Disclaimer: (clears throat) Ladies and gentlemen, people and extra
terrestrials, I would simply like to thank you for attending this evening's
Disclaimer. It means a lot to me that you are all aware of how much I DON'T
own Beyblade. In fact, if I have lied to you and DO own it, even though I
DON'T, I shall (whimpers) give myself over to that beastie gang of pigeons!
T'would be a cruel fate! . . . BUT! Fortunately, I DON'T OWN THE SHOW!
MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! ,
Author's Note: Hello folks! It's been a while, but I come with good news! The pigeons have been apprehended and are in custody as we speak! (Pauses for cheering) Now that THAT business has been taken care of, I would simply like to say, thanks for all of your support. The story is coming along slowly but surely, and I hope that you all enjoy this installment. Happy Readings!
'Rei Kon is involved in a murder investigation. Kon Rei is part of an investigation. I am a witness in a murder investigation,' I thought absently.
I shook my head. No, it didn't matter how I worded it, it simply didn't sound right.
I sighed. My emotions were a strange mixture: confusion tossed with depression and sprinkled with anger, dashed with demented excitement and heavily glazed with worry.
With the completion of my self-evaluation, my stomach grumbled unhappily, apparently giving the hint that one, I was hungry and two, I wanted either salad with honey glazed chicken or chicken alfredo with a salad on the side. I glanced perfunctorily at the clock, noting that it was about 5:00 in the evening, and I sighed as I glanced out the window. The clouds, airbrushed in dim pink and purple hues, floated in an endless blue sky. Soon, the blue would melt away like watered down paint on a canvas and give way to the heavenly brilliance of gold, and then, that too would trickle down, and the earth would be left with a sparkling blanket of night.
The thought of night suddenly caused a distressed chill to travel up my spine. I shivered slightly as the hair on my neck rose. The previous night, darkness had seemed exciting and mysterious, a lustful hand stretching outward to encompass my being and offer me spicy secrets that would touch the ears of a select few. However, at the moment, I felt a slight wave of paranoia when I thought of the darkness. The night seemed fell and unforgiving. The silky hand of the previous night had been vanquished and, in its place, were the many, many clawed hands of the deadly unknown scratching at my skin. Their whispered secrets had fallen upon the ears of countless victims that had been swallowed into a jagged obsidian toothed mouth, and digested in the belly of a conspicuous beast.
It was at the end of this procession of thought that I gave going out to eat a second thought. After all, I enjoyed my life very much, and now that I knew about everything, I was beginning to feel as though I was being watched. It was an uncomfortable feeling, for I didn't know whether or not to trust my instincts. As a neko-jin, I could generally trust them to be accurate, but then, I wasn't exactly in a calm, rational state of mind. No, at that particular time, I was fairly certain that if I opened my door all of the evil, scary, psychopathic, sociopath, homicidal villains from every horror movie I'd ever seen would be lined up in the hallway, each with some demented to plan to end my miserable life. Yes, indeed, somehow I managed to piss off every fictional character so bad that they were going to take turns killing me. And here's the real ass kicker. They were all waiting patiently in single file while the guy in front knocked politely on the door.
I gently shook my head. I was being silly. What were the chances that that Lake guy even remembered who I was? Anyway, logic told me that I couldn't spend the rest of my days hiding in my apartment like some sort of hermit. I needed to leave.
So, my mind made up, I grabbed a jacket and my keys, turned off the lights, and left the apartment, making extra sure that the door was locked. Just because I had decided to conquer my fears didn't mean I wasn't going to be cautious.
I traveled the familiar path downstairs to the lobby and smiled easily at the sight of Sam sitting in his usual chair, reading the paper. It was nice to know that my life still had something constant in it. I was a little afraid that everything would begin to turn upside down what with the case and all.
"Hey Sam," I greeted.
Sam lowered his paper and smiled at me, blue eyes twinkling. Little creases, laugh lines, formed around his lips and eyes, always reminding me that in a corrupt world, there were still genuine, good hearted people . . . like Sam.
"Evening, Mr. Kon," he greeted, his tone easy and tenor.
I shook my head. "Rei," I corrected.
His eyes still twinkled in mischief, and he nodded. "Of course, Mr. Kon."
I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, how've you been?" I asked.
Sam shrugged and tipped his hat a little lower over his eyes. The shadow it cast gave him a sterner look but could not mask those laughing orbs. "I should ask YOU that same question," he retorted.
I blushed. Yes, I did recall coming into the building.
"Um . . .," I answered, my lexicon being at its best.
Sam leaned forward a little in his seat. "Don't worry too much about it. I was young once, believe it or not. But take it from an old man, Rei Kon, you be careful about where you decide to let loose. You can spend all of your life being prepared, but it only takes a moment of you letting down your defenses for someone to attack. Remember, tigers aren't the only predators in the jungle . . . even they have their enemies."
I stared at him for a moment while gulping down a newly developed lump of fear that had formed in my throat. Did Sam know about the case? My question later caused me to want to smack my head against a solid object. After all, he WAS reading the paper.
"So then, you know," I said.
He nodded slowly. "Well, it's on the front page of the paper and then that detective came wandering in here looking for you. Gave me quite a start when she said it was YOU she wanted to see. She asked me some questions about you, 'coarse I told her the honest truth."
"Which is?"
"That you're a vile little vigilante."
"Sam!" I exclaimed, perhaps feeling a little too vulnerable that night to catch his sarcasm.
He only chuckled. "Relax, boy, just calm down. I told her you were a good, quiet tenant who never caused trouble to a soul. Now, you don't have to tell me all the details of the case, but I do want to know if you're in trouble of any sorts."
I shrugged that time. "She said that, if anything, I'd be a witness of some kind, but I won't lie to you, Sam. I'm a little frightened. She told me that the guy that they're after is . . . possessive or something, and I should be careful." I admitted.
The elderly man nodded slowly. "Well, you don't have to worry t'all about anyone getting in this building. I won't let any strangers in here, but I can't do a thing to protect you once you walk out those doors. Are you sure you should be leaving tonight?" His bushy eyebrows furrowed, and I smiled at his concern.
Sam had a point, as he usually did, and I took a moment to think over my situation. Still, I was certain that if I opened those doors, those persistent killers would be lined up waiting for me yet again. I sighed.
"Ya know, it IS getting late," I reasoned.
He grinned a little and nodded. I could tell he was waiting for me to talk myself out of leaving, and the knowledge didn't stop me from doing so.
"I was going to try and exterminate my paranoia, but ya know. . . I could do that little by little, right?"
"Oh, sure, Mr. Kon."
"Maybe start out at a different time . . . like when there is broad daylight."
"Um-hm, definitely," Sam agreed.
"Maybe I'll just head back upstairs and order take out," I concluded.
"Oh now there's a smart idea," he said.
I let out another sigh and turned to leave. "Night, Sam," I called.
"Good night, Rei," he replied.
I glanced back at him upon hearing my first name, and he merely winked at me before returning back to reading his paper. Smiling to myself I trekked back to my apartment. I wasn't ready to go out that night anyway and was fortunate that Sam had been there to convince me to talk myself out of leaving.
When I got to my apartment, I unlocked it and stepped inside, reveling in its familiarity. I glanced out the window. The sun's light was barely visible in the sky, as night had begun its reign.
Remembering poignantly to lock my door, I made my way over to the phone and dialed the number of a favorite Italian restaurant. It was somewhat pathetic of me to have had the number programmed into my brain. I shrugged it off though and placed my order. It was a short, mechanical process, and then I hung up the phone and wondered what I should do with my time for the next thirty minutes. My eyes landed on the computer sitting in the far corner of the living room. I shrugged and reluctantly made my way over to the contraption.
I turned it on and pulled up the typing program. My notes were gathered in a neat stack next to the keyboard, so I quickly grabbed those and began a stirring opening paragraph for my history report. The words, brilliant in their glory, flowed from my mind and into my fingers, so that my splendid thoughts became tangible words on the computer screen. After finishing the beloved paragraph, I read over the greatness that was mine and proceeded to delete everything I had written. It was crap anyway.
I pushed away from the computer desk and decided that I needed to do something else to preoccupy my time. Spying a book on the coffee table, I thought that perhaps I could still try and do something productive. I settled on the couch and began reading. Oh, it was a stirring novel packed with romance, comedy, action, and suspense, all of which stemmed from a . . . murder . . . plot. I paled and closed the book. I put it back on its original perch on the table, but then decided that it would look MUCH better tucked safely under a couch cushion where, you know, I wouldn't be able to see it.
I was beginning to get agitated, for it seemed my mind could not find anything to preoccupy itself with. I was thinking too hard, which was only bringing me grief. Ah, but an idea came to me! If thinking were my problem, then I would simply have to AVOID thinking. It was GENIUS! So, I grabbed the remote control and turned on the television. From that point, I let my mind fall in to the puddle of sweet, sweet numbness.
My plan must have been successful, for the next thing I new, I was pulled out of my T.V. enhanced daze by the sound of someone buzzing up. I got up to answer the call.
"Yeah?" I asked.
"Delivery for Rei Kon," said a young voice, though it sounded oddly familiar.
I smiled. I was getting hungry. "Come on up," I instructed.
It took a few moments, but soon there came a pounding at my door, and I unlocked it and opened it. I was MORE than surprised to be met with the familiar cheery face of Max!
"Max?" I asked.
He chuckled, and he pranced in. "That'll be six fifty, bud," he said as he set my meal on the table.
I closed the door behind him. "What are you doing here?" I asked. Then I eyed the food. "And . . . what did you do to the delivery guy?"
Max merely laughed again. "Oh you know, the usual, bound and gagged him and stuffed him in the boiler room. Sam was kind enough to provide the rope."
I grinned. "Seriously, what's going on?"
The blonde shrugged and took a seat in one of the kitchen chairs. "Nothing. It's just that I walked in about the same time as the delivery guy did and convinced him to let me take it up to you," he explained.
I took a seat too. "Really? How?"
Another grin found its way onto Max's lips. "Well, you'll never guess who the delivery guy was!"
Max failed to give me time to actually guess. I have a feeling the concept of the game was lost to him.
"It was Joseph!"
I gasped a little. "And the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat?" I asked excitedly, surprising us both.
Max blinked, and so did I. We both turned to the television, which was rolling the credits to Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat. I guessed that's what I had been watching.
Max shook his slowly. "No, no. Joseph as in the SAINT SHIELDS, Joseph," he said steadily.
I cleared my throat in embarrassment. "Yeah, I know," I mumbled.
Max blinked once more before laughing good-naturedly, causing a smile to befall my lips.
"Yeah, I guess he and the rest of them are all trying to hold down jobs to pay their way through school." Max said.
I began to sift through the brown bag and pulled out my various orders. Automatically, Max began to help.
"Woah, Joseph as a delivery boy. That's weird, but what about pay?" I asked, suddenly remembering that I hadn't had a chance to do that.
Max waved it off as he began to dig into one of the pasta dishes. I didn't mind, as it was something we had done often.
"Well, after I saw that the food was for you, I covered it 'cause I knew I'd be helping you eat it," Max said, and he winked at me.
I smiled and began on my own dish. With noodles still occupying my mouth, I decided to ask Max my OTHER, more important question. "So then, that explains why my FOOD is here, but um, what about you?"
At my question, Max's face took on an expression of uneasiness. I knew why he was at my apartment. I shouldn't have even asked him. With a sigh (something I'd been doing a lot), I gulped down a few more flavorful bites of pasta before setting down my utensils. Max's blue eyes met with mine, and we stared at one another for some time in silence. Soon, his gaze slipped from me and began meandering around the room.
"Max," I started tentatively.
The blonde looked at me in response my summoning.
"Are you . . . okay?" I queried.
He shrugged. "I'm . . . a girl is DEAD, Rei. I didn't know her, but I saw her last night. I guess I'm sort of in a state of shock."
I was sympathetic toward his confession of his feelings. It was still odd to me that someone who I had just seen the previous night could be non- existent . . . that poor girl.
"I know, it's terrible," I agreed.
I watched steadily as his silverware began swirling his food aimlessly around the container. He propped his chin up on his free, fisted hand and seemed to concentrate on his task. Then, quite suddenly, he looked up at me, those azure eyes glistening with concern.
"But . . . what about you, Rei? I mean, you were with that guy and now that he's missing and a suspect . . ." Max simply chose to trail off, knowing that he did not have to continue further.
"I'm going through a paranoia period. I'm wary of leaving the apartment. It's just so weird. How could all of this have happened?" I asked absently.
Max slurped some noodles. "I just hope they catch that Lake guy and everything turns out okay," he said honestly.
I nodded. "What'd you tell Mou?"
Max made a face of disapproval, and I couldn't suppress a chuckle. Apparently, he had received the same 'royal' treatment as I had.
"I couldn't tell her much. I practically spent the entire night at the table."
I shrugged. He had a point. Another question, one on the lighter side, struck me. "So, did you sign that blade for her son?" I asked.
Max grinned. "Yup! Wasn't that cool? I never would have expected her to be a mom."
"My thoughts precisely," I said.
After that, the conversation became lighter and jesting. We had spent many an hour talking like that in the past, and I was relieved to find that the case hadn't affected that routine.
We spoke long into the night about school and less important matters, but comfortable conversations have a strange habit of giving people a false sense of security. The moment you believe yourself to have reached that point when no negativity or uneasiness can come, you find yourself more than shocked when it, oddly enough, DOES.
"So when did Tyson leave your place?" I asked.
Max shoved his emptied dish aside, having long ago relinquished what it had held. "He left around one, I think."
"So what did you guys do while he was there?"
The blonde shrugged. "Played some video games, talked, just whatever."
I noticed his reply was uncharacteristically timid. With an arched eyebrow and my infamous curiosity, I suggestively queried, "Was that ALL?"
He squirmed in his seat, suddenly finding the tabletop extremely fascinating. I grinned devilishly, for I knew I had stumbled upon something, shall we say, juicy? Or perhaps to sound as an intellectual, I had located a probable new development in the theoretically possible relationship between subjects A and B, informally known as Tyson and Max. Heh, Einstein, eat your hear out.
"C'mon, Maxie. You and I don't keep secrets from each other," I persisted.
He fidgeted. "I . . . I know, Rei, but-"
"But nothing! You gotta tell me Max!"
He sighed. "Well, Tyson is trying out for this part in a play, and he asked me to help him with his lines, and I agreed . . . figured, ya know, why not? What could it hurt?"
"What play?" I asked.
"Well, it seems a bit predictable, but it was . . . Romeo and Juliet." Max answered reluctantly.
I almost laughed . . . almost. Instead, I urged him on with an interested stare and a kindly smile.
"He," Max began, but paused and his expression looked somewhat baffled. He unconsciously gnawed on his lip before continuing. "He was trying out for Romeo, which isn't exactly a surprise so, of course, I had to be Juliet. And he was saying his lines beautifully. For a while it was strictly reading. That was all, nothing more. He was reciting, and I was reading from the script. Then, something happened, I don't know how, or when, but I started to feel like he had stopped being Romeo, and he wasn't reciting those lines for Juliet. I felt like it was Tyson saying those things to . . . me." Max paused and looked up at me, those eyes so full of confusion and, dare I note, fear.
Despite his disposition at that moment, all I could do was cheer inside my head, for it had seemed like an eternity would pass before something happened between those two. I felt relieved, but Max was far from that feeling. So, outwardly, I smiled easily and placed a hand atop his. "Max," I said. "Maybe he WAS."
My blonde friend stared at me for a moment, completely still. Abruptly, he pulled his hand out from under mine and placed it in his lap. "He CAN'T." Max spoke the words sternly.
I was somewhat surprised by the reaction. I mean, call me a romantic, but once he had LEARNED of Tyson's feelings for him, he was supposed to figure out that he harbored feelings for Tyson. Then, with his heart filled with hope and joy, he was to run from my apartment, bursting forth into the night, climb into his noble chariot (Jag) and speed off so that he could throw himself into his new found love's arms and proclaim his everlasting, undying devotion and tender hearted care! . . . So I've been known to read a few romance novels. Sue me!
"Max, what do you mean, he can't?"
"He . . . he just can't. Tyson can't feel that way for me." Max persisted.
"Why NOT?"
Max gently shook his head and looked downward at . . .God knows what. His blonde bangs successfully shadowed his face, which is why I was so taken aback when he snapped his head upward and set a glazed, shimmering blue gaze on me. His hands climbed from his lap and rested on the table, but I couldn't help but notice how they trembled.
"Because . . . because I care about him too much to lose him!" He exclaimed.
Suddenly, he stood up, the chair screeching against the floor, and headed toward the door. I shook my head, ridding myself of my shock and gained my bearings enough to call out his name, begging him to stop, telling him that we could talk about it. He only paused briefly to look over one of his slender shoulders at me and replied, "There's not really anything to talk about . . . good night." And with those words, he left. And I was . . . alone in my apartment again, just . . . blinking in confusion.
It seemed odd that we could be talking so freely one moment and then upsetting one another the next. My head began to pound at those thoughts, for though my day had been crappy; the incident with my best friend seemed to officially make it shitty, which gave rise to the thought that upgrades aren't always a good thing. Shortly thereafter, I decided to screw the world and everyone in it, and I went to bed.
The next morning came as any other, though it was not the light pouring through my window that woke me as much as it was the nightmare I had had. Ever since I was young, the Elders would tell the children of our village a story of the olden days. Days when our kind flourished, when the humans and the neko-jins lived and worked together. The Elders told us that those times were happy for both races.
As a child, that part of the story always created a warm, sunny image of smiling people waving friendly greetings to one another, laughing, and chatting. It seemed as though the Elders saw the image too, because even at our tender ages, we could see cheery twinkling in their venerable eyes. And we would smile, and they would watch us, pausing so as to etch the image of our young faces in to their minds. They wished to hold fast to our smiles, for they would soon begin to finish their tale, and they knew that our happy expressions would dissipate.
Suddenly, the Elder's voices would get softer and lower, as if trying to be certain that no one but us would hear them. Those sparkling eyes would lose their luster, and their lips would become taut as they spoke.
They told us of outsiders who invaded the lands, looting, plundering, and raping their way through every defense. They were brutish armies who soon recognized the physical differences between the humans and the neko-jins, for all those years ago the discrepancies of our separate races were far more evident.
The invaders began capturing the neko-jins, forcing them into slavery, and segregating them from the humans, who were powerless to oppose the barbaric happenings. Suddenly, humans and neko-jins became fast enemies.
Time passed, as did dynasties and rulers, and with them came and went their policies and regulations. Neko-jins and humans interbred with one another, creating a race of neko-jin/human hybrids and the dominant race of pure humans. Peace fell over the lands again. The humans and neko-jins attempted to work side by side once again, but damage had been done and prejudices still remained.
After years of persecution and arguing on both race's sides, a wise leader of neko-jin descent stepped forward and led his people away from the humans. Once again, the races were segregated, but both groups of people were happy that way, for despite the fact that breeding had caused neko- jins to look more and more human, their blood was still different, and so were their pasts.
More time passed, and neko-jins became elusive creatures that were rarely spoken of. Soon, the old days of peace and war became forgotten, and neko- jins took a back seat in history, melting into the plains of mythology and lore. They reappeared to the world as humans, and nothing more. But they kept their heritage alive by way of mouth, believing strongly that a person was nothing without an ancestry.
Every time I heard that story, I would go home and dream that I was there, in the past, with my ancestors experiencing their pain and tears. Every dream was a nightmare, for I could always smell the blood of the slaughtered and hear vividly the screams of the abused. I would wake up sweating and frightened, as I did that morning.
For a time, I simply lay there in my sweat soaked sheets, breathing steadily and thinking back to my dream. It was a reoccurring one. I could recall every detail with a precision practically unheard of when it came to recalling one's dreams.
I felt my chest rise and fall, and I heard myself in taking breaths and letting them out slowly. My eyes were half-lidded, as I stared dazedly upward at the ceiling.
My hair stuck to my brow and my arms and legs, and it was, over all, an uncomfortable position, but I needed the time to regain myself. I needed time to forget those fiery images. So, time I took, and though I knew not how long I stayed in my bed, sprawled out and sweating, I did overcome the impact that the dream had on me. Eventually, I pulled myself out of bed and made my way to the bathroom, wherein I showered and brushed my teeth.
Upon emerging from the bathroom's steamy depths, I felt much better. The morning was a bright and sunny one, and I was clean and feeling refreshed.
With my hair wrapped securely in a towel, I wandered into the kitchen and made myself some oatmeal, as breakfast wasn't exactly my favorite meal of the day. In fact, if I ate at all in the morning, it was usually something light and filling enough to tide me over till lunch.
While slurping my breakfast, I turned on the television and watched the news.
I suppose it was and still IS an odd little fetish of mine. I simply have to start my day out with knowing about everyone else's business.
My eyes were glued with great devotion to the news anchor as he spoke with mock enthusiasm, making bad jokes with the weatherman, who chuckled absently, not really paying attention, as he obviously had his mind on the cute female reporter who was out in the field. Oh, but won't Weatherman be upset when he finds out that Cute Female Reporter has a thing for Bad Joke Cracking News Anchor, who will definitely feel awkward when he gets news of her attraction, because it's all to apparent that he and Political Analyst Lady have been going out for WEEKS!
. . . Hm . . . anyway . . .
Suddenly, the phone rang. I was much too enamored with my morning news soap opera drama to actually look at the phone as I picked it up. I merely felt around the counter until I found it, and then I proceeded to push buttons until it turned on. Eyes still on the television screen, I held the phone to my ear and took the spoon out of my mouth before saying, "Hello?"
"Morning, Rei!"
I recognized the cheery voice. "Hey, Tyson," I greeted.
Ah-ha! He couldn't hide it from THIS viewer. I saw the nasty look Weatherman gave to Bad Joke Cracking News Anchor!
It took me a minute to realize Tyson had said something.
"I'm sorry, what'd you say Tyson? I was . . . distracted for a second."
"I asked if you would tend to the dojo today," Tyson repeated.
"I guess, but isn't it Kai's day?"
"Yeah, but he's got some weird business school whatever deal going on, and he said he wouldn't be able to make it. Anyway, I've got those play try- outs today, and I'll probably be gone all day, because I've got class afterwards. So, you'll do it?"
I frowned as I saw Cute Female Reporter smile sappily at Bad Joke Cracking News Anchor. He simply wasn't good enough for her.
"Uh, yeah I'll take care of it," I answered.
"Great, thanks a bunch. See ya later!"
"Yeah, bye," I said quickly, and hung up.
It was later, when I was tending to my time consuming hair, that I thought that MAYBE, just maybe . . . I should stop reading so much into the news. Most of those people were married anyway . . .
Ah, sweet uneventful morning, meaning mine was until about ten A.M. when it became my personal revelation that my promise to Tyson had to be kept. Shortly after the great revelation, I threw on a light jacket over my navy blue, cotton t-shirt, which served as a nice partner to my jeans and tennis shoes. I was still a little unhappy though, for my hair had failed to dry completely, therefore causing me to disregard the thought of putting it up in its usual white binding. Instead, the dark locks were pony-tailed mid- way down my back.
The sacred chain of keys that spent most of its time in my presence were slipped into their usual spot within the sanctities of my jacket pocket, and I then glanced around the apartment to make certain everything was off. The only thing that wasn't was the computer, which may or may not have received a poignant glare from me. I decided to ignore the piece of equipment. We were just . . . having relationship problems.
Finally, the much-awaited journey to the dojo began with my opening, stepping out, and over all closing and locking of the door. From there I traveled to the lobby and was disappointed to find that Sam wasn't on duty right then. It was some other guy, a younger man. I wasn't certain how much I appreciated him. He simply stood there, leaning against the wall, brown eyes staring blankly at the OPPOSITE wall. However, I decided I would at least ATTEMPT to be pleasant. So, with a smile, my hand lifted upward in the typical waving gesture, and I said, "Good morning."
His eyes pulled themselves reluctantly away from the 'awe inspiring' opposite wall, and he merely nodded stiffly at me. I passed by him quickly and exited the building. That kind of greeting angered me. It was what could be described as a 'Kai' greeting, and that was one of the things that bothered me about the Russian. Was it so hard to be friendly?
The sun outside shone brightly and felt good on my skin. I had always loved lying out in the sun, stretching, sleeping, just closing my eyes and reveling in its warmth. Back in the village it had been a favorite pass- time of mine as well as many of the other villagers. And the hills at home were always green and moist from the underlying soil. They made for perfect sun basking spots, but there, in the city, the sun's blissful rays had to sneak beyond the barriers of the tall, gray buildings and skyscrapers. It saddened me, at times, that city dwellers so often took nature for granted . . . it saddened me that I was no longer able to spend time curled up on fluffy patches of green grass, the sun on my form, surrounded by my own kind and Mother Earth's sweet, sweet songs.
I sighed quite audibly as I walked to the parking lot and located my red Camero. My magic keys unlocked the door, allowing me entrance, and they were even nice enough to start the car for me. Naturally, I put the car in gear and pulled out of the lot. Destination: La propiedad de Tyson!
. . . Hey, whattaya know. . . I CAN speak Spanish!
The drive to the dojo was nothing spectacular, so describing it would be a bit pointless. The point is simply that I GOT there.
I always felt a wave of peaceful calmness descend upon me when I climbed out of the car and took that first glance around the old place. It was a tranquil atmosphere. There, the sun COULD get through, and its brilliant light filtered through the translucent leaves of the trees, which were slightly agitated by a gentle, good-natured breeze. Birds sang freely for anyone who would listen, and I felt fortunate that I was one of those people who had the opportunity to hear their songs.
There was some work to be done around the place. The gardens needed to be weeded, and I had some interesting floral ideas floating around in my head. I didn't imagine Tyson would mind, for gardening wasn't exactly his forte. Actually, carpentry wasn't his forte either, which meant that I would probably have to go in and check for damage to the house. Ty may have lived, eaten, and slept there, but that was about it, although, he DID do dishes and cook his own meals, and I could account for a few times when he made his own bed. Ah, yes, now THOSE were days to mark down on the calendar. He was lucky that the dojo held sentimental importance to us all, and that we were kind, good friends who didn't want to see him living in a pitched tent on the site of a collapsed house.
I yawned easily as I made my way into the house to grab some gloves. Some of those weeds could be thorny, and I had had my fair share of botanical wounds, thank you very much.
The sought after gloves were found tucked away under the kitchen sink. I smirked as I slid them on. Who would have imagined Tyson would go for pink? Ah, well, they would do. Personally though, I would have gone for a darker color so that the dirt wouldn't be as apparent.
And I'm not GIRLIE . . . I just have a very volatile feminine side!
Anyway, I left the house, complete with gloves, and headed toward the back of the house. I thought I would start there and work my way to the front. So, once arriving in the shady back yard, I got to my knees and positioned myself as comfortably as was possible. From there, the work began, my protected hands yanking out gnarled, unwanted plants and grasses. Some did have thorns and the gloves could not protect me from every one of them, but the pain was less severe than if I had not had them.
Such work was always fairly therapeutic, as it gave my mind time to wander without interruptions. Allowing my mind to simply go without restraints was a favorite pass-time. I absently hummed to unknown tunes or whistled, or simply stayed quiet listening to everything around me. I pondered everything from the simplicities of my future flower arrangements to the complexities of the proper place of religion in society.
So wrapped up in my thoughts, I didn't even hear the footsteps that drew near to me. I only figured out that my presence was not the only one when I felt a sharp tug on my hair; I'll admit, it frightened me. I gasped, and whipped around, only to find myself face to face with an amused looking Kai.
"Jesus, Kai!" I exclaimed.
He said nothing, which was expected. I took a moment to regain my composure before wiping a gloved hand across my slightly dampened brow. "What are you doing here? Tyson said you were at class."
Kai's eyes seemed to concentrate on my pink gloves, and one of his eyebrows rose. I just shrugged in response and waited for an answer.
"It was canceled. I had hoped to make it here before Tyson called someone else, but obviously, I failed."
I smiled. "Doesn't mean your help couldn't be used. I haven't been in to inspect the house yet, but I can guarantee it has problems."
Kai nodded slightly. "Fine, I guess I'll start in there," he said and walked off.
I turned back to my own business. My thoughts, however, were less scattered, for now they centered on only one subject, and it was Kai. Our conversation had been as light as it ever had. Nothing had changed between us. There was nothing awkward about seeing him, and his eyes had appeared as still and stoic . . . just like they usually were. It seemed odd that there would be no altercation in our relationship, and yet it felt right . . . that I felt nothing deeper for him.
I sighed in content and continued my work.
Naturally, as the morning wore on and noon approached, the sun grew much hotter, causing me to have to remove my jacket. It didn't take too much more time for me to finish weeding the garden on both sides of the house. Soon, I was free to abandon my chore and give my attention to my parched tongue. I headed inside the house, heart set on the kitchen, to get a drink. However, a discordant pounding broke the peaceful atmosphere, also succeeding scaring the living hell out of me. I then remembered that Kai was there and deducted that he was doing some much needed carpentry somewhere. With the mystery solved, I continued to the kitchen where I removed my lovely gloves.
Once at the destination, my hands busied themselves with rummaging through the refrigerator where I found two empty cartons of orange juice, a half drunken can of pop, some VERY old milk, a single glass of water, a jar of peanut butter with the lid off and the knife still inside, as well as what appeared to be the STARTINGS of sandwich that may have had peanut butter involved, and many other oddly placed, assorted items.
Giving up completely on the refrigerator, I moved to the freezer wherein I came upon some Popsicles, and ice cream bars, a few T.V. dinners, ice, and other things that generally go into a freezer. If I didn't count the bowl of frozen popcorn, Tyson's FREEZER contents were relatively normal.
After that adventure, I took to the cabinets and found some powdered lemonade drink mix. I shrugged, grabbed a pitcher, poured in the powder, and added water. I stirred it, poured it into two cups, dunked some ice into the cups, and picked the glasses up. Then, I headed out to locate Kai, figuring he would be thirsty too, although bringing him lemonade seemed just a LITTLE on the cliché side.
I followed the sound of the pounding, wincing slightly as I drew nearer, for it somewhat agitated my sensitive ears.
"Kai!" I called as I came upon. He was on the wooden walkway that separated the house and the dojo, obviously fixing some of the floorboards. He didn't hear me at first, which gave me time to observe him. A slim, yet toned body covered by baggy blue jeans and a gray tank top that had once been concealed under a blue over shirt and, completing the outfit, were black sneakers.
I smirked to myself. There was SO much more than what met the eye.
"Kai," I said again.
That time, he ceased his hammering, much to my relief, and looked over at me with those crimson eyes. Smiling, I approached him and proffered him one of the glasses of lemonade.
"It's getting hot, you want some?"
His features looked bemused at first, but he shrugged and accepted the glass. I sighed as I sipped at the beverage, and watched out of the corner of my eye as Kai sipped his. For a while, it was silent, and that was okay with me, but I got antsy rather quickly for no reason that I could think of.
"Wanna go for a walk up to the shrine?" I asked suddenly, surprising both Kai and myself.
Naturally, he didn't respond right away, but his answer I awaited patiently, for his ways were well known to me.
"I suppose," he answered.
"Okay." And with that, I started walking off, him by my side.
We began the familiar path toward the shrine. Shade was provided by the rows of trees on either side of the cobblestone walkway, and a soft breeze played lightheartedly with strands of my dark hair.
"Rei," Kai spoke abruptly.
I glanced over at him. "Hm?"
"The other night wasn't--"
"Anything," I interrupted.
He stared over at me, surprised, and then nodded stiffly. "I . . . didn't want you to think that . . ." Kai trailed off, knowing well I understood him.
I stopped walking, and so did he. We faced one another, and I spared a moment to take a drink from my lemonade. "I'm not really into commitments anyway, Kai. It wasn't anything to me, either," I assured him but had to grin. "Nothin' but fun," I added.
Kai smirked and nodded yet again. We stood there in (you guessed it) silence. And then, he moved closer. I watched his eyes carefully, and interestedly observed a slight shadow of lust slip into his stoic orbs, giving them a certain spark, a life of which I had only seen once before. It was invigorating, and I could feel my body tingle in anticipation.
He slipped a hand behind my neck and his fingers crawled into bury themselves in my hair, massaging my scalp. He touched his lips to mine. It was light and deceptively chaste feeling, for soon the kiss deepened. His tongue began sliding along my lower lip, demanding entrance to my mouth, a request I answered quickly by granting him passage. Soon, that smooth tongue was exploring, ravaging every cavern in my mouth, and I kissed him back excitedly. My body wanted to feel the sensations of the previous night.
Kai's free hand slid down my back and wasted little time in getting under my shirt. I gasped a little, causing us to break the kiss. Panting, Kai leaned his forehead against mine, his eyes having grown fiercer.
"You're mine," he whispered possessively.
My mind took offence at the statement, but my body could've cared less. Anyway, it wasn't the real Kai that had said it. It was . . . something else that I didn't think he could fully control. Still, my pride didn't allow me completely disregard it. I merely smirked darkly and grabbed his exploring hand, guiding it lower and lower until his fingertips had breached the rim of my jeans. I licked his lips tauntingly and said silkily, "For now."
At that, Kai captured my lips in another deep, passionate kiss. He worked my shirt over my head and tossed it . . . somewhere. From there, it just . . . happened. Somehow, we managed to move into the grassy area behind a conveniently placed bush and began an epic adventure of extreme pleasure and discomfort, for we found out that Mother Nature is not merciful to the naked man.
A while later, we came out from behind the bush, rumpled and disarrayed from our excursions, and I believe we decided that there were better places we could do things like that, or at least, someone would have to bring a blanket the next time.
Not much else was said between us, for we each parted ways. I took the glasses to the kitchen, and Kai went to finish his work. Shortly thereafter, my stomach began to grumble. Kai, with perfect timing, asked if I wanted to go get some food, not an unusual question when it was just he and I. Agreeing, he said we could take his car. So, away we went to dine.
It was a nice meal, quiet, but pleasant. I did a majority of the talking, and Kai did a majority of the listening and that's simply how it played out. Evening came upon us much faster that I expected. I grew tired and it became dark. Deciding I would pick up my car the next day, I asked Kai if he would just give me a ride home. Naturally, he agreed and dropped me off at my building.
I watched him leave before I went inside, chatting casually with Sam before heading upstairs to my apartment. It was when I got to my door that I realized I didn't have my jacket, which meant I didn't have my KEYS. Sighing, I realized I had 'oh so intelligently' left my jacket at Tyson's. I'd pick it up when I went to get my car the next day, presumably after class. As for getting into my apartment, I could do one of two things: climb in through the fire escape or get the spare keys from Sam. Hm . . . choices.
P.S. I don't own Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat either, but if you liked or disliked the randomness of THAT particular part, the credit goes to my good buddy, Lonely Wanderer! Ja!
Author's Note: Hello folks! It's been a while, but I come with good news! The pigeons have been apprehended and are in custody as we speak! (Pauses for cheering) Now that THAT business has been taken care of, I would simply like to say, thanks for all of your support. The story is coming along slowly but surely, and I hope that you all enjoy this installment. Happy Readings!
'Rei Kon is involved in a murder investigation. Kon Rei is part of an investigation. I am a witness in a murder investigation,' I thought absently.
I shook my head. No, it didn't matter how I worded it, it simply didn't sound right.
I sighed. My emotions were a strange mixture: confusion tossed with depression and sprinkled with anger, dashed with demented excitement and heavily glazed with worry.
With the completion of my self-evaluation, my stomach grumbled unhappily, apparently giving the hint that one, I was hungry and two, I wanted either salad with honey glazed chicken or chicken alfredo with a salad on the side. I glanced perfunctorily at the clock, noting that it was about 5:00 in the evening, and I sighed as I glanced out the window. The clouds, airbrushed in dim pink and purple hues, floated in an endless blue sky. Soon, the blue would melt away like watered down paint on a canvas and give way to the heavenly brilliance of gold, and then, that too would trickle down, and the earth would be left with a sparkling blanket of night.
The thought of night suddenly caused a distressed chill to travel up my spine. I shivered slightly as the hair on my neck rose. The previous night, darkness had seemed exciting and mysterious, a lustful hand stretching outward to encompass my being and offer me spicy secrets that would touch the ears of a select few. However, at the moment, I felt a slight wave of paranoia when I thought of the darkness. The night seemed fell and unforgiving. The silky hand of the previous night had been vanquished and, in its place, were the many, many clawed hands of the deadly unknown scratching at my skin. Their whispered secrets had fallen upon the ears of countless victims that had been swallowed into a jagged obsidian toothed mouth, and digested in the belly of a conspicuous beast.
It was at the end of this procession of thought that I gave going out to eat a second thought. After all, I enjoyed my life very much, and now that I knew about everything, I was beginning to feel as though I was being watched. It was an uncomfortable feeling, for I didn't know whether or not to trust my instincts. As a neko-jin, I could generally trust them to be accurate, but then, I wasn't exactly in a calm, rational state of mind. No, at that particular time, I was fairly certain that if I opened my door all of the evil, scary, psychopathic, sociopath, homicidal villains from every horror movie I'd ever seen would be lined up in the hallway, each with some demented to plan to end my miserable life. Yes, indeed, somehow I managed to piss off every fictional character so bad that they were going to take turns killing me. And here's the real ass kicker. They were all waiting patiently in single file while the guy in front knocked politely on the door.
I gently shook my head. I was being silly. What were the chances that that Lake guy even remembered who I was? Anyway, logic told me that I couldn't spend the rest of my days hiding in my apartment like some sort of hermit. I needed to leave.
So, my mind made up, I grabbed a jacket and my keys, turned off the lights, and left the apartment, making extra sure that the door was locked. Just because I had decided to conquer my fears didn't mean I wasn't going to be cautious.
I traveled the familiar path downstairs to the lobby and smiled easily at the sight of Sam sitting in his usual chair, reading the paper. It was nice to know that my life still had something constant in it. I was a little afraid that everything would begin to turn upside down what with the case and all.
"Hey Sam," I greeted.
Sam lowered his paper and smiled at me, blue eyes twinkling. Little creases, laugh lines, formed around his lips and eyes, always reminding me that in a corrupt world, there were still genuine, good hearted people . . . like Sam.
"Evening, Mr. Kon," he greeted, his tone easy and tenor.
I shook my head. "Rei," I corrected.
His eyes still twinkled in mischief, and he nodded. "Of course, Mr. Kon."
I rolled my eyes. "Anyway, how've you been?" I asked.
Sam shrugged and tipped his hat a little lower over his eyes. The shadow it cast gave him a sterner look but could not mask those laughing orbs. "I should ask YOU that same question," he retorted.
I blushed. Yes, I did recall coming into the building.
"Um . . .," I answered, my lexicon being at its best.
Sam leaned forward a little in his seat. "Don't worry too much about it. I was young once, believe it or not. But take it from an old man, Rei Kon, you be careful about where you decide to let loose. You can spend all of your life being prepared, but it only takes a moment of you letting down your defenses for someone to attack. Remember, tigers aren't the only predators in the jungle . . . even they have their enemies."
I stared at him for a moment while gulping down a newly developed lump of fear that had formed in my throat. Did Sam know about the case? My question later caused me to want to smack my head against a solid object. After all, he WAS reading the paper.
"So then, you know," I said.
He nodded slowly. "Well, it's on the front page of the paper and then that detective came wandering in here looking for you. Gave me quite a start when she said it was YOU she wanted to see. She asked me some questions about you, 'coarse I told her the honest truth."
"Which is?"
"That you're a vile little vigilante."
"Sam!" I exclaimed, perhaps feeling a little too vulnerable that night to catch his sarcasm.
He only chuckled. "Relax, boy, just calm down. I told her you were a good, quiet tenant who never caused trouble to a soul. Now, you don't have to tell me all the details of the case, but I do want to know if you're in trouble of any sorts."
I shrugged that time. "She said that, if anything, I'd be a witness of some kind, but I won't lie to you, Sam. I'm a little frightened. She told me that the guy that they're after is . . . possessive or something, and I should be careful." I admitted.
The elderly man nodded slowly. "Well, you don't have to worry t'all about anyone getting in this building. I won't let any strangers in here, but I can't do a thing to protect you once you walk out those doors. Are you sure you should be leaving tonight?" His bushy eyebrows furrowed, and I smiled at his concern.
Sam had a point, as he usually did, and I took a moment to think over my situation. Still, I was certain that if I opened those doors, those persistent killers would be lined up waiting for me yet again. I sighed.
"Ya know, it IS getting late," I reasoned.
He grinned a little and nodded. I could tell he was waiting for me to talk myself out of leaving, and the knowledge didn't stop me from doing so.
"I was going to try and exterminate my paranoia, but ya know. . . I could do that little by little, right?"
"Oh, sure, Mr. Kon."
"Maybe start out at a different time . . . like when there is broad daylight."
"Um-hm, definitely," Sam agreed.
"Maybe I'll just head back upstairs and order take out," I concluded.
"Oh now there's a smart idea," he said.
I let out another sigh and turned to leave. "Night, Sam," I called.
"Good night, Rei," he replied.
I glanced back at him upon hearing my first name, and he merely winked at me before returning back to reading his paper. Smiling to myself I trekked back to my apartment. I wasn't ready to go out that night anyway and was fortunate that Sam had been there to convince me to talk myself out of leaving.
When I got to my apartment, I unlocked it and stepped inside, reveling in its familiarity. I glanced out the window. The sun's light was barely visible in the sky, as night had begun its reign.
Remembering poignantly to lock my door, I made my way over to the phone and dialed the number of a favorite Italian restaurant. It was somewhat pathetic of me to have had the number programmed into my brain. I shrugged it off though and placed my order. It was a short, mechanical process, and then I hung up the phone and wondered what I should do with my time for the next thirty minutes. My eyes landed on the computer sitting in the far corner of the living room. I shrugged and reluctantly made my way over to the contraption.
I turned it on and pulled up the typing program. My notes were gathered in a neat stack next to the keyboard, so I quickly grabbed those and began a stirring opening paragraph for my history report. The words, brilliant in their glory, flowed from my mind and into my fingers, so that my splendid thoughts became tangible words on the computer screen. After finishing the beloved paragraph, I read over the greatness that was mine and proceeded to delete everything I had written. It was crap anyway.
I pushed away from the computer desk and decided that I needed to do something else to preoccupy my time. Spying a book on the coffee table, I thought that perhaps I could still try and do something productive. I settled on the couch and began reading. Oh, it was a stirring novel packed with romance, comedy, action, and suspense, all of which stemmed from a . . . murder . . . plot. I paled and closed the book. I put it back on its original perch on the table, but then decided that it would look MUCH better tucked safely under a couch cushion where, you know, I wouldn't be able to see it.
I was beginning to get agitated, for it seemed my mind could not find anything to preoccupy itself with. I was thinking too hard, which was only bringing me grief. Ah, but an idea came to me! If thinking were my problem, then I would simply have to AVOID thinking. It was GENIUS! So, I grabbed the remote control and turned on the television. From that point, I let my mind fall in to the puddle of sweet, sweet numbness.
My plan must have been successful, for the next thing I new, I was pulled out of my T.V. enhanced daze by the sound of someone buzzing up. I got up to answer the call.
"Yeah?" I asked.
"Delivery for Rei Kon," said a young voice, though it sounded oddly familiar.
I smiled. I was getting hungry. "Come on up," I instructed.
It took a few moments, but soon there came a pounding at my door, and I unlocked it and opened it. I was MORE than surprised to be met with the familiar cheery face of Max!
"Max?" I asked.
He chuckled, and he pranced in. "That'll be six fifty, bud," he said as he set my meal on the table.
I closed the door behind him. "What are you doing here?" I asked. Then I eyed the food. "And . . . what did you do to the delivery guy?"
Max merely laughed again. "Oh you know, the usual, bound and gagged him and stuffed him in the boiler room. Sam was kind enough to provide the rope."
I grinned. "Seriously, what's going on?"
The blonde shrugged and took a seat in one of the kitchen chairs. "Nothing. It's just that I walked in about the same time as the delivery guy did and convinced him to let me take it up to you," he explained.
I took a seat too. "Really? How?"
Another grin found its way onto Max's lips. "Well, you'll never guess who the delivery guy was!"
Max failed to give me time to actually guess. I have a feeling the concept of the game was lost to him.
"It was Joseph!"
I gasped a little. "And the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat?" I asked excitedly, surprising us both.
Max blinked, and so did I. We both turned to the television, which was rolling the credits to Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat. I guessed that's what I had been watching.
Max shook his slowly. "No, no. Joseph as in the SAINT SHIELDS, Joseph," he said steadily.
I cleared my throat in embarrassment. "Yeah, I know," I mumbled.
Max blinked once more before laughing good-naturedly, causing a smile to befall my lips.
"Yeah, I guess he and the rest of them are all trying to hold down jobs to pay their way through school." Max said.
I began to sift through the brown bag and pulled out my various orders. Automatically, Max began to help.
"Woah, Joseph as a delivery boy. That's weird, but what about pay?" I asked, suddenly remembering that I hadn't had a chance to do that.
Max waved it off as he began to dig into one of the pasta dishes. I didn't mind, as it was something we had done often.
"Well, after I saw that the food was for you, I covered it 'cause I knew I'd be helping you eat it," Max said, and he winked at me.
I smiled and began on my own dish. With noodles still occupying my mouth, I decided to ask Max my OTHER, more important question. "So then, that explains why my FOOD is here, but um, what about you?"
At my question, Max's face took on an expression of uneasiness. I knew why he was at my apartment. I shouldn't have even asked him. With a sigh (something I'd been doing a lot), I gulped down a few more flavorful bites of pasta before setting down my utensils. Max's blue eyes met with mine, and we stared at one another for some time in silence. Soon, his gaze slipped from me and began meandering around the room.
"Max," I started tentatively.
The blonde looked at me in response my summoning.
"Are you . . . okay?" I queried.
He shrugged. "I'm . . . a girl is DEAD, Rei. I didn't know her, but I saw her last night. I guess I'm sort of in a state of shock."
I was sympathetic toward his confession of his feelings. It was still odd to me that someone who I had just seen the previous night could be non- existent . . . that poor girl.
"I know, it's terrible," I agreed.
I watched steadily as his silverware began swirling his food aimlessly around the container. He propped his chin up on his free, fisted hand and seemed to concentrate on his task. Then, quite suddenly, he looked up at me, those azure eyes glistening with concern.
"But . . . what about you, Rei? I mean, you were with that guy and now that he's missing and a suspect . . ." Max simply chose to trail off, knowing that he did not have to continue further.
"I'm going through a paranoia period. I'm wary of leaving the apartment. It's just so weird. How could all of this have happened?" I asked absently.
Max slurped some noodles. "I just hope they catch that Lake guy and everything turns out okay," he said honestly.
I nodded. "What'd you tell Mou?"
Max made a face of disapproval, and I couldn't suppress a chuckle. Apparently, he had received the same 'royal' treatment as I had.
"I couldn't tell her much. I practically spent the entire night at the table."
I shrugged. He had a point. Another question, one on the lighter side, struck me. "So, did you sign that blade for her son?" I asked.
Max grinned. "Yup! Wasn't that cool? I never would have expected her to be a mom."
"My thoughts precisely," I said.
After that, the conversation became lighter and jesting. We had spent many an hour talking like that in the past, and I was relieved to find that the case hadn't affected that routine.
We spoke long into the night about school and less important matters, but comfortable conversations have a strange habit of giving people a false sense of security. The moment you believe yourself to have reached that point when no negativity or uneasiness can come, you find yourself more than shocked when it, oddly enough, DOES.
"So when did Tyson leave your place?" I asked.
Max shoved his emptied dish aside, having long ago relinquished what it had held. "He left around one, I think."
"So what did you guys do while he was there?"
The blonde shrugged. "Played some video games, talked, just whatever."
I noticed his reply was uncharacteristically timid. With an arched eyebrow and my infamous curiosity, I suggestively queried, "Was that ALL?"
He squirmed in his seat, suddenly finding the tabletop extremely fascinating. I grinned devilishly, for I knew I had stumbled upon something, shall we say, juicy? Or perhaps to sound as an intellectual, I had located a probable new development in the theoretically possible relationship between subjects A and B, informally known as Tyson and Max. Heh, Einstein, eat your hear out.
"C'mon, Maxie. You and I don't keep secrets from each other," I persisted.
He fidgeted. "I . . . I know, Rei, but-"
"But nothing! You gotta tell me Max!"
He sighed. "Well, Tyson is trying out for this part in a play, and he asked me to help him with his lines, and I agreed . . . figured, ya know, why not? What could it hurt?"
"What play?" I asked.
"Well, it seems a bit predictable, but it was . . . Romeo and Juliet." Max answered reluctantly.
I almost laughed . . . almost. Instead, I urged him on with an interested stare and a kindly smile.
"He," Max began, but paused and his expression looked somewhat baffled. He unconsciously gnawed on his lip before continuing. "He was trying out for Romeo, which isn't exactly a surprise so, of course, I had to be Juliet. And he was saying his lines beautifully. For a while it was strictly reading. That was all, nothing more. He was reciting, and I was reading from the script. Then, something happened, I don't know how, or when, but I started to feel like he had stopped being Romeo, and he wasn't reciting those lines for Juliet. I felt like it was Tyson saying those things to . . . me." Max paused and looked up at me, those eyes so full of confusion and, dare I note, fear.
Despite his disposition at that moment, all I could do was cheer inside my head, for it had seemed like an eternity would pass before something happened between those two. I felt relieved, but Max was far from that feeling. So, outwardly, I smiled easily and placed a hand atop his. "Max," I said. "Maybe he WAS."
My blonde friend stared at me for a moment, completely still. Abruptly, he pulled his hand out from under mine and placed it in his lap. "He CAN'T." Max spoke the words sternly.
I was somewhat surprised by the reaction. I mean, call me a romantic, but once he had LEARNED of Tyson's feelings for him, he was supposed to figure out that he harbored feelings for Tyson. Then, with his heart filled with hope and joy, he was to run from my apartment, bursting forth into the night, climb into his noble chariot (Jag) and speed off so that he could throw himself into his new found love's arms and proclaim his everlasting, undying devotion and tender hearted care! . . . So I've been known to read a few romance novels. Sue me!
"Max, what do you mean, he can't?"
"He . . . he just can't. Tyson can't feel that way for me." Max persisted.
"Why NOT?"
Max gently shook his head and looked downward at . . .God knows what. His blonde bangs successfully shadowed his face, which is why I was so taken aback when he snapped his head upward and set a glazed, shimmering blue gaze on me. His hands climbed from his lap and rested on the table, but I couldn't help but notice how they trembled.
"Because . . . because I care about him too much to lose him!" He exclaimed.
Suddenly, he stood up, the chair screeching against the floor, and headed toward the door. I shook my head, ridding myself of my shock and gained my bearings enough to call out his name, begging him to stop, telling him that we could talk about it. He only paused briefly to look over one of his slender shoulders at me and replied, "There's not really anything to talk about . . . good night." And with those words, he left. And I was . . . alone in my apartment again, just . . . blinking in confusion.
It seemed odd that we could be talking so freely one moment and then upsetting one another the next. My head began to pound at those thoughts, for though my day had been crappy; the incident with my best friend seemed to officially make it shitty, which gave rise to the thought that upgrades aren't always a good thing. Shortly thereafter, I decided to screw the world and everyone in it, and I went to bed.
The next morning came as any other, though it was not the light pouring through my window that woke me as much as it was the nightmare I had had. Ever since I was young, the Elders would tell the children of our village a story of the olden days. Days when our kind flourished, when the humans and the neko-jins lived and worked together. The Elders told us that those times were happy for both races.
As a child, that part of the story always created a warm, sunny image of smiling people waving friendly greetings to one another, laughing, and chatting. It seemed as though the Elders saw the image too, because even at our tender ages, we could see cheery twinkling in their venerable eyes. And we would smile, and they would watch us, pausing so as to etch the image of our young faces in to their minds. They wished to hold fast to our smiles, for they would soon begin to finish their tale, and they knew that our happy expressions would dissipate.
Suddenly, the Elder's voices would get softer and lower, as if trying to be certain that no one but us would hear them. Those sparkling eyes would lose their luster, and their lips would become taut as they spoke.
They told us of outsiders who invaded the lands, looting, plundering, and raping their way through every defense. They were brutish armies who soon recognized the physical differences between the humans and the neko-jins, for all those years ago the discrepancies of our separate races were far more evident.
The invaders began capturing the neko-jins, forcing them into slavery, and segregating them from the humans, who were powerless to oppose the barbaric happenings. Suddenly, humans and neko-jins became fast enemies.
Time passed, as did dynasties and rulers, and with them came and went their policies and regulations. Neko-jins and humans interbred with one another, creating a race of neko-jin/human hybrids and the dominant race of pure humans. Peace fell over the lands again. The humans and neko-jins attempted to work side by side once again, but damage had been done and prejudices still remained.
After years of persecution and arguing on both race's sides, a wise leader of neko-jin descent stepped forward and led his people away from the humans. Once again, the races were segregated, but both groups of people were happy that way, for despite the fact that breeding had caused neko- jins to look more and more human, their blood was still different, and so were their pasts.
More time passed, and neko-jins became elusive creatures that were rarely spoken of. Soon, the old days of peace and war became forgotten, and neko- jins took a back seat in history, melting into the plains of mythology and lore. They reappeared to the world as humans, and nothing more. But they kept their heritage alive by way of mouth, believing strongly that a person was nothing without an ancestry.
Every time I heard that story, I would go home and dream that I was there, in the past, with my ancestors experiencing their pain and tears. Every dream was a nightmare, for I could always smell the blood of the slaughtered and hear vividly the screams of the abused. I would wake up sweating and frightened, as I did that morning.
For a time, I simply lay there in my sweat soaked sheets, breathing steadily and thinking back to my dream. It was a reoccurring one. I could recall every detail with a precision practically unheard of when it came to recalling one's dreams.
I felt my chest rise and fall, and I heard myself in taking breaths and letting them out slowly. My eyes were half-lidded, as I stared dazedly upward at the ceiling.
My hair stuck to my brow and my arms and legs, and it was, over all, an uncomfortable position, but I needed the time to regain myself. I needed time to forget those fiery images. So, time I took, and though I knew not how long I stayed in my bed, sprawled out and sweating, I did overcome the impact that the dream had on me. Eventually, I pulled myself out of bed and made my way to the bathroom, wherein I showered and brushed my teeth.
Upon emerging from the bathroom's steamy depths, I felt much better. The morning was a bright and sunny one, and I was clean and feeling refreshed.
With my hair wrapped securely in a towel, I wandered into the kitchen and made myself some oatmeal, as breakfast wasn't exactly my favorite meal of the day. In fact, if I ate at all in the morning, it was usually something light and filling enough to tide me over till lunch.
While slurping my breakfast, I turned on the television and watched the news.
I suppose it was and still IS an odd little fetish of mine. I simply have to start my day out with knowing about everyone else's business.
My eyes were glued with great devotion to the news anchor as he spoke with mock enthusiasm, making bad jokes with the weatherman, who chuckled absently, not really paying attention, as he obviously had his mind on the cute female reporter who was out in the field. Oh, but won't Weatherman be upset when he finds out that Cute Female Reporter has a thing for Bad Joke Cracking News Anchor, who will definitely feel awkward when he gets news of her attraction, because it's all to apparent that he and Political Analyst Lady have been going out for WEEKS!
. . . Hm . . . anyway . . .
Suddenly, the phone rang. I was much too enamored with my morning news soap opera drama to actually look at the phone as I picked it up. I merely felt around the counter until I found it, and then I proceeded to push buttons until it turned on. Eyes still on the television screen, I held the phone to my ear and took the spoon out of my mouth before saying, "Hello?"
"Morning, Rei!"
I recognized the cheery voice. "Hey, Tyson," I greeted.
Ah-ha! He couldn't hide it from THIS viewer. I saw the nasty look Weatherman gave to Bad Joke Cracking News Anchor!
It took me a minute to realize Tyson had said something.
"I'm sorry, what'd you say Tyson? I was . . . distracted for a second."
"I asked if you would tend to the dojo today," Tyson repeated.
"I guess, but isn't it Kai's day?"
"Yeah, but he's got some weird business school whatever deal going on, and he said he wouldn't be able to make it. Anyway, I've got those play try- outs today, and I'll probably be gone all day, because I've got class afterwards. So, you'll do it?"
I frowned as I saw Cute Female Reporter smile sappily at Bad Joke Cracking News Anchor. He simply wasn't good enough for her.
"Uh, yeah I'll take care of it," I answered.
"Great, thanks a bunch. See ya later!"
"Yeah, bye," I said quickly, and hung up.
It was later, when I was tending to my time consuming hair, that I thought that MAYBE, just maybe . . . I should stop reading so much into the news. Most of those people were married anyway . . .
Ah, sweet uneventful morning, meaning mine was until about ten A.M. when it became my personal revelation that my promise to Tyson had to be kept. Shortly after the great revelation, I threw on a light jacket over my navy blue, cotton t-shirt, which served as a nice partner to my jeans and tennis shoes. I was still a little unhappy though, for my hair had failed to dry completely, therefore causing me to disregard the thought of putting it up in its usual white binding. Instead, the dark locks were pony-tailed mid- way down my back.
The sacred chain of keys that spent most of its time in my presence were slipped into their usual spot within the sanctities of my jacket pocket, and I then glanced around the apartment to make certain everything was off. The only thing that wasn't was the computer, which may or may not have received a poignant glare from me. I decided to ignore the piece of equipment. We were just . . . having relationship problems.
Finally, the much-awaited journey to the dojo began with my opening, stepping out, and over all closing and locking of the door. From there I traveled to the lobby and was disappointed to find that Sam wasn't on duty right then. It was some other guy, a younger man. I wasn't certain how much I appreciated him. He simply stood there, leaning against the wall, brown eyes staring blankly at the OPPOSITE wall. However, I decided I would at least ATTEMPT to be pleasant. So, with a smile, my hand lifted upward in the typical waving gesture, and I said, "Good morning."
His eyes pulled themselves reluctantly away from the 'awe inspiring' opposite wall, and he merely nodded stiffly at me. I passed by him quickly and exited the building. That kind of greeting angered me. It was what could be described as a 'Kai' greeting, and that was one of the things that bothered me about the Russian. Was it so hard to be friendly?
The sun outside shone brightly and felt good on my skin. I had always loved lying out in the sun, stretching, sleeping, just closing my eyes and reveling in its warmth. Back in the village it had been a favorite pass- time of mine as well as many of the other villagers. And the hills at home were always green and moist from the underlying soil. They made for perfect sun basking spots, but there, in the city, the sun's blissful rays had to sneak beyond the barriers of the tall, gray buildings and skyscrapers. It saddened me, at times, that city dwellers so often took nature for granted . . . it saddened me that I was no longer able to spend time curled up on fluffy patches of green grass, the sun on my form, surrounded by my own kind and Mother Earth's sweet, sweet songs.
I sighed quite audibly as I walked to the parking lot and located my red Camero. My magic keys unlocked the door, allowing me entrance, and they were even nice enough to start the car for me. Naturally, I put the car in gear and pulled out of the lot. Destination: La propiedad de Tyson!
. . . Hey, whattaya know. . . I CAN speak Spanish!
The drive to the dojo was nothing spectacular, so describing it would be a bit pointless. The point is simply that I GOT there.
I always felt a wave of peaceful calmness descend upon me when I climbed out of the car and took that first glance around the old place. It was a tranquil atmosphere. There, the sun COULD get through, and its brilliant light filtered through the translucent leaves of the trees, which were slightly agitated by a gentle, good-natured breeze. Birds sang freely for anyone who would listen, and I felt fortunate that I was one of those people who had the opportunity to hear their songs.
There was some work to be done around the place. The gardens needed to be weeded, and I had some interesting floral ideas floating around in my head. I didn't imagine Tyson would mind, for gardening wasn't exactly his forte. Actually, carpentry wasn't his forte either, which meant that I would probably have to go in and check for damage to the house. Ty may have lived, eaten, and slept there, but that was about it, although, he DID do dishes and cook his own meals, and I could account for a few times when he made his own bed. Ah, yes, now THOSE were days to mark down on the calendar. He was lucky that the dojo held sentimental importance to us all, and that we were kind, good friends who didn't want to see him living in a pitched tent on the site of a collapsed house.
I yawned easily as I made my way into the house to grab some gloves. Some of those weeds could be thorny, and I had had my fair share of botanical wounds, thank you very much.
The sought after gloves were found tucked away under the kitchen sink. I smirked as I slid them on. Who would have imagined Tyson would go for pink? Ah, well, they would do. Personally though, I would have gone for a darker color so that the dirt wouldn't be as apparent.
And I'm not GIRLIE . . . I just have a very volatile feminine side!
Anyway, I left the house, complete with gloves, and headed toward the back of the house. I thought I would start there and work my way to the front. So, once arriving in the shady back yard, I got to my knees and positioned myself as comfortably as was possible. From there, the work began, my protected hands yanking out gnarled, unwanted plants and grasses. Some did have thorns and the gloves could not protect me from every one of them, but the pain was less severe than if I had not had them.
Such work was always fairly therapeutic, as it gave my mind time to wander without interruptions. Allowing my mind to simply go without restraints was a favorite pass-time. I absently hummed to unknown tunes or whistled, or simply stayed quiet listening to everything around me. I pondered everything from the simplicities of my future flower arrangements to the complexities of the proper place of religion in society.
So wrapped up in my thoughts, I didn't even hear the footsteps that drew near to me. I only figured out that my presence was not the only one when I felt a sharp tug on my hair; I'll admit, it frightened me. I gasped, and whipped around, only to find myself face to face with an amused looking Kai.
"Jesus, Kai!" I exclaimed.
He said nothing, which was expected. I took a moment to regain my composure before wiping a gloved hand across my slightly dampened brow. "What are you doing here? Tyson said you were at class."
Kai's eyes seemed to concentrate on my pink gloves, and one of his eyebrows rose. I just shrugged in response and waited for an answer.
"It was canceled. I had hoped to make it here before Tyson called someone else, but obviously, I failed."
I smiled. "Doesn't mean your help couldn't be used. I haven't been in to inspect the house yet, but I can guarantee it has problems."
Kai nodded slightly. "Fine, I guess I'll start in there," he said and walked off.
I turned back to my own business. My thoughts, however, were less scattered, for now they centered on only one subject, and it was Kai. Our conversation had been as light as it ever had. Nothing had changed between us. There was nothing awkward about seeing him, and his eyes had appeared as still and stoic . . . just like they usually were. It seemed odd that there would be no altercation in our relationship, and yet it felt right . . . that I felt nothing deeper for him.
I sighed in content and continued my work.
Naturally, as the morning wore on and noon approached, the sun grew much hotter, causing me to have to remove my jacket. It didn't take too much more time for me to finish weeding the garden on both sides of the house. Soon, I was free to abandon my chore and give my attention to my parched tongue. I headed inside the house, heart set on the kitchen, to get a drink. However, a discordant pounding broke the peaceful atmosphere, also succeeding scaring the living hell out of me. I then remembered that Kai was there and deducted that he was doing some much needed carpentry somewhere. With the mystery solved, I continued to the kitchen where I removed my lovely gloves.
Once at the destination, my hands busied themselves with rummaging through the refrigerator where I found two empty cartons of orange juice, a half drunken can of pop, some VERY old milk, a single glass of water, a jar of peanut butter with the lid off and the knife still inside, as well as what appeared to be the STARTINGS of sandwich that may have had peanut butter involved, and many other oddly placed, assorted items.
Giving up completely on the refrigerator, I moved to the freezer wherein I came upon some Popsicles, and ice cream bars, a few T.V. dinners, ice, and other things that generally go into a freezer. If I didn't count the bowl of frozen popcorn, Tyson's FREEZER contents were relatively normal.
After that adventure, I took to the cabinets and found some powdered lemonade drink mix. I shrugged, grabbed a pitcher, poured in the powder, and added water. I stirred it, poured it into two cups, dunked some ice into the cups, and picked the glasses up. Then, I headed out to locate Kai, figuring he would be thirsty too, although bringing him lemonade seemed just a LITTLE on the cliché side.
I followed the sound of the pounding, wincing slightly as I drew nearer, for it somewhat agitated my sensitive ears.
"Kai!" I called as I came upon. He was on the wooden walkway that separated the house and the dojo, obviously fixing some of the floorboards. He didn't hear me at first, which gave me time to observe him. A slim, yet toned body covered by baggy blue jeans and a gray tank top that had once been concealed under a blue over shirt and, completing the outfit, were black sneakers.
I smirked to myself. There was SO much more than what met the eye.
"Kai," I said again.
That time, he ceased his hammering, much to my relief, and looked over at me with those crimson eyes. Smiling, I approached him and proffered him one of the glasses of lemonade.
"It's getting hot, you want some?"
His features looked bemused at first, but he shrugged and accepted the glass. I sighed as I sipped at the beverage, and watched out of the corner of my eye as Kai sipped his. For a while, it was silent, and that was okay with me, but I got antsy rather quickly for no reason that I could think of.
"Wanna go for a walk up to the shrine?" I asked suddenly, surprising both Kai and myself.
Naturally, he didn't respond right away, but his answer I awaited patiently, for his ways were well known to me.
"I suppose," he answered.
"Okay." And with that, I started walking off, him by my side.
We began the familiar path toward the shrine. Shade was provided by the rows of trees on either side of the cobblestone walkway, and a soft breeze played lightheartedly with strands of my dark hair.
"Rei," Kai spoke abruptly.
I glanced over at him. "Hm?"
"The other night wasn't--"
"Anything," I interrupted.
He stared over at me, surprised, and then nodded stiffly. "I . . . didn't want you to think that . . ." Kai trailed off, knowing well I understood him.
I stopped walking, and so did he. We faced one another, and I spared a moment to take a drink from my lemonade. "I'm not really into commitments anyway, Kai. It wasn't anything to me, either," I assured him but had to grin. "Nothin' but fun," I added.
Kai smirked and nodded yet again. We stood there in (you guessed it) silence. And then, he moved closer. I watched his eyes carefully, and interestedly observed a slight shadow of lust slip into his stoic orbs, giving them a certain spark, a life of which I had only seen once before. It was invigorating, and I could feel my body tingle in anticipation.
He slipped a hand behind my neck and his fingers crawled into bury themselves in my hair, massaging my scalp. He touched his lips to mine. It was light and deceptively chaste feeling, for soon the kiss deepened. His tongue began sliding along my lower lip, demanding entrance to my mouth, a request I answered quickly by granting him passage. Soon, that smooth tongue was exploring, ravaging every cavern in my mouth, and I kissed him back excitedly. My body wanted to feel the sensations of the previous night.
Kai's free hand slid down my back and wasted little time in getting under my shirt. I gasped a little, causing us to break the kiss. Panting, Kai leaned his forehead against mine, his eyes having grown fiercer.
"You're mine," he whispered possessively.
My mind took offence at the statement, but my body could've cared less. Anyway, it wasn't the real Kai that had said it. It was . . . something else that I didn't think he could fully control. Still, my pride didn't allow me completely disregard it. I merely smirked darkly and grabbed his exploring hand, guiding it lower and lower until his fingertips had breached the rim of my jeans. I licked his lips tauntingly and said silkily, "For now."
At that, Kai captured my lips in another deep, passionate kiss. He worked my shirt over my head and tossed it . . . somewhere. From there, it just . . . happened. Somehow, we managed to move into the grassy area behind a conveniently placed bush and began an epic adventure of extreme pleasure and discomfort, for we found out that Mother Nature is not merciful to the naked man.
A while later, we came out from behind the bush, rumpled and disarrayed from our excursions, and I believe we decided that there were better places we could do things like that, or at least, someone would have to bring a blanket the next time.
Not much else was said between us, for we each parted ways. I took the glasses to the kitchen, and Kai went to finish his work. Shortly thereafter, my stomach began to grumble. Kai, with perfect timing, asked if I wanted to go get some food, not an unusual question when it was just he and I. Agreeing, he said we could take his car. So, away we went to dine.
It was a nice meal, quiet, but pleasant. I did a majority of the talking, and Kai did a majority of the listening and that's simply how it played out. Evening came upon us much faster that I expected. I grew tired and it became dark. Deciding I would pick up my car the next day, I asked Kai if he would just give me a ride home. Naturally, he agreed and dropped me off at my building.
I watched him leave before I went inside, chatting casually with Sam before heading upstairs to my apartment. It was when I got to my door that I realized I didn't have my jacket, which meant I didn't have my KEYS. Sighing, I realized I had 'oh so intelligently' left my jacket at Tyson's. I'd pick it up when I went to get my car the next day, presumably after class. As for getting into my apartment, I could do one of two things: climb in through the fire escape or get the spare keys from Sam. Hm . . . choices.
P.S. I don't own Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat either, but if you liked or disliked the randomness of THAT particular part, the credit goes to my good buddy, Lonely Wanderer! Ja!