AN: For the second time, we skip forward twenty-four-odd hours. And it's Ritchan-san's turn!
About the addresses… we don't get to see him interact with many people, so I've done the best I can with what he has said.
Dedication and Disclaimer: See first two chapters.
Modesty is the virtue of those who are deficient in other virtues.
- Stanislaus
Chapter Twelve
Present
My face could cook eggs.
I heard that expression from Shigure-niisan a while ago – in reference to Hatori-niisan, ironically enough – and it's stayed with me since. It usually applies.
I hate this, hate this so much that I dread it all year. I spend the months leading up to it in dread, the pit of my stomach never quite uncoiling.
Not the banquet. That's all right; I might even presume to look forward to it. Just the thirteen of us, with Aya-niisan to watch and Akito-sama in a good mood.
But these parties… they're so wonderful, beautiful and… and if only I didn't have to go. It's the second night of Sanga Nichi, and all I can think of is my horrible presumptuousness in disgracing this gathering with my presence.
I try to just stay out of everyone's way, hide in corners and shadows, but as I'm juunishi, "inside," I'm high-status and people keep feeling obligated to talk to me. Even outsiders know that certain among us are especially important to Akito-san, though I'm sure they can't imagine why I should be included…
But right now, no one is trying to inconvenience themselves by talking to me, and I can look. I do, at all of them. Ayame-niisan I gaze at longingly, especially. He's laughing and flirting, lighting up the room, and it never once crosses his mind that anyone does anything but love him, so of course it's true. He's on Hatori-niisan's arm, chattering away so that Hatori-niisan can be irritated in peace, without having to talk with anyone.
Akito-san is being saved the trouble of talking as well – Yuki-san and Shigure are being polite and witty for him, and anyone who gets past them has to face Haru-san's forbiddingly blank stare as he drifts between Yuki-san and Akito-sama.
Isuzu-san and Hiro-kun were making up their own battalion of glares earlier, but now Kisa-chan and Momiji-kun have joined them and there are far more smiles, if Isuzu-san looks more irritated than ever with Momitchi's antics. They form a circle, a bright one, but one which not many are daring to break into.
Kyo-san is glaring in a corner, his look fending off anyone who might try to approach him for any reason. Not that they would, because… well, he's the cat. He's a perfectly nice person, of course, if a bit… frustrated… but everyone knows they're not supposed to go near him. It's cruel to make him come, really.
But still, he has Kazuma-san and Gura-chan. They're talking to each other about Kagura-chan's performance lately and other innocuous things, almost as if they don't know he's there, but they stand just close enough to make plain their solidarity. If someone doesn't want to talk to Kyo, they needn't bother talking to them either.
But the one I really envy… Kureno-san isn't here.
A finger taps my shoulder lightly. "Excuse me, miss…"
I whirl, horrified that I've truly fooled someone, that they might realize their mistake and be embarrassed and it will be all my fault… only please don't let them know, let me just be a girl… But I turn too fast, my elbow catching a hand, and dark red wine spills down the young man's formal yukata.
"I AM SO SORRY! I'VE RUINED YOUR ENTIRE WARDROBE; YOU'LL HAVE TO BUY ANOTHER! THE COST WILL BEGGER YOU I APOLOGIZE FOR YOUR POVERTY YOU SHOULD PUNISH ME FOR MY WICKEDNESS –"
"No… no, it's fine…" the man is backing away rapidly, but I hardly notice, the ugliness inside me spilling over the only way it knows how until a hand clamps over my mouth.
I'VE MADE A SCENE FATHER WILL BE SO ANGRY IT'S ALL MY FAULT – and a hand pokes my side, everything going abruptly loose and hollow.
When my vision clears, Gure-niisan is holding me up, smiling and joking with my father, whose hand was the one over my mouth. People have regained enough composure to pointedly ignore us.
"… no trouble at all, really. Whatever would we do without some amusement at these functions?"
"Thank you for taking the time to control my child," Father says abasently, bowing repeatedly. "We are so grateful, and –"
"Don't blame him!" Mother's gotten here now, face pale and lined with the stress, hands clasped. "It is my fault for bringing him into this world; I should be punished for my unforgivable actions!"
"Ahhh… no, I forgive you," Shigure-niisan says gingerly, trying to control his grin. "But why don't you two return to your conversations and I'll just, ehem, see to Ritchan here."
I bury my face in my hands.
Cook eggs…I wish I could die, I really do, but I don't know what happens after. What if, with Akito-san here, there's nowhere to go and you just float…?
I'm not even making sense in my head.
I wish, as Shigure-niisan steers me into a corner, that he wouldn't snicker like that. They are my parents, after all. But he saved me, too, and if Father had gotten there on his own…
"There, now, Rit-chan. D'you want a glass of water or something to help you calm down?" He asks, settling me in a corner.
"No, thank you, Shigure-niisan, thank you so much but I just want to… do you think Akito-san would let me leave?"
"Ah, that's a difficult question, but I think it's safe to say… no. Not a chance. Never."
"You're right… I'm sorry, I'll just… stay here."
He contemplates me a moment, shakes his head in vague exasperation, and pats mine. "Okay then. I'll see you afterwards."
He disappears back into the crowd on his way to Akito-san, and my gaze drifts back to my parents. Father is soothing Mother, his eyes gentle.
She gets so sick… If only I could stop making it worse. He tries to take care of her, but I only make their burden heavier.
I finger my kimono's sleeves dejectedly, trying not to think of what I've just done, and wonder… Could it have been worse? What if I had worn men's clothes? How could I possibly have done worse?
Eleven Years Earlier
I flinch as I tie my obi over bruises on my ribs, gained when I tripped over my own feet a few days ago, causing everyone trouble.
And wince again as I move my arm, the bruises there worse. If only I could stop making Mother sick, so Father wouldn't have to be so angry…
It's morning on our second day here, possible the worst time of the year. I have all the freshly mortifying memories of the first half of our stay, and the unbearable weight of the other half looming over me still, and worst of all the fact that it's happening now.
Still, though, it's a beautiful morning and everyone is free to wander as they please for most of the day. I won't have to see anyone, then.
I wore boy's clothing for the parties, at least, but that… didn't end well. And now I just need to hide for a while, hide behind a dress.
People make so many assumptions based on gender. A boy has to be strong and sure and brave, a girl can be weak and uncertain and afraid. It may be a game, survival of the fittest, but no one minds if a girl wants to sit out her turn. It's lauded as self-sacrifice, noble, even.
As if I could ever lay claim to such a title.
But still… a demure, modest, unassuming girl can be those things, and no one pays it any mind.
No one cares.
I tie back my hair and make myself look in the cabinet mirror, to be sure there are no flaws other than the ordinary to burden anyone who should see me with, and then I settle onto a windowsill to read.
I won't go out of my room in this, not in the Main House. My father expressly forbade it. Ren-sama might be displeased and that… would be bad.
I think she knows I do this; she seems to know most things and it's not a secret, precisely. I just keep it away from the family at large because it's easier for them not to have to face it.
I smooth my skirt over my knees, not letting myself crumple the material at the thoughts that race through my mind.
No. Don't think about grades, or sports, or Mother… just be.
Or rather, don't be.
I open my book, ready to lose myself between the covers and forget. Which is when my doors snap open.
I jump, heart stuttering and a hand clapped to my chest.
Who would…?"Ritsu." Akito-san is like a black hole, somehow, leeching the light from the room, and it's still brighter with the small boy in here.
I've seen how the younger ones act around him, and I think he's different toward them. Won't show them weakness, won't be human. But I've also seen him with us older ones, and with Kagura-chan, who's only a few months younger. I've seen him cry when he thinks no one but Gure-nii, Hatori-niisan, or Kureno-san can see him, and with Kagura-chan and I, I've seen him laugh.
Right now, he opens his mouth to say something and stops, brow wrinkling. "Ritsu," he repeats, voice smothered behind a hand, "…what are you wearing?"
…Oh.
"AKITO-SAMA I AM SO SORRY FOR EXPOSING YOU TO THIS SHAMEFUL INDECENCY AT SUCH A TENDER AGE! NOT THAT ANY AGE IS FIT FOR SUCH ABERRATIONS –"
The smack whips my head to one side. It isn't particularly forceful, but coming from a seven-year-old… and the look in his eyes…
That's why they're afraid of him.
He smiles, and it's almost worse. I slide from my seat to kneel before him, dropping my head into my hands, but he tangles his fingers in my hair, lifting my face to meet his eyes. "Why," he says very gently, "are you wearing a kimono?"
"Um… Akito-san, be – because it makes me feel more… calm? I, I, I know how awful it is and I try to stop but –"
"Why?"
"I – don't understand." I rub my eyes clear and continue to look down. I can't meet his eyes, can't stand his scorn.
"Why do you try to wear other things?" He frowns contemplatively, absently straightening his yukata at the shoulder. "Why do you try to be better than you are?"
"To… to make my parents happy… they deserve a better son than I am, and I want to be that son and make them proud, I do."
I know his eyes are narrowing from the way his fingers coil tighter. "So…" he muses, and I can see the words drifting into his world as he makes them a part of it. "You feel that you need to change… for them? They make you feel that way?"
I blink, unnerved, trying to meet magnetic eyes that make you see things from where he is.
It isn't a pretty view.
"N – no, of course not, it's not like that…"
His face relaxes into a smile, fingers releasing my hair. It slips, pulled from its tie, down around my face as he runs his fingers over my eyes and cheeks.
"All right, Ritsu." His tone is that of someone humoring a child. "But whatever it's 'like' with your parents, would you like to know what it's like with me?"
"Ah, y – yes, Akito-san, of course."
He sinks into my lap, curling against my chest and making me a safe place. "I love you, Ritsu. And you don't have to wear those ugly jeans and shirts around me anymore." He strokes the silk on my shoulder, face close enough to give butterfly kisses. "You're not going to change, Ritsu, and you needn't waste my time by trying."
"…Yes, Akito-san. Whatever you like."
"Yes," he says simply. His smile melts, innocent and adorable, and he picks up my dropped book. "Read to me."
"Oh. Of – of course. I mean, are you sure there isn't something else you'd rather read…?"
"This will do." He glances at the cover. "Pick up where you left off."
I do, skimming for my place and apologizing for making him wait. I wish I was reading something more suitable for him.
" 'Consequently,'" I resume, " 'Ermengarde spent the greater part of her life in disgrace or in tears.'"
As I read, though I think… No, I don't need to try for him. I don't need to aspire, or strive, or anything. I'll never be better, never be anything, and that isn't good.
" 'She learned things and forgot them; or if she remembered them she did not understand them.'"
But it's nice to just let myself go.
AN: I am aware there is no such word as "abasently," but there should be. Unless someone else knows an adverb form of "abase"?
Anyone know what Ritsu was reading? I'll tell if anyone wants to know; I just wondered if anyone recognizes it. I'd offer a reward, but I can't think of anything… an unnamed, within-reason favor?
The "…no. Not a chance. Never." is quoted from Angel. I'm including the conversation down at the bottom for fun.
I think this was kind of long, and I didn't mean to play favorites – I cut Kureno off for this very reason – but they just get longer from here on in. Heh – for the two chapters left.
Okay, and feedback! Must have. I'm so insecure about Ritsu. I love him, of course. But... Any way I could write him better… Anything specific I screwed up…
Fred: So, now that she's alive again, are they ever going to get back together? Angel and the girl with the goofy name?
Wesley: Well, Fred. That's a difficult question. I think it's safe to say… no. Not a chance. Never. No way. Not in a million years. And also… never.
--Angel, "Fredless"