shouted Izumi when Hitomi didn't answer. She gulped and tried to pull her low-cut top up a bit. The movement just enraged Izumi even more.
"Why are you here with him? Why are you dressed like a whore?"
"Hey, no one talks to my woman that way." The singer dropped his arm from Hitomi and stepped forward. Izumi almost laughed at the melodramatic phrase.
"Why not call her what she is?" he quipped, appalled at himself even as the words were leaving his mouth. He wanted to hurt her the way she'd hurt him, but hadn't wanted to go that far. Shocked at himself, he didn't react in time when the singer threw his first punch.
Pain exploded along Izumi's chin. He staggered back, and hadn't recovered when the singer stepped in and buried his fist in Izumi's gut.
Coughing, Izumi fell to the pavement, and curled into a ball as other blows, this time from the feet of the other band members, rained down on him. It went on for what seemed like forever. At one point he thought he heard Hitomi objecting, but the lead singer told her, "Hey, he insulted you. He deserves a lesson."
Finally they tired of kicking him. Izumi heard them walking back to their equipment. He raised his head and through eyes blurry with blood he saw their figures walking away.
"Hitomi, why?" he whispered. "It isn't fair."
A large shadow knelt down and focused into the band's drummer. Izumi's neck strained as the larger boy grabbed him by the hair and forced his head up. Izumi could smell the liquor on his breath. "Hey, weren't you at our concert? You didn't listen so good. Our signature song is 'Love Ain't Fair'."
He dropped his grip and Izumi's head bounced back on the ground. The drummer walked away laughing uproariously, as if he'd made the funniest joke in the world.
Izumi's vision blurred and blackened to nothing.
He woke up later, still curled in a ball on the wet pavement. Puddles had formed in the cracked and uneven areas of the alleyway behind the restaurant. He'd been unconscious for hours. It was nearly dawn.
Every movement hurt, but Izumi managed to stagger to his feet and make it to his car. He realized that at least one of his ribs were broken. He'd heard the crack when the drummer first kicked him in the side, and it hurt there. It hurt a lot. In the rearview mirror he saw that he had a cut above one eyebrow and a bruise along his jaw. He knew that when he got home he'd find more bruises under his clothing.
He drove home and fell into bed, Hitomi's name on his lips.
o-o-o
Dawn came in the inexorable way it always did. Izumi dragged himself to the bathroom and cleaned up as best he could. A band-aid covered the cut on his forehead, but he couldn't do much about the bruise on his jaw. His side felt like it was on fire, but he knew there wasn't much that could be done about a broken rib.
It was nearly 7:00 in the morning, and he was alone again.
Had it hurt Father this much when he realized Momma didn't love him? Was that why he'd married someone he didn't love just so he wouldn't hurt this much again?
If there had been a distance between Izumi and Father before Suzuya, it had doubled afterward, and Izumi knew that part of it was because he hadn't quite forgiven Father for saying the words that sent Suzuya rushing out of the apartment and into oncoming traffic.
Now Izumi and Father had something in common. Finally they could talk, really talk.
Izumi grabbed the note father left behind and dialed the hotel in Nagasaki. Father was always up early. The hotel desk clerk patched him through without objection once he found out Izumi was Izumi Watanabe senior's son.
"Hello?"
Izumi froze, phone in hand. It was a woman's voice, not Father at all.
"Hello?" she said again, sounding irritated this time.
"Hello, is Mr. Watanabe there?" asked Izumi tonelessly. Maybe there was some mistake. Maybe the hotel had patched him through to the wrong room. Father wouldn't go away for the weekend with some woman and lie about it to Izumi.
"Yes, hold on please, I'll get him."
Izumi hung up the phone and stared at it for a long time.
Why would Father want to talk to him? He never had before. Father had some woman to talk to, a woman who was in his room at 7:00 in the morning.
Izumi was still reeling from that when another thought struck him. Maybe Father had gone to hotels with strange women while Momma was still married to him. Maybe Momma hadn't been completely in the wrong when she'd left.
Momma.
She didn't call or write him any more, but she was still his mother.
Izumi walked into father's den and opened his desk drawer. There was the credit card he left for emergencies. Izumi had the same first name as his father. He also had a valid passport and dual citizenship for both America and Japan since he'd actually been born in America. He hadn't been back to the country of his birth since he was three years old. It was time to go visit his mother. There was nothing for him here in Japan.
It only took a few minutes to pack a small bag. Izumi called the airline, booked a ticket on a flight to New York, and walked out of the house without a backward glance. As he paused to lock the door, he heard the phone start ringing.
Turning away, he let it ring. It probably wasn't for him anyway.
o-o-o
Across town, Tokiwa set the phone down and turned to face her cousin.
"He isn't answering," she told him.
Matsudairo sighed. "Maybe he's gone out for a walk. He probably just needs time. According to my sources, he only found out yesterday that Hitomi's been two timing him."
"I just have a bad feeling about this. I want to talk to him." Tokiwa let her glasses slide down her nose without bothering to push them back up.
Matsudairo grimaced, walked over to her and gave her a hug. "Cheer up. Eventually he'll come to his senses and realize that you love him. That Hitomi thing was just a passing phase."
Tokiwa sniffed. "You're a really bad liar, Matsudairo."
"That's why I went into the newspaper business. Truth is everything, eh?"
"I guess," Tokiwa mumbled into his shirtfront. "But why does it have to hurt so much?"
o-o-o
Izumi Watanabe senior walked into his hotel room, papers in hand.
"Thank you for coming early, Mrs. Minami. Not many secretaries would put up with such early hours."
"That's alright, Mr. Watanabe. I don't sleep well when I'm away from my husband, so I was up early anyways. Are those the papers you wanted typed before your 9:00 meeting?"
"Yes. Here you are." He handed them across the little table where she'd already set up her portable typewriter.
"Thank you. Oh, and by the way, Mr. Watanabe, you had a phone call."
"A phone call?" he frowned. "Who was it?"
"I don't know, they didn't leave a message. When I said I'd go and get you, he hung up."
Izumi Watanabe shrugged. "It couldn't have been any of my people, we were all in the breakfast meeting in Yoneoka's room. It must not have been important."
Mrs. Minami smiled and got back to her typing.
A/N: I had to make up Izumi's other name since they never seemed to mention it in the anime series. They probably did in the manga, but I haven't had a chance to read it yet so I picked a typical sounding name.