Shooting Stars
Chapter Four: Family Affairs
Author's notes: This chapter seems to have taken on the role of something like a filler before the true insanity of chapter five and beyond. Still, I like it, because Noriko-san (and pocky) make anything happy and thirteen-year-old Eiri-kun is adorable. Tohma's sort of in limbo, but you get to see his emotions developing more with every word. Well, and Ryuichi quoting bad soap operas is just… oh dear.
In other notes… it seems you people know me too well, even the ones I've never met before. You realize, of course, that bribing me with a Kuma plushie is the surefire way to get me to do whatever you say, ne? Ne? Anyone who actually makes me one has a lifelong worshipful servant :sweatdrop:
Thank you for reviews! Keep reviewing!
Disclaimer: I still don't own anyone you recognize. However, the muffins Akane-chan burned in the last chapter belong to my little sister Sasha, who really did try to make muffins in the microwave in a plastic container a week ago… :sniff: Yes, it still sort of smells.
It took some considerable time to convince Ryuichi-san that not only did we not have upset stomachs, but neither of us had caught Kumagoro's mysterious ailment and were not now in need of bunny medicine (whatever that was). By the time Ryuichi-san was calmed, the older girls (and Kumagoro) were in the next room playing a very noisy game, Midori-chan had fallen asleep in Noriko-san's lap and Kiriko-chan, to my slight discomfort, was nodding off in mine. To my great surprise, I found I was enjoying myself anyway. Something about Ryuichi-san was completely refreshing, maybe because he was the complete antithesis of the cool, impersonal people I had grown up around.
"You're a fantastic singer, Ryu-chan," Noriko-san said, absently hitting a few tinny notes on the toy piano, playing with one of the melodies we had put together the week before.
Ryuichi-san beamed. "Ryu-chan loves to sing!" he proclaimed. "Ryu-chan loves to sing more than anything in the world except Rie-chan and Akane-chan and Kiriko-chan and Midori-chan! And Kumagoro," he added. "Singing makes Ryu-chan feel happy and shiny shiny!"
Despite the odd wording, his meaning and the emotions behind it were very clear. He beamed at me. "Just like playing the piano makes Tohma happy and shiny shiny! Shiny! Right?" I wondered if anything could be that shiny, but I nodded anyway. "And Noriko-chan too!" Ryuichi-san continued blithely. "But Noriko-chan is always shiny!"
I suppressed a very impolite snort. "Exceedingly," I agreed.
"Why does your… face change when you sing?" Noriko-san asked at last. "I mean, you look different." That was the question I had not dared to ask, not quite sure how to word it. The personality change had been more than a little eerie.
"Different?" Ryuichi-san repeated, looking confused. Then his eyes cleared up. "Oh! Well, the words aren't happy, so if I look happy, I look wrong, right?" he said. "You see people on TV, and they look so sad when they're talking to each other, like, 'Oh, Hiei-san, how could you leave me!'" he suddenly cried out. "And then the girl bursts into tears! And the mean man hugs her and she's crying and it's raining and she looks so sad! You know that one, right Tohma?" I looked at him dumbly, knowing the number of such shows ranked at least in the hundreds. "But really, she's happy and shiny on the inside! It's just, it would look wrong if she showed it on her face. Right?"
It took me a moment to digest the fact that the unbelievable presence I had felt from his singing had developed from watching second-rate soap operas. "So… you're acting?" I asked. "I mean… pretending?"
Ryuichi-san nodded happily. "Mhmm! I'm really really god at playing pretend! I play with Kumagoro all the time!"
Of course he did.
"Ryu-chan, would you please, please come play with us Friday night?" Noriko-san said. "Please! Tohma-kun and I could play for you again and you could sing and make lots and lots of people shiny and happy! Everyone would be really happy to meet you!"
Ryuichi-san looked doubtful. "But Kumagoro will be lonely if I-"
I got a bright idea. "Kumagoro is invited too," I quickly added.
I was rewarded with a bright smile from Ryuichi-san. "Oh, he'll be so happy you asked!" he cried. "Kumagoro was beginning to think you didn't like him!"
Noriko-san looked at me like I had lost my mind. Come to think of it, I rather had, but at least I now had a fair idea of how to handle Ryuichi-san's… creative take on reality. "We'd love to have Kumagoro," I said. "I never knew he wanted to go."
"Of course I want to play!" Ryuichi-san responded immediately. "I always want to play with my friends. Let's play another game now."
"I have to go home and feed my… friend," I said firmly, realizing I could be dragged into just about anything if I didn't make this point now. "He's probably hungry."
"Is Eiri-kun still over?" Noriko-san asked, gently stroking Midori-chan's hair.
"I'm putting him on the Shinkansen in two days," I told her. "Uesugi-san won't let him miss more than a week of school." I thought about how likely Eiri-kun was to just run away again if I simply put him on a train unsupervised. "Or maybe I'll just take a day off and drive to Kyoto," I sighed.
"And you say you don't understand how children think," Noriko-san smirked.
"All I have to do is think of you," I told her, smiling sweetly.
"If that was supposed to be an insult, it fell very flat," she informed me.
"Nothing insulting about the truth," I parried.
Ryuichi-san had been looking at each of us in turn, as though he was watching a tennis match, looking more and more distressed. "Are Tohma and Noriko-chan fighting?" he asked.
"No," Noriko was quick to assure him, just as I said, "Maybe."
"You're confusing," Ryuichi-san complained. "Ryu-chan is going to get a headache."
I barely kept in a teasing comment about bunny medicine being the perfect cure.
Noriko-san and I left soon after. As we were walking down the stairs, I remarked, "Well, as long as we can keep him in line, I think you just got your wish." Actually, I was unreasonably excited about playing with Ryuichi-san again. He had such unbelievable energy around him, no matter what he was doing, but it more than doubled when he sang, and was extraordinarily appealing on some basic level, even if it did tire me out. It was the reason I found I enjoyed his company despite the fact that he should have annoyed me.
Noriko-san gave me a sideways look. "Looks like you can keep him in line by yourself just fine. Sometimes even I don't know what to say to him. Where did that come from?"
"Simple," I told her. "I take you, take away the pink hair and suspend any hope at logic."
"There's more to him than meets the eye, you know," she told me, leaning against the side of my car. "He's been raising those kids practically single-handedly for about five years now. He's got to be more together than he seems."
"What about their mother?" I asked. It had seemed a little odd she hadn't come out to greet her guests…
"I don't think that's Ryu-chan's mother," Noriko-san said. "I think that the little ones are his half sisters, and their father must be gone. From what I can gather, their mother's been sick since she had Midori-chan, so Ryu-chan is mother, father, and brother all in one." She grinned. "And not only does he manage it, he manages to enjoy it. Can't always trust what you see."
"You spend a lot of time with him," I told her.
"Just lately. I didn't want to scare Eiri-kun any worse than I already had by showing up at dawn with a box of mochi balls." She patted my cheek. "Why, jealous that Ryu-chan gets your piko piko Noriko-chan all to himself? Don't worry, I still love you."
"Oh, no, not at all. I just want a stuffed bunny too," I said, all seriousness.
Her laughter followed me as I got into my car and headed out to take Eiri-kun to dinner.
Somehow, Noriko-san weaseled her way into my drive to Kyoto on Thursday. "You'll be bored coming back," she pointed out. "And it's a long drive. I doubt Eiri-kun will really care."
She was right; he didn't seem to. He was subdued when I loaded him into the car just past dawn, but he did manage to dredge up a ghost of a smile when Noriko-san sped into the garage on a bicycle with its basket overflowing with bags of snacks and a few cassette tapes. "You need a car," I told her as she slid into the back seat, leaving the front for Eiri-kun. "It can't be less than two hours from here by bicycle."
"The weather's nice," she said flippantly. "Besides, I count on you and Ryu-chan to provide the funds to get me one by next year." She grinned wickedly. "Ne, Tohma-kun? Unless you want to buy me one out of your personal savings now? Oniichan would really kill you then."
I looked back in the rearview mirror as she noisily opened a package of potato chips. "No," I mused, "with the amount of junk you eat, it's better if you ride. Something has to keep you in shape for the stage." She threw a chip at me. "Litter in my car again, and you're out on the road," I warned her. "Walking."
"He's so mean," Noriko-san complained to Eiri-kun. "How do all of you put up with it?"
"He's only this way around you," Eiri-kun countered cheekily, turning around and stealing a chip from her bag. "He says you're a bad influence."
"Terrible," I agreed stoically. "Absolutely awful."
"I'll take that as the compliment it was meant," Noriko-san said. "Tohma-kun's life would be… dreary without me."
"Note that I never asked to be livened up," I pointed out. We drove in laughter.
We stopped in a small town for lunch, which I wisely purchased myself, not trusting Noriko-san to think of nutrition. Eiri-kun seemed relaxed and cheerful, but as we neared Kyoto, became quiet, clutching his duffel bag and looking resigned. To cover his silence and mine (which was habitual) Noriko-san chattered enough for both of us. I was surprised her voice wasn't gone by the time we entered Kyoto, but she barely took the time to breathe.
"I'll get out here," she suddenly said while I stood at a red light, and hopped out of the car. "If you're not here by five, I'll send out the search and rescue team!" she shouted as the light turned green and I was forced to drive away.
Eiri-kun watched the small pink-haired figure wave enthusiastically from the corner. "Will she be all right?" He asked.
"I'm sure she'll have the time of her life and whine to stay a night and sightsee," I told him. "She's pretty much self-sufficient."
"Is this her way of making sure my family doesn't see her?" Eiri-kun asked, mirroring my thoughts. He grinned. "Mikarin might be awfully jealous. We should have taken her."
"Not a good idea," I cut off shortly. "Family is family. Noriko-san was right to go."
"We're not family yet," Eiri-kun said, giving me a look I couldn't read.
"One more year," I said, feeling distinctly uncomfortable with this line of conversation. Following the directions I had memorized this morning I turned right. "Then you'll have one more brother telling you what to do."
Eiri-kun shuddered. "At least Tatsuha isn't old enough to start that yet." He sighed as we pulled into view of the temple. "You won't be as bad as the rest of them, right, Tohma-san?"
I didn't know what answer to give him.
I spent three hours in the Uesugi house, most of it drinking tea and defending Eiri-kun to Uesugi-san and Mika-san, both of whom were displeased with his behavior. "He's only a child," I said, turning my teacup before taking a drink. Mika-san, who had obviously prettied herself up in her best kimono, only sighed and poured more tea.
"He's going to have to learn responsibility sooner than most children his age," Uesugi-san said. "You should understand, Seguchi-san. He's the eldest, and I may not have long to live." He looked in robust good health to me, but I said nothing. "If he's rebellious like this now, I won't be able to control him at all in a few years."
"Why don't you talk to him, Tohma-san?" Mika-san asked, clearly pleased with her idea. "He certainly seems to like and trust you." Probably because I hadn't yet told him to stay quiet and do what he was told. "At least to get him to start going to school instead of skipping out. The only subject he has satisfactory marks in is Japanese."
"I can talk to him about that," I agreed. It was true that I felt more than sympathetic towards Eiri-kun, but that, at least, really had to stop. However miserable he was, failing school was not a reasonable way to deal with it. "He should pass his high school entrance exams, of course."
Uesugi-san beamed as though I had magically solved all of his problems. "There would be no problem if you could only get the child to do as he's told," he said, as though this was a certain thing. "I will not have him growing up like the youth of today. This family, as I'm sure you understand, is grounded in tradition."
"Of course," I repeated.
I did get a chance to talk to Eiri-kun right before I had to leave to meet Noriko-san. He listened to me with a frown, but at least he was listening. "This will not do, Eiri-kun," I told him sternly. "Even if you don't want to be a monk, failing out of junior high is not the alternative."
He looked perilously close to pouting. "I don't like the others. And class is boring."
I felt my eyes narrow and caught myself very nearly furious, something that had never happened before. "We all had to go through it," I cut him off. "So do you."
He sighed in an all-suffering manner that said all too clearly that I was sounding just like his father.
"Listen," I said, forcefully softening my voice, "I know it's unpleasant. But if you don't at least finish high school, you really will have no choice but to do what your father tells you for the rest of your life. At least learn to stand on your own two feet before you rebel."
"And then it's all right?" he said, challenging.
"Then it's your business," I said, not wanting to give a straight answer to a dangerous question. "Not mine."
Eiri-kun studied me for a moment. "Why are you so different around them and around, oh, say Noriko-san? Or even me?"
"It's a matter of compromise," I told him. It was true; for the past year I had been teetering on the fine line between proper behavior and betrayal of my father's trust. Sooner or later, I knew I would have to step over the line, but I hoped to do it in a way that did not cause too much strife within the family. "Once you've gotten where I am, you'll understand."
"And to get where you are, I have to go to school like a good boy," he grumbled.
"That's right," I said, and stood. "I have to go. Please… call me any time. But don't run away again. I won't be able to be nearly as lenient the next time I find you on my doorstep, and I can't keep fighting your battles if you keep failing." I paused at the door before speaking. "Listen… I'll make you a deal. If you get into a good high school, I'll see what I can do about getting them to let you go study abroad." He looked surprised. "Far away from your father, and somewhere no one will care about your hair color. Are we in agreement?"
For the first time since early that afternoon, I was rewarded with a grin. "Agreed."
"He practically hero-worships you, you know," Noriko-san said after we had exchanged greetings and gotten back into the car. She opened yet another bag of junk food she must have bought at some point during the afternoon. "He doesn't seem like a bad kid."
"Our opinions on well-behaved children will never meet, Noriko-san," I said, steering through jammed roads.
"Whatever your opinion, that's just a normal teenage boy," she insisted. "And he'd do just about anything for you. He didn't complain once today."
"Let's hope he does do what I tell him," I said tensely. "He's going to get himself into a great deal of trouble if he doesn't realize he had better." I slanted a look at her. "And not the kind of trouble you'd approve of, Noriko-san. It would be… much worse than you can imagine if he failed to get into high school. His following or not following in his father's footsteps has nothing to do with it."
She only leaned back in her seat and smiled. "You're only arguing so hard because you like him."
"I am perhaps more sympathetic towards him than I should be," I said. "Which is yet another reason I want a future for him. I'm having a difficult time trying to understand him."
"That's right. Tohma-kun was never a teenage rebel."
"No," I agreed. "Eiri-kun should realize soon that doing what you're told takes a lot less effort. He should save his effort for the things that are really important, instead of rushing into battle over everything."
She only giggled. "Why, Tohma-kun, that almost sounded wise."
"Eat your pocky and be quiet," I told her, but not without affection.
We got back to Tokyo in the small hours of the morning, Noriko-san dozing in the front seat. Whatever I tried, I couldn't rouse her, so I had to carry her up to my apartment and dump her on the couch before dosing myself with espresso, changing my clothing, and leaving for work. By the time I had slogged through what had to be done that day and dumped the rest on one of the secretaries, it was just past noon. I got home in a state of utter exhaustion to discover Noriko-san was still asleep on the couch, blissfully unaware that half a day had gone by.
I shook her shoulder. "I would like to point out to a certain freeloader that a true friend would have arranged lunch," I said. When I knew she was awake, I locked myself in the shower. By the time I was out and dressed, the house smelled like food, and a guilty-looking Noriko was setting miso soup and a cup of tea on the table.
I was surprised; I had been sure she would order out. "Be careful, or I'll become accustomed to you acting domestic," I warned her, sitting at the table. The food was perhaps not the best I had ever eaten, but it felt wonderful not to have to do it myself. "I might make you do this every time you stay here."
"You wouldn't," she disagreed. "You'd realize I could poison you in retaliation. I've been known to do such things in the past." She poured herself a cup of coffee from the pot on the counter.
"I want coffee too," I said, barely stifling a yawn.
"No coffee for you," she said, putting her own cup out of my reach as though I would try to take it. "Eat your soup and go to sleep."
"I have to…" come to think of it, I didn't really remember what I had to do. "I have to do… something. It will come to me." I looked at her pleadingly. "Coffee," I repeated. "Coffee is a necessity if I want to have a job and keep up with you."
"You have to sleep so you can perform tonight," she said severely, and shoved the hateful cup of tea into my hand. "No coffee for you."
"But Noriko-san-"
"No. Ryu-chan is coming tonight. Remember?"
"But I need-"
"Sleep," she finished for me. "You look dead. If you don't get sleep, I'll have to use concealer on your pretty face." She glared at me to back up this threat.
I gave up, ate my soup, drank my tea, and collapsed into bed half-dressed. I was asleep before Noriko-san came in and covered me with a blanket and closed the curtains.
She had been right, damn her. I felt like a new person when I woke up at eight to the sound of my piano being played. It was a melody I had been toying with a few days ago, and far from complete. Noriko-san must have been playing from my initial scribbles.
I wandered out into the living room to discover she was dressed in something that might have been a dress before it lost half of its fabric with her hair loose and curly around her face. She grinned, continuing to play. "Good morning!" she said.
"It's eight in the evening," I pointed out, leaning against the piano.
"I couldn't tell from looking at you," she parried. "Your shirt is all wrinkled and your hair looks like a bird's nest. You'll need to change." She came to the end of what I had written and frowned. "This one will be really good. We should finish it soon."
"It needs work," I told her. I looked out of the window at the darkening sky. "I can't believe you let me sleep half the day."
"I was just returning the favor," she said. "There's pizza in the kitchen if you want it, and coffee." Clearly, her domesticity had been short lived and she had had dinner delivered. "Wear something colorful!" she called after me as I headed for the kitchen.
As if I owned anything that wasn't, anymore.
Once I had eaten, she pulled out a bottle of gel and began doing things to my hair, to my great chagrin. "Is my hair next?" I asked her. "Are you going to make me dye it pink too? Or shave it?"
"No," she said, looking at me critically. "The blond suits you. I just want you to look a little less like a businessman. It's getting long enough to be stylish now."
"You never fussed with my hair before," I pointed out.
"Today is big for us," she said. "Huge. Trust me."
I couldn't deny that the same thought had occurred to me. Playing for Ryuichi-san's impromptu performance had been nothing short of enlightening. Imagining what we could do if all three of us were on the stage together was dizzying. There really was something very nearly magical about him. "We're playing for the same crowd we've played for for years," I pointed out, trying to sound indifferent.
"But today we're playing with Ryu-chan." She looked over her handiwork, then nodded and handed me the latest in a line of black hats. "This should do it."
"Even if we are singing with Ryuichi-san, everyone has certainly seen my hair before," I said, but I put the hat on. I had developed rather a fondness for hats.
"And you're every bit as excited as I am," she said cheerfully, zipping up her tall boots. I picked up my car keys from the end table by the door, but she caught the slight widening of my eyes in surprise. "I can read you by now. You just don't like showing your excitement."
I relaxed and smiled. "If I wasn't looking forward to playing with you tonight, I would have already kicked out of my house," I pointed out.
"Exactly," she said. "He's really something, isn't he, Tohma-kun?"
"Yes," I agreed, telling the absolute truth. "I've never seen anything like it before." I picked up the leather folder I had taken to carrying sheet music in.
She tucked her arm into mine as we left the apartment and headed for an elevator. "Me neither," she said. "It's stunning."
"Yes," I agreed again. "My business sense tells me that between our songs and Ryuichi-san's voice, there is an extremely marketable product." She grinned up at me. "At least, if Ryuichi-san himself decides he likes singing for an audience."
Noriko-san burst out laughing. "Once he gets a taste of it, the only way to get him to stop will be to pry the microphone out of his cold, dead fingers."
"It's times like these when I find it reassuring that you are so frequently right." I opened the door of the car for her. "At least, when it comes to human nature."
"Frequently?" she asked, slipping into the passenger side. "Please, be honest. I'm always right."
"And stunningly modest," I said, coming around and getting in on my side. I turned the key and started the car.
"Well, you can keep your business sense," she said. "That's not my forte. But my heart tells me that even without business, we've found something special. It's not business that makes my music. It's not just business for you, either." With a carefree laugh, Noriko-san rolled her window all the way down and closed her eyes as the wind picked up with the speed of the car and the radio, turned up almost painfully loud, pounded. "It's going to be a beautiful night, Tohma-kun," she sang out, pitching her voice loud enough to be heard over the music.
