"Ah, welcome, I had hoped that you would come," he calls as he opens the door and waves me inside. "I mean, not that I wanted to pressure you into coming against your will when I called! You should have refused, poor girl, if you didn't want to come, because then I wouldn't have made such a pathetic dinner for you!"
I take a breath after that outburst, ready to deny it, but the moment of quiet passes. As he continues to apologize, I remove my shoes and move into the next room.
"I don't mean that I made you a pathetic dinner, of course! I tried my hardest to make something pleasing for you, but I failed and now it is useless and without taste. This humble person begs forgiveness for his shortcomings!"
I stop just inside the room and watch as he all but dances around the room, worrying and cleaning up nonexistent dust. "There isn't any need…"
"I'm sorry for presuming that you would want to eat with me! It's been so long since we have had a chance to talk pleasantly to each other, I had hoped… But you must have had something else planned! Naturally you would cancel everything else and come, since you are a very kind person, but maybe you were going to go to a party!"
I raise my hands, trying to calm him down. "No, nothing like-"
He wraps me in a hug and begins spinning around, crying and singing. "I'm so, so, sorry for making you miss your party! I'm sure it would have been fun, with lots of presents and noisemakers and cake that would taste so much better than what I made!"
Where is the place that was shown to me? I reach out with my left hand, pressing hard on his side. He stops, mouth open, and hesitates a moment before sinking semi-gracefully to the floor. When my feet touch wood, I remain standing, but he seems to be dead asleep.
He always seems to anticipate admonition. I wish, even though I try not to, that I could know to apologize any time that I did anything wrong. Perhaps he overdoes it, but, still… If I know when I have done something wrong, I can beg forgiveness and then You won't hate me as much.
I stay where I am for a moment, puzzled over what I should do. I walk into the next room, where a veritable feast is sitting on four trays. Is this what he has prepared for us? I lift one of the large platters and struggle under the weight into the next room. Once it is on the table, I look back at him, where he is beginning to show signs of waking.
I kneel, the fancier-than-usual - it's down to my ankles - dress draping over my legs and folding on the floor. "Are you alright?" I whisper, trying not to disturb his sleep, if he still is, in fact, sleeping. "I'm sorry for pressing your side."
His eyes slide open slowly, but, when he sees me above him, he shoots into a sitting position. We bump foreheads, and I fall backwards, mostly from surprise. He takes his feet quickly, and then offers his hand.
Not so much 'offers his hand' as 'takes my hand and pulls me up', really.
"Are you injured? Have I maimed you? Oh, this is all my fault! How can you ever forgive me?"
"It's not your fault," I say quickly, before he gets carried away again. "I'm happy to be here. Um, and, in the next room, there are still three of the trays of food…"
He looks horrified and rushes to get them, shouting about having made his esteemed guest work. While just one had made me strain myself, he carried three in one trip: one in each hand, and one balanced almost unconsciously on his head.
I rush to take the last from him, because he is known for accidents. "How do you do things correctly when you're not trying?" I asked out of curiosity. "I mean, you usually drop things, but not when something really matters."
"I don't think about it, actually," he smiles with kindness. "If I do, I end up getting nervous. But then, if I try that, I leave something out and get called a scatterbrain."
"I'm happy that you invited me," I say eventually, after we have started eating. "We are far apart age-wise, and we never talk at the Banquet, since our years aren't together…"
He swallows quickly, almost choking in his haste. "I will make sure to speak with you next time! If you're lonely, all you need to do is say something, and I will try my best to entertain you!"
"No, usually I talk to my best friend," I reassure him. "It's not as though I'm ever lonely."
"That's good," he murmurs. He takes another bite of his fish, chews, and swallows before he says, "But, still, talk to me at the Banquet. I do get lonely sometimes, because people think that I'm too rambunctious to be around very much."
I put my hand on his, and lean into his side. "I don't think that. I like that you know when you've made a mistake. I want to do that, too."
He looks down at me with surprise, then wraps his arm around my shoulders. I can smell the mothballs-and-silk scent of his kimono being masked by jasmine perfume. "Thank you for saying so, but you don't make mistakes as often as I do. You're perfect the way you are."
I know that it isn't true, You have told me so. Even though it's a lie, it makes me so happy to hear the words. Once something is spoken, it becomes true, in the same way a story is true.
"Thank you," I say, trying not to show that I'm holding back tears.
Soon, he begins to move away, but I grab his sleeve and hold his arm where it is.
"Can we stay like this for a little while longer?" I sob, unable to stop myself. "Can I believe it for a few minutes more, even though I know it's a lie?"
I start to weep as he leans his head against mine.
...I'm crying... Imean, even though I write sad things, I almost never actually cry. Love, love, love this character. I was so mean to him, in Akito's Love, too...
