Lolita
By Jia Zhang
Act II
Ritsuka faintly remembers his parents. They were always away, on business and such—sparkling champagne parties on boats, galas in grandeous European hotels, extravagant festivals on the beaches of Cancun. He faintly remembers his mother, with eyes so sharp that they seemed to cut straight through him like amethyst stones. His mother was always cold, he remembers, unforgiving and relentless. Mother always disapproved of him—the younger child, the one that had hands so tiny and small, so incapable of doing anything. She was almost cruel in a way that she'd ignore him purposely. Ritsuka remembers her hands felt like a whip, made of stone and ice, and how her skin was pale and rough, yet soft like cream. Ritsuka does not remember if he ever really had a mother, or just a figure.
Then there was his father, a dull man, a useless man in all respect, except for in business. Ritsuka faintly remembers how much of a specter he was to his father, and how much of a ghost his father was. They rarely ever spoke, and when they did, it was a simple question about school. His father always seemed to hide behind his work, and the world he has created outside of his home. He seemed to have no interest in the life of his family. Ritsuka never really knew his father, though his blood ran through his veins. But what was left of him, Ritsuka was sure that it has all disappeared within a breath.
Ever since he was a child, Ritsuka never really had anyone, except for Seimei—his beloved older brother. He adored him—Seimei who was benevolent, strong, the dreamer, the idealist, yet a man no one could compare to. His brother was much older than him, and understood much more than he ever could. When Seimei went overseas to study in France, he felt so alone and abandoned. There was no one for him to play with—no companion by his side.
And he hated to be alone.
So to Ritsuka, he was glad when his mother and father died—people whom he never loved, and never hated, but only held a simple distaste for them. After all, he never really had any parents to begin with, no body to love him but Seimei.
As a child, Ritsuka always lived within the Aoyagi Estate. He was well informed by his mother that he was not well, so he had to stay well inside the estate, that he was not allowed to go out into the real world. But of course, like every child, Ritsuka rebelled, and ran away into a world he has always wanted to know. However, he was caught too soon, and punished severely by his mother.
With Seimei away, there were not many companions for Ritsuka, but only the daughter of a family servant named Yuiko, a high-spirited girl who was rather on the clumsy side. She was Ritsuka's only playmate for much of his childhood, but even she was forced away, always doing chores and such with her mother in the kitchen, where Ritsuka was forbidden to go to.
When Seimei returned after their parent's death, Ritsuka was ecstatic. He was so happy, to finally have his brother back with him. Seimei, who was patient. Seimei, who was kind. Seimei, whom he loved most of all, and loved him in return. To Ritsuka, Seimei was the only one who ever cared.
So when his brother died, his world turned upside down. Once again, Ritsuka was alone again. This time, he was utterly alone. But it was a long time ago that Ritsuka was a child. It was along time ago that he used to cry. Now, Ritsuka was no longer that Ritsuka. The moment his brother died, he changed—he was no longer the person he used to be. It hurt less to be this Ritsuka, who expected no form of love from anyone. And he was often reminded of that fact—sans amour, his mother used to say.
Ritsuka expected that to be the way it was now.
Sans amour.
Seulement, abandonné, et pour toujours le lolita précieux.
That was the way he will forever expect it to be.
Mais vous êtes aimé.
But then, there appeared before him this man, with his silver hair and blue eyes so deep and magnetic, twin azure crystals gleaming in the pitch-black night sky. He said he was Seimei's old friend—and Ritsuka could believe that, because Seimei had so many friends. But this man, he did not know. He said that in his will, Seimei had left the guardianship of Ritsuka to him, that from today forward he would protect Ritsuka from all the thunderstorms, the windy nights, and the shivering cold waves. He said that his name was Agatsuma Soubi, an artist.
Ritsuka faintly remembers that he was curious, as to whom this person was that his brother left him to. After all, Seimei wouldn't just leave him to anyone, now would he?
The amethyst eyed boy with the dark raven tresses' first impression of the artist was that he was simply rather queer, a Cheshire cat smile lit up his face the moment his eyes laid upon Ritsuka. And the boy remembers that he had never had anyone look at him the way Soubi did—not his mother, not his father, not what little friends he has, not the servants, and certainly not Seimei. There was something about the way that Soubi gazed upon him that made Ritsuka blush—they were eyes that spoke something so completely foreign to Ritsuka, because he was still just a child.
No one as old as Seimei had ever paid as much attention to him as Soubi did. In fact, to the younger Aoyagi sibling, it was rather nice. And Soubi was so kind—devious, a trickster rather like the Piped Piper, a mystery, an enigma, a shadow that if you didn't look hard enough would disappear into a specter of nothingness.
Although, like Seimei, Soubi worked hard to keep the Aoyagi Estate in its best conditions. But he also found vast amounts of time for Ritsuka—more than even his brother ever did. Together, he and Ritsuka would take trips to the museum, and Soubi would tell him of the stories behind those magnificent paintings, the story behind the hues, the blues and the reds. He'd tell him tales of the old legends, the thousands of Trojan ships that attacked Greece all for the beauty of Helene of Troy, the intricate love story of Cleopatra and Mark Anthony, the tragedy of Oedipus, and the great journey of Odysseus. He'd read him old poetry, Shakespeare and his sonnets, the star-crossed love of Romeo and Juliet, and the sweet Midsummer Night's Dream. And together, they'd take long walks in the park, making memories along the water that ran through the grass, and the flowers that bloomed towards the bright morning Sun. Together, they'd take a day off to go see the countryside—sit amongst the Sunflowers, and the grass, and the clouds that morphed into so many different shapes, listening to Chopin on the radio.
And never—never—did Ritsuka have such an opportunity to gaze at the beauty of the world.
But Ritsuka thought, there was nothing more beautiful than Soubi's paintings.
He remembers well, the day that Soubi took him into his studio, to show him a painting he had been working on the moment he had entered into the Aoyagi Estate. It was a painting of him—of Ritsuka, the fateful day the two had met. He was smiling, at the blue and black butterfly that landed upon his shoulder, its wings fluttering about.
It was oddly beautiful.
And Ritsuka remembers well, the moment he turned to Soubi. The man smiled down upon him, with that queer smile that Ritsuka would often see upon his face when they were together. A smile that was brighter than the Sun, simple and tranquil. A smile that made Soubi seem as if he had all of his questions answered.
You're beautiful, he had said.
Mon beau lolita. Mon papillon bleu et noir.Slowly, and gently, Soubi knelt down till he was at eye level with Ritsuka, azure blue staring into deep amethyst. Ritsuka felt the blood rush into his cheeks as Soubi smiled, cupping his cheek and kissing him gently on the lips. It was sweet, and soft, neither demanding nor rushed. And Ritsuka remembered that Soubi tasted like ginger tea.
And Ritsuka remembers well, and would always remember, as he opened his eyes and Soubi leaned away from him. The man had spoke so tenderly.
I love you.
Je t'aime.
And he kissed Ritsuka once more.
End Act II
Author's Note:
oO; Oh my god…what the hell is wrong with me? I feel like I'm writing shota. Then again, Loveless does kinda border on the line of shota. ((sigh)) Well, whatchagonnado? Well, I finally finished the second chapter of Lolita. As you must have noticed by now, the content of this fic is getting a little dangerous, if you can read between the lines. In any case if this fic is taken off of it can still be found on my Live Journal account.Each Actwill also be released either a week or adayearlier on my Live Journal (along with all my other fics). Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter of Lolita. Remember! It will get racier! XD
Sankyuu, and review! ((ducks sharp knives)) Don't hurt me! XD
Jia Zhang
© August, 2005 by Jia Zhang. All rights reserved.