OOOOOOH I'M BACCCKKKK! My internet was down and now that its back and you haven't had a chapter since God knows when you get TWO! I'm so very wonderful now…ahem
Anyways this is a semi-birthday present for my sister and jo-chan HAPPY BIRTHDAY KIDDIES!
Chapter 5
Metaphor for a missing moment,
Pulling into your imperfect circle
Perfect Circle-Orestes
He was proud of his work; honestly, ha…it's funny when you're lying to yourself while saying 'honestly'. Yeah, yeah he was freakin' hilarious, cracked himself up all the time. But seriously he knew that it was all going to catch up with him in time, he just hadn't expected it to be so soon. He was hoping on a few more years so that he could get laid a few more times, attempt bungee jumping and plan on way he was going to disfigure his idiot father for good. I mean truly how much does one have to travel, if he seriously wanted to leave him and his self-professed assistant, he'd have no qualms about helping the man. Which meant shipping his father off to some well-to-do, hard-justice-system country like Singapore, maybe then all his con artist ways would end. His mind wandered back to the little stunt he pulled today, it seemed that such fatherly traits wore off on sons, so then again maybe not.
It also seemed (to him at least) that the sins of said father had certain repercussions that the son had to bear. But maybe that was just karma coming to bite him back in the ass for all the people he had snipped. Someone should have warned him, because "karma" definitely had sharp teeth, and its bite was infinitely worse than its bark. He was however hoping he would bleed to death from that instead of wither away in pain, but it was apparent that wasn't happening anytime soon. Thus he would have to be content—as content as one could be in his position—because there was nothing that could change the simple fact, which was he could very possibly be dead by the end of the school. Why was that? It was because his only chance of survival was buried six feet under the earth and was well on her way to decomposing…but that's just the way the world worked wasn't it?
——————————————————————————————————————
The first snowfall of the year happened sometime around New Years Day, and thus Van couldn't entirely comprehend why this was called the first snow fall of the year. First snow of the season was out too since the wonderfully white change of time ended in late March that year, the whole process just started up all over again. Maybe that was why he liked winter so much…it never really ended, unlike everything else. The biting cold would dissipate for a while swirling into the warm air as if it was never genuinely there, and then leak its way back into the atmosphere catching everyone unawares and off guard, in melting cover. Winter reminded him of people; they either started or finished a year. But much more than that humanity liked to cover their faults with the pretense of goodness, the pristine white snow that slowly melted away that gave you glimpse of the world's ugliness. Perhaps that was the reason winter was loved and hated all at the same time, it showed a perfect comparison to the great species.
That onyx haired young man was wondering why he was being so contemplative today, nothing special had happened and the future wasn't looking very promising, for the future held Christmas. Oh sure he was ecstatic for all the kids who got to celebrate it with their families, they deserved it, everyone should be happy on the "wondrous" day but even though he was going to have a multitude of guests around him at his new residency (he really hadn't taking to call it home just yet) he knew he would be all alone. It was his fate, he didn't pity himself, he was simply mulling over the truth, because one does have to prepare. Maybe he should stack up on saltine crackers: choirs, mistletoe, turkey and many visitors were bound to bring up many unwanted memories. Perhaps he should start his own tradition too, it would be a helluva lot easier than trying to participate in the old ones.
Sneakers continued to trudge as white patterns battled the stirring wind attempting to land placidly on the gum tainted concrete. They were little warriors who hid the dastardly blemishes of the world. And the little bits of cottony ice pooled in his hair, while he slumped along never once giving thought to the road he was crossing. "Hey Locker Boy watch where you're going!" she called out to him from a rolled down mirror. She swore that one of these days he was going to be crushed for lack of attention. Hopefully if no one got around to it she'd get to do it herself, he was being particularly moody lately (sometimes she thought he had PMS). Looking at him through the mirror of her car which seemed to sprouting the evil white flakes from hell that made driving a fearsome thing, she nearly wanted to retract that previous thought. (Notice it was nearly, not absolute. He was being way too testy for absolute.)
Goddammit though, sad Van was making her lips quiver and her eyes water dramatically, it was making her heart so compassionate that she almost wanted to just jump out of her warm Volkswagen in wrap his depressed little body in a bear, then take him home and feed him. She even almost "awed" him. Almost, however she slapped herself upside the head and began to think clearly, without motherly estrogen pounding through her. Then she became angry, what was the problem with him anyways? Whenever she saw him he was semi-brood-sulking, head partly down, determinedly strong but weak-hearted striding trudge that he moved across the earth with. It confused her; she couldn't tell if he was angry at the world, or upset that he still had to be, and was, apart of it.
He didn't give her the time of day, just kept on moving (like the real trooper he was) ignoring her voice, ignoring her…like all the other times she had come across him. Today, however she was going to be as stubborn as him, she was not going to be brushed off, she was going to get him to cheer up. He didn't deserve to be secluded, especially at Christmas, no one did. She waited as he crossed the street, quickly, smoothly, efficiently…looking like a monk in some secret divine prayer that only he knew. Following him, she slid into a spot that was empty beside the string of stores the filled the area. "Hey Van!" she was dismissed silently again, he was so difficult sometimes (more like all the time but…whatever). Sighing she got out of the car, she had not a clue in vastness of her own mind what was persuading her to do all of this. It was a curious thing, but she had never been so persistent in her life about having someone to befriend, or even consider a pleasant acquaintance. But it was there all the same, some unknown driving force that, even if it was against her will forced her to move forward without worry of the consequences which she would have to face herself.
Harassed by the cold air that simply hung about, floating without any real purpose through the atmosphere, Hitomi shivered, the harsh feeling reminded her of Van. Pulling her purple coat tighter to her chest, she was thankful for its inward fleece that seemed to rebuke the traces of cool wisps of wind that gathered around her, as if searching for her own warmth. Jogging up to his fleeing figure (well it did look like he was running away) she placed a hand on his shoulder, "Jeez, why can't you just answer me when I call you?" she questioned as he spun around and—holyfreakingmaryandthefuckingsaints his eyes weren't wearing their half mask of hair, which was matted away at the sides from the chilling fluff. Where the hell had he gotten eyes that looked like that? Was he some special breed of man that was supposed to have such eyes that their sole goal was to churn a girl's insides until it became mush, make her weak kneed, and mad with complete jealousy! If so she hoped that there was a kind version of such species, who she wanted to meet. (Every time she glimpsed them they brought some new feeling to her, and now that they were presented raw…well she was ready to die and go to heaven)
"What do you want now? Can't you just be content in leaving me alone?" is what he groaned, however Hitomi didn't hear it. She was busy staring. At him, at his eyes, they were just so…so…vibrant, so utterly lurid, and the fact that it was so bright outside—despite the dusting snow—made them glow with a vividness that was clearer than the sparkling glass. She was so busy being captivated by them that she didn't even notice, that Van had realized she was staring, and the proximity was causing the skin to redden at Van's cheeks. He couldn't remember the last time he blushed…not even with Merle, which infuriated him.
Who was she to cause such an odd plight to fall on him…him. The sky must be falling because not only was his face, but every part of him tingled from a raving, pulsating heat. Starting from the center of his head, he could feel it pound in time with his heartbeat, then in a rush crashed to his toes, only to start all over again. This was one of the main reason's he avoided her, she made him so aware of all his bodily functions, so aware of the "going ons" around him, although he would much rather have them all go away. You must understand whenever she was around he could feel his very existence twitch and then BAM the world would come into a sharper than natural. It was frightening, especially for someone who spent most of their time observing, yet hidden in their thoughts.
She saw him jerk back slightly, only for a moment, and then she realized that she hadn't answered him, and what was worse she had been openly staring. Well, it wasn't her fault entirely, it was just that she had never seriously noticed his eyes before (even when she was dancing with him it was dim), if she had she would have been used to them by now and thus there would be no need for staring…or gaping. She sincerely hoped she wasn't doing that too. Trying to decide what to say without further humiliating herself, she decided on a huff with a voice that portrayed annoyance and hopefully nothing else grabbed his arm and tugged him along with a sneered, "Oh just come."
Dodging the cars which he was sure to be slammed into since Miss Nosy was too busy grumbling about one thing or another to be concerned with his well-being, he stared at her confusedly. What was so important that she had to not only drag, but also—ouch stupid girl—throw him into the passenger side of her car? He continued to look at her, perplexity showing on his features, as she proceeded in stomping around to the driver's side and placed the key in the ignition. She breathed a heavy puff of cool air—like they did in the movies before a long winded speech was about to formulate out of the oxygen surrounding them—and Van braced himself for an onslaught of…whatever she was rehearsing and about to say.
"Where do you want to go?" one of the least complex questions he had ever been asked, and it stunned him a bit.
"Why were you staring at me?" it leapt out before he had a chance to edit his mind and he wished he could claw it away from the receptors in her eardrums, because the blush that was almost as rare on Van's face shifted its way to Hitomi in a flash of bright red, the colour of her discomfiture. Van was pretty sure the same blemish would have occurred on his face if once for the day didn't suffice.
As she moved out of her parking space she grew quiet for a moment, crawling along at the speed limit she stopped at the light and replied with something that Van was almost certain she would never say to him. "I'm sorry, now where can I take you?" she sighed. It was smooth, with an unsettling resignation that Van wasn't used to hearing from Hitomi. What was wrong with her, upon glancing he noticed that there was something that was missing. From her face, from her face, from her pants which seemed looser than natural. There was something wrong.
But even with that Van would be Van, and Van—with the exception of that one dance—wasn't exactly civil to the girl with honey hair, which looked thinner than usual. "Why?" it was gruff, and as cold as the weather on the external side of her car. But for the first moment of her life Hitomi didn't take offence instead she decided to explain herself.
"Look buddy, I've never done a thing to you, but you still hate me. I'm just trying to be nice but fine if you despise me that much you can leave. It's just that no matter how alone you want to be no one deserves to be lonely during Christmas…not even you." The words started off angrily, but then they hushed themselves until nearly a passing wisp of wind it was weird because she came very close to sounding hurt, and Van couldn't even comprehend what she was telling him. He hated mind games, and this, although unintentional, was one of them—no Hitomi was a puzzle in herself. Just when you believe you've got someone figured out to be a sarcastic, smart, and somewhat meddlesome who's sole focus was on academia, most of the time they do something completely against their nature and you're back at square one. Hitomi was the only one in the long history of girls that he knew that he had yet to understand entirely. She was actually giving him a headache, and like a complicated math question, the answer to her was one of the simplest things known to man, but he just couldn't figure it out.
"Van…?" no satirical tone, no cutting after remarks, just patience and a hushed touch of care. Why was she like this? Who had stole the real Hitomi and replaced her with this calmer version of the teenage woman who made his blood stir…then again it was still bubbling, but in a different way. Plus, he was beginning to think that this was all some strange joke (Van has a serious amount of distrust for our wonderful heroine).
"Do you do this often?"
"Well if I saw Celena or Millerna outside in the cold walking somewhere, sure I'd pick them up. But they usually take the bus or drive on days like this," she didn't know why this was relevant, and his lack of response was making her sort of impatient, but she'd take her time and wait. After all he wasn't that fond of her, and driving in the same car as her would need some getting used to.
It was a good enough response and Van believed her, Hitomi didn't seem the type to lie anyways, "Well, I was actually looking for a Christmas present for Merle," he responded eyes halfway closed a soft grin on his face. She loved it when he showed something other than the fiery aloofness that was projected virtually all day. Plus it was cute—yes cute—that he was looking for something for his love interest. She didn't know why Merle hadn't discovered that the person she yearning for, actually liked her back. 'Humans,' she thought amusedly, 'they can never see what was staring at directly in front of them.'
"I know the perfect place!" she informed excitedly (at least her energy was back) and they zoomed off through the snow to a interesting little strip of road, that people rarely took the time to notice.
You can look but you can't touch
I don't think I like you much
Heaven knows what a girl can do
Heaven knows what you've got to prove
"Chid can we please go Christmas shopping? Please, please, please?" Childish voice, childish vocabulary, she was such a complete child sometimes, and god, wasn't that scary? Sure she wasn't what he'd call mature either, but whenever she begged she sounded like a five year old asking her parents to buy her candy or that new Barbie doll…whichever worked. Did he really, honest-to-God-truly want to go shopping with her, to tell you the truth, yes and no. Yes because this Merle, Merle anything that included his best friend from that day in the sand was bound to be fun, an adventure waiting to unfold all he had to do was snatch it and it would be his. No because this was Merle, and being such she would spend hours shopping for the perfect gift and after visiting fifty plus stores, would return to the same store she started in, it was all very infuriating. Besides he already knew who he was going to be helping finding the gift for, considering that also knew Van was a slightly smaller size than him and slightly taller too, she'd have him tailing along like the third wheel of two he knew he was becoming, even when that two consisted of himself and Merle.
"Merle it's the beginning of December, whatever you're looking won't disappear by next week," so matter-of-factly, still he knew that she would think of a way to manipulate that statement because even though she was impervious to it she was good at doing that to his words.
"But alas, ma cherie we have to take part in those dastardly things called exams, and by the second week of this frosty month we'll all be studying with the utmost, undivided attention. Therefore if we start our shopping today then by the second week we shan't have to worry about such things." Incredibly intellectual as always, and she razed his argument to the ground, she should have honestly been on the debate team.
'Be a good friend,' his conscience reprimanded him as he was debating in his own mind whether to say yes or no. It's not like he had anything better to do he was just sitting at home playing random songs on his guitar. But it was the friend part that worried him. How could he be a good friend when he had deciphered so much of himself and not tell her, not warn her. Every look would melt, but every caress would have to be forgotten. He didn't like that part, the part that he would read into every little thing then have to brush it off as nothing. It drove him up the wall of his mind, and still sent electricity through his bone marrow, right at the core.
'Be a good friend,' a good friend would tell her the truth, would tell her everything and anything that mattered. 'Be a good friend…' he muttered to his brain, "What was that?" pretty voice asking a question that he already knew the answers to.
"I said, yes buddy ol' pal of mine," lying straight through his pearly white teeth.
"Oh goodie, it is what I like to hear, darling. See you in a bit darling. Au revoir for now."
A giggle then, "Goodbye Merle, be there with no more than ten minutes to spare," and with the sensed smile she was gone. Click…he hated that sound.
I think I'm paranoid, and complicated
I think I'm paranoid, manipulate it
" Ahh! I love Christmas shopping!" Hitomi proclaimed to the world as she did little spirals on the lonely sidewalk, while sticking her tongue out attempting to catch snowflakes on her tongue. There was a crazy grin plastered to her face…she seemed so much like a child so happy…but he could see it, despite the burst of giggles, and the wild waving at passing cars there was something wrong with tall Miss Kanzaki.
"You must really like Christmas, huh?" it was Van's first attempt at starting a conversation with her instead of an argument.
'Not anymore…', "Sure do!" she exclaimed, proudly. 'Liar, liar pants on fire,' the childhood rhyme sang in her head. Christmas at her house was filled with arguments that were threatening to lead her house into a state of spontaneous combustion. She could actually the fireworks burst in her ear, they were so deafening that all that was left was the colours of Christmas which she learned to hate. She had no idea when it started but sooner rather than later along the line of life, her parents would have their annual string of Christmas Fights. They were so plentiful in number that they even earned themselves a title, and all that was left for her brother and her to do was blast the Christmas music so that it out pounded the throbbing of her parents voices. But sometimes…just sometimes if you listened close enough you could hear the pain threaded through every word, and every once in a while she take down her serious, happy, or sarcastic reserve and let little wet droplets usher her off to la-la land while her and her brother held each other. But that only happened sometimes.
"Hitomi!" he called out again, she had disappeared somewhere inside herself for about two minutes, looking—for a few momentary seconds—as if she was resisting the urge to cry. That Hitomi she went through so many emotions at one time that it was hard to tell what she would be next, yet through it all she was ever so energetic about it.
"Huh? Oh sorry…my mom says I'm a space cadet sometimes…what do you want?"
Van glanced across the road that slowly being hidden beneath glistening crystals of white. There was a man selling cinnamon buns and hot chocolate, and considering the fact that his food always ended up in the sewer most of the time, he really could be content with something fattening and pampering. "I just wanted to know if you were hungry, 'cause there's a person selling buns and hot chocolate over there."
"Oh no it's ok…I had lunch, and a light snack…I'm alright," for some reason, her voice hushed a bit at the mention of food. 'Naughty girl you're lying again…no I'm not I had lunch, then again a granola bar and some water isn't exactly what the world calls "lunch". It's more like breakfast.'
Glancing at his watch Van noticed it had been four and a half hours since the latest lunch could have occurred, "Come on, it's just some hot cocoa…nothing fattening, if you're trying to watch you're figure. Although I think you're too skinny to be doing that."
"You shouldn't talk, you look like a walking toothpick. But fine since you insist I'll just share one with you, I could never finish off a whole one anyways," she retorted somewhat merrily as she stalked away towards the concession stand which was billowing steam, rich mosaic of tints radiating towards them through pearly florescence.
Hitomi whether she liked to admit it or not adored luscious and extremely calorific foods that were filled to the brim with cream or some equally velvety texture. And so as immersed herself in the smell of the food which saturated the crisp air she couldn't help but drool…just a tiny amount however. She would swear to some that the scent alone was enough to bring her to heaven and have her suspended there for a good four or five days. She watched, stomach rumbling in the truthful confession that only the body could tell, as the cocoa filled the paper cup and then was handed to her. The sort of comfort that was brought upon by hot chocolate pooled at her hands and then ran down in long spurts throughout her body, taking her to giddiness…and just imagine, all of this from holding one simple cup, but it seemed it was the little things that made Hitomi smile.
Van glanced at her expression, she looked like the happiest little girl in the world holding tiny cup of liquid. It was like all her problems were diffused into the steam and the wind carried them away. It was cute, and that was his problem. He hated it when Hitomi displayed any sort of emotion other than the typical friendly, bookworm, sarcastic shyness (if that even made sense) and even then he avoided her. When she was off in another world that existed solely in her confusing mind, he had the yearning to bring her back to earth. When she was silent, he had the need to hear her voice…even if it was arguing with him. The smile which was planted there would not be tolerated by him, because he hadn't caused it, so he had to replace it by mild irritation, when she was already flustered about something and came storming towards, a kind gesture to someone else would cause her to smile slightly. He did it all to see her react, so that he could have the same affect on her as she did on him. He didn't try to understand, so God forbid that he ever would because he was unsure of where that would lead, and honestly he wasn't that keen on knowing either. It was just the way their relationship went…if what they had attained together could be called such, to him though it was more like cause and effect. There was always a reason behind what he or she did which was the cause, and the insignificant yet consequential eruptions of emotion or activity was the effect. If only everything was so one-dimensional life would be so easy to deal with.
Yet it seemed that there were factors to Hitomi lounging away in the dark, he was trying to solve a problem without having all the vast and immeasurable amounts of variables that make up a person's character…and all this thinking was making him sound like a math teacher. See what female's did to you: they made you think so deeply about things that you'll in the end confuse yourself even more…which was why he was going to give up and start talking to the blondie again, everything was less complex that way.
"So where are we going anyways?" Van haggled for about the third or fourth time after they had finished the bun and hot chocolate. Hitomi for the past few minutes had been ignoring his questions, probably purposely too because her smirk just kept getting wider every time he pestered for an answer.
"You're really stubborn, you now that?" she grinned glad that her lack of a direct reply was starting to annoy him (hey, he bothered her every day—indirectly of course—she was allowed to pay him back.)
"It's persistence, and you're changing the subject," he challenged. Confounded female if he knew where he was, or at least how to get home he would have done it already, but no, she was even more determined than he was. Like Merle would care if he got her the perfect Christmas present or not…he would care though. Which, to state it plainly, sucked. His 'infatuation' was growing and there was nothing he could do about it, no one he could confide in because as soon as it was laid there, nude and susceptible, he would have to act on it. That's just the way things went for him, plus confiding, thus subsequently trusting people was a very difficult task. People were a bunch of busybodies after all, who seemed to have nothing else to occupy their time with other than mulling over someone else's problems then telling their friend's about such problems so they could muse over them too. By the end of the day, he'd have a whole congregation committed to solving his own goddamned problems. This is why he played it smart and kept to himself. And once again all of the thinking wasn't getting him any closer to discovering where he was going, it was just the babblings of a hormonal teenage guy. Not like he could help it or anything.
"You have to close your eyes now," Hitomi instructed stopping and waiting for him to follow along. He would have to, this was for Merle after all, and it was all or nothing when it came to that girl. Okay so maybe not 'nothing', she swore that Van, if he was asked, would gladly sacrifice himself to some sort of horrific and utterly cruel death if it was only for Merle to be happy—no matter the length of time. Which was a little bit of comfort for her, because she knew that his feelings were returned, (despite the fact he was too dim-witted to notice) if only he could reach out to the rest of the world like that.
"What, why?" was his clever remark, he swore he was beyond genius.
"Haven't you been paying attention? You know what, I don't have time to explain it all again just close you're beau—eyes," she hated her mouth, and the fact that if she didn't censor herself her 'discretion-ization' level, like the heat that was part of the weather, practically banished itself.
"Fine," was all he 'hmph'd' then warily submitted himself to wherever she wanted to take him, he only hoped that she wouldn't throw him in front of an oncoming car in order to rid herself of another minor nuisance. When it involved his wellbeing he wouldn't put anything past her (especially since she found different ways to threaten him for the past months, turning him into a eunuch was high on the list). He hadn't expected her, however, to encase his lengthy and somewhat coarse palmed in her less than dainty, yet incredibly soft one…there was some odd warmth to it but he was too shocked to pay attention.
Oh sure they had touched before, but he blamed that on the drinks he was positive were spiked. Either that or it could be pushed off onto his obedience to Merle and the atmosphere. But this, this was truly bewildering, because as confusing as it was, he could feel her heat soak through his body, infecting it, bacteria scurrying across the plane of his skin and inconveniently sinking in deep until he was sure his body was about to melt down. Until he wasted away converting into a pile of heat that burn its way through the iciness surrounding them. Until he was sure that little ol' Hitomi Kanzaki, who was causing such unexplainable things to happen to him, wouldn't have to worry about his death because a mediocre contact of skin could sear his nerves to a state of such sensitivity that the minimal movement of air could do such tremendous things to his body. She was actually driving him to that unstable state most guys don't speak of but know is there. Foreboding, ominous, and so very tantalizing, and with the way that he could feel their bodies, although clothed, moving against each other…against him, it was wonderful insanity.
She stopped, and he thought he couldn't breathe. Of course that was before she placed her hands—what warm things they were—over his eyes, brushing across his eyelids…oh Lord, she was so warm. He thought her fingers were enough to singe off the hairs that fanned across his cheeks…while sending them into a state of ecstasy. It was amazing as that temperature zipped through his mind causing his brain to shut down for a few moments, traveling through his blood, broiling, bubbling. He wanted it to stop—no he didn't—but it was so toxic, so contagious that all the stubbornness he seemed to possess a few moments ago appeared to die as he inhaled.
He hated this part, the part when—just like when they were dancing (it wasn't his fault he fell for it)—Hitomi would smell all cozy, and fuzzy, like she was one's favourite comforter, in which no matter the time of year, if you wrapped yourself in it you would be so comfortable that it would be a chore to remove it. When one unknowing but long and uncontrollable sniff, would have her scent rolling faster to you than a dead skunk, but unlike that skunk would be so delicious that you'd be compelled to do it again. Then sooner or later you'd end up addicted. And what was this exquisite smell? A mixture of chocolate and cinnamon, it was all natural too. He wondered how she did that, make everything blend together in some crazy fusion that made it so irresistible, it made you wonder why more women didn't smell exactly like that. What was so freakin' special about her that made you want delve in again and again, because one simply could not get enough, the first was never satisfying, but by the time you got to a million and still going strong she would smell like something completely new and you'd have to start all over again. If she really wanted to she could make that same dead skunk smell utterly adorable.
Off he went again with all the words that described something innocent, when Hitomi, with her steamy hands, was far from it. She was a devilish breed of female who understood fully that the males of the world, even the most reserved or cold-hearted, were affected by touch, it was one of their basic ways of communication, (because men haven't exactly evolved very much since cave man days). And as such could do crazy things to them, yet this elite breed pretended not to notice so that they could become the naïve little minxes they were. It would have been yet another conspiracy theory of course if millions of his seniors hadn't unearthed their nasty bit of hidden information, and proved it.
"TA DA!" she declared excitedly removing her hands. She was more evil than he first realized because that word carried it on tiny course of supposedly irrelevant action, but the smallest of things brought with them the whisper of vast out comes, which he would rather not experience with any girl—who wasn't Merle—at the moment. This meant that as long as he spent time with Hitomi it was bound to happen, because before her hands lifted with that exuberant expression, something curious happened to Hitomi's hands. For a piece of what conveyed itself to be both years and a infinitesimal second those digits he would have sworn were glowing elements brushed across his lips.
They fired at the cold skin plate, turning it into a frenzy of lax flesh which for a few moments couldn't remember their function. That plain touch had his mouth dry and the faint outline of an Adam's apple bobbed for a few seconds, unsure of itself, as everything except the receptors in his body nearly shut down. Her hand was so…so…mesmeric across the skin. He was so sure, so entirely confident, that that part of him was dead, then she came along and with one murmur of contact, it was revived with more impact than a defibrillator. His lips were living, breathing objects now and his sudden awareness of them meant that he had to be extra careful that they would not be the demonic creatures he knew they could be, pilfering and rampaging throughout the world of women.
But this touch was only number one, the next was the tips of fingers threading through the front of thick ebony strands. He wanted her to do it again. Wanted to feel her fingers lightly skim across his scalp, while each individual yet wet section of his hair slipped through her interesting hands. The action of cool breath that stirred the goosebumps at the base of his neck accompanied the separation of hair as if her touching him wasn't excruciating enough. The delicious agony shattering through his spinal cord, keeping him in a state of delightful shock as his body strained to stay upright. He only hoped that Hitomi was struggling from the sudden proximity as much as he was.
Poor Hitomi, the drive to help him had perverted her actions and for some reason she found herself touching him. As if his cold magnetism was drawing her in and causing her hands and her body to do such strange things. Yes, it was all his fault, his fault that his chilly being was begging to be warmed by her. His fault that he was the direct opposite of her and at the moment drew her to himself, coaxing ever so sweetly for her join him.
She wanted him to stop, to cut it out, to be warm and cuddly and sweet so that she wouldn't feel so lured, so cajoled into feeling his skin tingle just beneath the fingerprints that coated her odd digits. She wanted to resist the feeling of damp locks that swam over long bony and effeminized fingers, wanted to rebuke the touch of male satin, the skin that protected him from world. She wanted to refuse the smooth consciousness of mouth as her hand unconsciously passed over it, the texture screaming through her skin making her very aware of how enticing it was. And that was just the problem, it's what she wanted to happen, therefore being in the traditional teenage predicament it didn't.
She dropped her hands as quickly as possible hoping, begging, pleading that the embarrassing comment, which she knew was tumbling in, hanging about ever so near, would not force itself across the tongue, and through the ivory gates of teeth. She clenched down hard, making certain sure that that aforementioned gate with gum guards would do its job. She could feel the blood cells pushing up faster, racing up her neck attempting to get her face, scolding them she sent them back to where they belonged, weeping from being rejected. Happy that her complexion was going to stay its regular pastiness that it retained during the winter—not like she cared what colour she was anyways—she opened the aging and elaborately designed oak door by its gold plated doorknob and gently pushed his unresponsive body inside. She was touching him again…
I fall down just to give you a thrill
Prop me up with another pill
If I should fail, if I should fold
I nailed my faith to the sticking pole
"Merle could you be nice enough to help me up?" he sighed exasperatedly. Merle had decided that instead of finding the object of her affection something in the warm, cozy, mall which had heat and solid floors, she preferred to wander the itty-bitty stores that lined the sidewalk. Now he never said he had great—never mind good—balance so when they hit an icy patch it was destined for him to flat on his ass while Merle—with all the grace of cat—waltzed across as if there was nothing there. Then, when she heard the painful thwump he made proceeded in laughing at him, in the middle of the street, lucky for him this part of the street was nearly abandoned.
Sitting on him instead, Merle looked down at his adorable face, cheeks red from the stinging air and warm breath carbon dioxide cloud condensing in the atmosphere, blue eyes shining and she wondered for one reason or another why in the world he didn't have a girlfriend. It was the strangest thing, "Of course I am kind enough but first a question on a personal level, or else you will have to find to become upright while I am sitting on you."
Knitting his eyebrows, then he rolled his eyes and sighed once again, minty gum air swooshing into her face. "God, you and your ridiculous questions…what shall it be this time?"
Giggling she hugged him, boom, boom, boom, heart-hammering sounds filled his ribcage; he had yet to tell her. "Yay, yay, yay! Now, now dearest friend of mine you have yet to explain to me why you don't have a certain love interest. Being your best friend, and what's more being positively female I'm entitled to knowing such things."
Why was there no sense of kindness in fate? Was she just sitting, up wherever she sat, and laughing about what a cruel bitch she could be while tormenting the human race, if so he would have greatly appreciate it if someone had decided to throw her off her pedestal so he could use her as a future piñata. So instead he gathered her in his arms, like he was carrying the bride over the threshold or something else ridiculous like that, and rolling onto his knees stood himself up with her still in his arms. Planting her feet firmly on the ground he pointed out to her laughing figure, "Well I guess now you'll never know," then his own version of a sly smile wandered off in front of her. He wanted to tell her, really truly, deeply, wanted to tell her. But it would have been a failure on his point, it was better she didn't know, because he didn't want to lose any of it. Touches, gestures, that he knew were nothing more than years of friendship and comfort which his mind lingered on, words that he knew were nothing more than mere light jokes, and teases. He was terrified that if he told her it would all just go away, and he didn't want to hurt her. Loved her too much to ever do something like tell her, he wasn't…couldn't be that selfish. Even if he had to watch her, give her away to someone else.
Merle watched him walk away and grinned, one way or another she'd find someone to make him happy, because that's all she wanted for Chid, for him to be delightfully happy.
Van shivered once from the feel of her hand on his back, then forcing himself to ignore her closeness moved one foot in front of the other as he entered what would have been considered Merle's personal haven. If it was old, used, or an antique—despite what it was—it could be found here. The musky yet lemony freshness of polished wood diluted itself through the room, giving it and everything it touched a part of restored history. He wasn't one for looking in the past, since it caused him so much trouble already, but there was sort of quiet vibrancy about the place which truly had him interested in all the small trinkets that his eyes acknowledged.
Staring through a sort of dusty, yet comforting murkiness—as if she was leering into past beneath a the foggy haze of a dream—she stared at all the ancient spectacles that were stuck in their own personal tableaus. Each piece of cloth, metal, or wood spilling a small wedge of stories never archived into the world of the future. Hitomi sighed contentedly, there was something calming about the hardwood floorboards which squeaked and murmured their individual memoirs, and the window—which when the curtains were drawn—displayed the delicates pieces of icicle strays, making their own little colonies on the dirtied pavement and asphalt. The world in this petit store—out of the steel industrial giants of reality's way—resided in a balance that brought tranquility amongst the most distraught or to her at least.
Van began sifting his piano fingers through the fabric of the feeble and continuously alternating, and he begun to realize—because of some woven threads and a few odds and ends—how everything was inevitably left behind. Whether in people's thoughts or through objects that would eventually link one remote person to the next and so on, the little loop that united people together was never through the future, but always through that stringy loop of a barely tangible moment that dictated reactions, and the ultimate mistake.
Jeez, wasn't he feeling especially philosophical today? Maybe that stupid teacher of his (you remember the one older than the noisy floorboards underneath him, the one who launched pounds of saliva at the front row of the class?) was getting to him. Merle would definitely be proud, and despite the comment in his mind brimming with sarcasm he smiled ever so faintly at the thought. Merle be proud of him, it was a delightful little prospect that churned the corners of his thoughts while he searched for something that suited just her and no one else.
She heard Van humming, which, to tell you the truth, almost made her laugh out right, because Van…god Van never did anything even loosely relating to the term hum. Except for that one time when he was singing. And that flash of memory raised the pores in her skin temporarily before settling once more in the boringly normal state. The sound that resonated from his throat then was all bleeding, dreadful, ecstasy. Deep, rich, with a hint of angelic crispness, that ripened in one's eardrums, bursting with some rare fruit, forbidden to taste to hear but so delectable all the same. And his all but happy humming was just an echo, the flutter of demon wings from paradise that tempted and tested, seeing if she would divulge her itsy-bitsy secret. Begging, no pleading with her to disclose her knowledge by just one perfectly lovely compliment.
But Van would perceive it as being a breach in the privacy he struggled so hard to contain. So hard that she and the rest of the school population of the insignificant town of Liberty didn't really know—and most didn't care to know, they thought he was teetering on the brink of being shy…or a bastard—the connection between Merle Hoshino and Van Fanel, nor did they know Van's family status. In fact they knew so little about him that they were clueless as to where he stemmed from in the vast country of Gaea, wondering if he even came from the country at all. Therefore explaining to him how she had heard him play the piano and sing would have certainly thrown the two of them back to square one, which was Hitomi feeling utterly hopeless while Van was satisfied by giving her death glares whenever they came into contact.
Van, unaware that his haunting vocal cords were making any sound at all, ran his hands across the glass that sheltered the twisting veins and little spindles of metals that connected to make necklaces and bracelets, proudly displaying their colourful pendants and charms. They were aligned in an interesting arrangement which for some reason or another made them look exotic, foreign, otherworldly, as if they really weren't from the confines of earth, but mysteriously found nonetheless. As he bent down to get a closer look he could feel his body start to produce the cold heat tracing the fine hairs that lightly layered his whole body, spinning around he gave Hitomi a convicting frown while murmuring, "Stop staring at me, you're scaring me…and come here for a sec."
Glaring at the young man she pulled herself away from embroidered lace and smooth silk, deciding reluctantly to join him. She was 'scaring him' as if he the God of Ice and aloofness could ever be even slightly frightened by anything; it was most likely that beasts of any kind would cower away from such a sour face. Besides it wasn't her fault she was staring; it was all that mystical humming, enthralling, perfectly enchanting, and innocent.
Trudging over to his highness in black and blue she knelt down beside the young man and looked over to him…goddammit he was still humming, and if he wanted her to pay attention to anything other than that sound he was going to have to stop. "What song are you singing?"
"What?" why was it when she asked him questions could he not think of anything vaguely intelligent to say, except of course when they were arguing? And why did he ask himself questions like this when the answer was irrelevant?
"Jeez, can't you pay attention for once? I said what are you singing?" Hey, first he criticized her and now he wasn't even listening, she was permitted (by her standards in the least) to be offended.
"I was singing?" the poor bewildered Van Fanel occasionally—and this is so infrequent that bordered rarely—engaged in certain habits that he normally wouldn't have, because others were present. The peculiar thing was this small habit of his only took place after his parents' deaths. This little lapse of time where he'd be back in the familiar smell of forget-me-not's and spices wafting from his kitchen, whilst his father attempted (and succeeded) in yet again fixing their car, which was probably bought around the same time he was born. And him playing that piano, the one he wanted to burn himself yet couldn't seem to do it. He hated practicing but as soon as his fingers hit the pearly keys—that were plastic because his father refused to support any sort of destruction to animals—his fingers, those skillful demons followed that one simple note with another. The beginning of a melody, until they stumbled accidentally onto another then another, always fingering the sweetest harmonies, he'd surrender then and while his mind ached to do something, anything, else his stupid heart would crumble at the loss of sound. His parents honestly had no clue how excruciating it was for him to play the piano, what he wanted to do was instantly neglected, and all the while his mind was screaming at him to move and ignore the proud music maker, he stayed forever rooted until his hands were sore and his joints were stiff and he had missed all opportunity. Lucky for him that the grand siren was no where near his precious T.V or Nintendo, he'd be in ferociously long battle for a lengthy amount time if that happened.
"Well it was more like humming, but it was pretty, I thought I heard it somewhere before so I was wondering what it was. But never mind, you want to get Merle a necklace or something?" babbling on and on trying to get that suspicious look off his face, it wasn't like she did anything wrong, she was just being absent-mindedly curious, that's all it ever seriously was. Just a tiny pursuit in discovering who Van actually is, because one of these days it was all going to be uncovered, and it might as well be by her who had no intention of spreading such knowledge around the rest of the school.
"That's a nice necklace you got there yourself little lady," a voice softly grumbled, as if it was treading light-footedly over some plane of gravel, warm cream over crunchy glass, and she glanced up over the corner of protective Plexiglas, noticing for the first time the manager of the store. Weathered and bronzed skin coiled inside of itself, probably touching the high cheekbones that were buried underneath, with mellifluous gray-green eyes that faded and stirred when ever the cold light of the outside world grazed them. Not only brittle skin and bones sat there on the plump red swiveling chair—the only item that seemed somewhat out of place, clashing against stocks of history—but also some sort of lost muscle tone hidden below thickened blue flannel filled with stripes that created intersections over barely there skin. Of course she knew someone had to be there guarding this little fort of treasures from the evil creatures that were able to traipse in without much more than an empty wallet, then waltz back out with enough heisted goods to earn them good amounts to fill that wallet back up.
Standing up she snagged the floating pendant between two fingers and grinned, "What this? I just found it lying around my house one day and since no one claimed it…" her smile relaxed itself then becoming peaceful as she stared at the pink tear shaped adornment, her mother told her that it used to be her grandmother's. Grandmother who had tissue paper and silk for skin, Grandmother who hair fell in steady flashes of white with electrically spun silver, Grandmother whose calm voice was enough ease over any argument a modern day and very deceased Jesus Christ, who used "peace be still" but with warmth and cookies. Grandmother, oh-so-very very deceased whose flesh had become a midday snack for all the creepy-crawlies underneath the earth. And alas that god—excuse me goddess—of man left her and her brother all alone to strain their voices in futility, begging for the storm, of rushing voices filled with climatic yet painful thunder, to stop. Grandmother didn't resurrect herself either ensuring Hitomi that she was not all alone, no little comforter had marched to protect them, and no god to strike her parents down for being so noisy or angry. Just her and her brother—who was the only one who stayed—left there to be scraped raw by the scratchy voices of adults.
But what was she complaining about, there were people in a lot more stressful situations, and she was coping just fine. No help needed by a counselor, or those pretty coloured pills that took you higher than cloud nine and lower than the bottomless pits of all that was evil. Then she noticed that something caused an itsy-bitsy glow on the pendant that had caused all this thinking. Barely a glint of light where there shouldn't be any, just a splice that seemed to melt away in the dusky, gray-white radiance. Smiling politely she questioned the store manager, "Excuse me sir but where does that window lead to?"
Van, too preoccupied with attempting to find the perfect gift for Merle, didn't notice when Hitomi slipped behind the counter and spread the curtains wide to reveal a medium sized and particularly excluded courtyard. He like the rest of the world was to busy with their own affairs, their own personal dilemmas, to be worried about the things the magnificence they couldn't see. Unless of course it was brought to their attention. "Hey, Hitomi do you think she'll like this one?" he inquired to the air beside that was full of Hitomi's fragrance but not the tangible girl itself. He looked up and she was standing there in calm awe through the window that no one knew existed to a solitary world that he knew—just had this grand insight you know?—that only he and Hitomi could. You see, because this little world was too much like him forgotten, or ignored, abandoned, no one there to push him along no one to integrate him—it—into the outside world. Just waiting, patiently counting down precious time till someone truly discovered that they were away from the massive throng. And oh-surprise-surprise, it just happened to be the one female who went beyond annoying because when she was around not only did his body tremble from disdain and the sudden astonishment from being violently thrown into reality, but sometimes he found her skulking around in his mind and all because she was the one girl that had yet to piece together. Then as per usual his mind fluttered back to back to Merle, yet he couldn't decide whether he would rather have her there with him rather than Hitomi. One was like soothing acupuncture the other sadistic shock therapy—oh the choices…
Bend me, break me, anyway you need me
All I want is you
Bend me, break me, breaking down is easy
All I want is you
Steal me, feel me, anyway you heal me
"Ahhh glorious substance!" she exclaimed happily, delectable cinnamon pastry filling her senses.
"Carpe crustulorum!" Chid answered in return raising his own bun, in the air like an offering to the snow and clouds above.
"What was that?"
"Latin…means seize the pastry or something like that…"
"And when did you learn how to speak Latin?"
"I never did," he shrugged and then while chewing his food, "I just read it somewhere and I never forgot."
"Well then, indeed," taking a huge bite of her flaky icing covered food and with her mouth full of it she cried, "Carpe crustulorum!" And most of it sprayed all over the floor.
"Nooooo!" all false drama and sadness, "Merle you're wasting all of your bun, no more talking with your mouth open," he scolded as if he was mother, waving finger and all. Then she smearing her lips with icing pressed them unexpectedly into his cheek. The heavens or something equally evil was testing him, pushing him as far as he could go without breaking down and telling her, watching him melt a slightly more and more. He didn't know how much longer he could endure it all without turning into a pile of Chid-goo and let it come spilling all out.
Maim me, take me, you can never change me
Love me, like me, come ahead and fight me
But the simple truth was that Merle would always be Merle, and as such she was naturally affectionate. She communicated through all five of her senses, and although to her it was as innocent as not touching at all but he was about ready to implode. He could have told her not hug him anymore, not to tickle him, just an all hands barred policy but that would have been unfair. That was telling her not to be herself, God he didn't know what was wrong with him, but being close to her was definitely a bad thing. So entirely bad that if something wrong didn't happen soon—as in now soon—he wouldn't be cute, controlled Chid anymore. He'd morph in adolescent guy Chid, the one with the raging hormones, who didn't think before he acted.
Please me, tease me, go ahead and leave me
She skipped off then as if predicting the destruction of her friend, she saw the car blue old BMW and it started, the countdown of time. She had four minutes, two hundred and forty seconds before she could prevent whatever would unravel itself from happening. Two hundred thirty-nine, two hundred thirty-eight, two hundred thirty-seven, she didn't know where she was going, didn't know how long it would take her to get there but she had to move now. Something involving Hitomi Kanzaki, which if she didn't halt in the process, well there was no telling what would eventually unfold. Time was impregnated with an event and the point where there can be abortion—the opportune moment—but it swimming away fast. It would be gone in one hundred seventy-six, one hundred seventy-five, one hundred and seventy-four. Hurry, hurry Merle time was ticking away.
"Is there a door or a way we can get back there," she requested, using that word we as if she knew that Van just had step into that small sanctuary if only to become at least half whole.
Then the manager, of this tiny store that rarely anyone noticed, beamed. Big, bright, and as glorious as the sparkling white outside. He had been waiting, longing, for someone to ask him that question since he became too old, too busy to go out into that crevice and just sit for hours on end and let the world flood by without him caught in the torrents. Kept pleading that eventually someone would open that window and this little world of tranquility would forever be theirs, because if he begged long enough he knew that the right people would come around and he would be content. That grand strip of land had been his for a long time, and if someone didn't find a use for it he would have to sell it off. "Yes there is let me just close this shop and I'll show you."
Tick tock, tick tock, she wasn't going to make it in time. Fifty-three, fifty-two, fifty-one, forty-nine. She was running now, labored breath running in front of her...
Bones didn't creak when he walked but he looked so feeble that Hitomi was sad that she made him move. Putting up the closed sign and drawing the curtains behind it so no one could peek through, he shuffled his way towards him. His face was radiating so much that she could feel his emotion begin to drip off the walls, funneling across the ceiling till gravity interrupted. Drip, drip, drip and she could feel it pool around her feet and wash around her soul, and suddenly she was filled with a state of euphoria, happy that she made him happy. It was so utterly contagious.
Spend all your time waiting for that second chance
For a break that would make it ok
There's always some reason to feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day
Van was the only one who wasn't smiling; he never really did without Merle around after all, but he was suddenly anxious, as if he didn't move quicker the world that should have been his and Hitomi's alone was going to dissolve, melt away and retreat back into the world that was imagination. As if there being there now was so important that the fate which could have been theirs was shrinking itself, becoming non-existent again. And for some reason he knew they wouldn't make it in time, that lapse in time which could have decided the outcome that could have allowed them happiness was too far away, and it was just so disheartening.
Six, five, four, three, two, one, zero. And it was closed, the deal was signed, too late, much too late. And the foreboding feeling that she had was beginning to come upon her again.
Through the old wooden door, beyond the weathered oak frame, down the cement steps, past the weed branches that snagged and decomposing leaves that barely gave their obligatory crunch was a world of vast white and hard cobblestone caged in by the cement bricks of stores. It was beautiful…yet that word felt too cliché too overdone, or perhaps overused to describe the place that was in the process of becoming his new haven. The store owner had left them at the door and together he and honeyed haired teen beside had wandered in like two stray cats looking for a new home—and isn't that ironic? To the left was a bench a steady layer of white icy dust occupying it, while tucked inside the curvy corner that the buildings made closest to the right of the window she had gazed out of was a small fountain with icicles for flowing water. A elaborately decorated structure but was hidden in the overhang of the shadows by the looming wall beside it.
"It's really pretty isn't it?" Hitomi uttered in a whisper, afraid that anything louder would have disturbed the eerie, ageless tranquility that this dimension possessed all by itself.
I need some distraction or a beautiful release
Memories seep from veins
Let me be empty and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight
Van simply nodded, he felt cold and warm all at once, this is where he needed to be, to watch the sun disappear from the graying sky, as it poured glistening patterns over his body. Wrapping him in comfort and a sense of nostalgia, but he was still missing something, something long gone but as close as the snowflake melting on his nose. A mother's touch, a father's instructions on how to build the perfect snowman, brotherly teasing as round packs of snow slammed into his body. All too close to let go, all too far to touch, slosh, slosh, slosh and he knew he was going to be sick. He was going puke all over the crystal white turning it the colour of hot chocolate and half digested pastry, he could feel it coming, knowing that it was hitting his throat where it burned regret, self-hatred, disappointment for not ending up just as dead into his windpipe, then it would leave a sour taste and a rancid smell in his mouth…
So tired of the straight line, that everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back
The storm keeps on twisting, you keep building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack
Hitomi was pulling him along again, her fingertips burning heat into coat straight to his skin, so he swallowed the mess he was about to make, saved all its dirtiness for a rainy day and someone else's jacket. Head spinning because she was humming, he was fighting himself and the reaction that he had to that tune, if mama gave you a mockingbird…so truly unoriginal but his mother had this particular way of singing to it, he heard it in his dreams sometimes when he wasn't dreaming about burning flesh and the screeching call that Death made before he came to claim his holocaust meal. He stumbled, there was no stopping it now, guilt and resentment splattered all over the floor never ending. He wanted it all to go away, leave and never come back his mind yelled, but he heaved, the knot tightened again, and oops there came the blood. No matter though his soul needed a good purging, plus he deserved it didn't he, because he had pissed them off…
It don't make no difference, escape one last time
It's easier to believe
That in this sweet madness, oh this glorious sadness
That brings me to my knees
Hitomi just stood still for a second, unable to comprehend what was happening. It came out of no where, sprung from the depths of him all the way out. He started off by standing over it all but it became so violent that the retching forced him to his knees. Hands and knobby knees, face preparing to kiss the ground and she knelt beside him was about hold him when he interposed, no hissed, an "I'm fine." That moment of "fine-ness" didn't last very long because soon liquid, cranberry coloured, covered the ground beneath him. Instead of throwing back a smart retort, she wiped the hair away from his face while stringing curses together, making them some foreign chant. When he was finished Hitomi although chattering violently, took out some hidden Kleenex from the plastic wrap inside her pocket dabbed it in the snow then melting it with heat of her hands, gave him the makeshift wipe and let him clean his face. When he was finished she buried the vomit and held his shuddering body while feeding him the fresh snow.
He didn't have the strength to protest anymore just let her wrap her toothpick arms around him, cradle him into ease, the acid stung and clean snow struggled to fight back. Snuggle into her soft purple coat and take in her amazing smell, while her overheated hands warmed his hair. For one, for some small space of time Van could have sworn that Hitomi had adorned wings, wings that sheltered and protected, her face meshing with the memory of his mother while taking on Hitomi's individual ethereal quality, that he never knew she possessed. No extra bright light touched him, no inner warmth or peace spread through him, just soft falling of snowflakes and the distant flutter of wings, because in life, there are moments which expound space and time keeping you locked with the most unlikely character. Although everything is not free or good there's an odd contentment which seeps through, and perfection is only a breath away that when you touch it reality sweeps back in leaving you bittersweet and longing, allowing all the angels to fly away to heaven. All but the one you're with.
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of the angel,
May you find some comfort here
Perhaps, just perhaps, they didn't miss what fate had for them at all, maybe they just took the long way around. Hitomi stroked his head again heat filling his pores, and he flinched, her teeth chattering. Looking up from the crook of her neck Van mumbled, "You can get off of me you know…I really don't want whatever you have." Oops maybe so…
"Which is what?" she scowls through rattling bone.
"A fever," and he pulls her up, not caring about the sudden bout of dizziness from vomiting up all the food he had inside of him, leading her towards the door. Then again…
May you find some comfort here…
AN:Thanks for reading, please, PLEASE remember to review and tell me what you thought. See you later!