Summary: Yoh's inattentiveness results in the ruination of one of Anna's most treasured possessions. On the rainiest, most insipid morning he's seen in years, will inspiration finally strike him and atone for his error?
Written: In about 4 hours on 8/5 and 8/6/07.
Rating: T for romantic themes.
Notes: The epigraph for this story is quoted from the song "Umbrella" by Rihanna featuring Jay-Z. The music and lyrics are not my property and were used without permission. On another note, of all the stories here so far, this one was the most fun to write. I'm not sure why, really. Probably just because I was able to quote a lame song like "Umbrella" and work it into a fairly decent story…Anyway, enjoy!
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"Took an oath, I'm a-stick it out to the end. Now that it's raining more than ever, know that we'll still have each other. You can stand…"
Under My Umbrella
Kiss #5
The sizzle of frying cooking oil, along with the dull background noise of pouring rain, echoed through the kitchen where Yoh stood before the stove, paying only vague attention to the eggs he was noncommittally poking with a spatula. He made breakfast every morning, a mundane routine that gave him plenty of time to think, even if he was usually so drowsy that most of his thoughts involved the comfort and warmth of his bed, and the sleep he could be having…
A drop of hot cooking oil landed on his arm with a sizzle, clearing his mind of any fantasies of returning to bed. "Yowch!"
A brisk voice from behind him spoke. "Sheesh, Yoh, I haven't even slapped you yet. A little jumpy today, are we?"
"Ah--good morning, Anna."
"Same to you," she replied in a less than amiable tone. "I hope you changed the oil after you cooked the bacon, you know I can't stand eggs with a meaty off-taste."
Yoh gulped, but recovered quickly, scooping the eggs onto a plate. "No, but it's no problem…I'll eat these I just cooked, and I'll make you a fresh batch."
"I knew it! You just can't do anything right, can you?!"
"No, Anna," he replied with a sigh, "I think we've both established a long time ago that I'm a screw-up."
"Just a 'screw-up'? Let me show you something, mister, and we'll see if 'screw-up' even begins to describe what you did yesterday…" she menaced as she stalked out of the room.
"I wonder what I did this time," he muttered, cracking eggshells against the side of his frying pan. "She seems grumpier than usual, and that's really saying something…"
Behind him, Anna slammed a half-full laundry basket onto the kitchen table. He gave a start and nearly dropped his spatula, but took a quick breath and turned around.
"Yoh," Anna said through clenched teeth in a nearly hysterical tone of forced pleasantness, "I don't recall ever buying pink socks. Or pink skirts. Or pink tops. Or, for that matter, pink panties." Despite the maelstrom he knew he was about to enter, Yoh felt himself pink slightly at Anna's mention of her undergarments… "So perhaps you can explain to me why every formerly white article of clothing in this load of laundry, now looks like something you'd find in a department store bargain bin the week after Valentine's Day?"
"I…er…" Uh-oh, he thought as comprehension began to dawn upon him. There had been something red on top of the laundry yesterday, but he had forgotten about Anna's special instructions…
"It doesn't take Martha Stewart to figure out," Anna continued as though Yoh hadn't even tried to formulate an answer, "that maybe a red article of clothing somehow made it into the washing machine. Call me crazy, but I think I might have given you a something red to wash yesterday…" She made an exaggerated gesture around her forehead. "Along with some special instructions. Remember? Something along the lines of, 'Yoh, my headscarf needs to be hand washed in cold water with a mild soap.' Ring any bells?"
"Um…"
"Look at it!" she burst out, tugging out her headscarf from beneath a few pairs of stained socks. "You ruined it! I can't be seen wearing this." She tied it behind her head hastily, the folds of cloth sweeping down her back violently, an extension of Anna's anger.
Yoh looked Anna over, her trademark vibrant red bandana-like fashion accessory now faded to a delicate pink. It definitely brought out the smoothness of her skin, and the tenderness she so rarely displayed… "Actually, Anna," he said truthfully, "I think it suits you. It's cute!"
"Well, forget it. I don't do pink. And I certainly don't do cute." She doffed the headscarf, balled it up, and flung it in Yoh's direction.
He caught it, but didn't quite know what to say, so he tried his best: "I…I'm really sorry, Anna. Maybe I can cut back a little on food or something, and buy you a replacement?"
Anna put a hand on her own chest, picking up one of the strands of beads on her chest. "A replacement? When your grandmother gave me these beads years ago," she explained, her voice now oozing with a restrained, icy fury that sent chills up Yoh's spine, "they were wrapped in a silky red cloth. You're holding it now."
Yoh stared at Anna's back wordlessly as she stormed out of the room silently, leaving waves of anguish behind her.
"Anna, wait! I…I'm sorry, I…" But Yoh knew it was no use. Yoh put the pink cloth on the kitchen table and left it there for a second, but couldn't bear to leave it there, and folded it until it fit into his pocket. He felt an indescribable sense of unease, guilt and frustration as he hurriedly finished cooking, feeling no appetite, and left the kitchen dazed and afraid, torrents of rain still pounding the roof. Yoh thought dimly that it might be a good idea to take his umbrella with him for his morning run, and searched his room halfheartedly for it. He saw its majestic oak handle poking out from under his nightstand and retrieved it, kicking up layers of dust as he did so.
Suddenly feeling as though the house was stifling him, Yoh made his way outside and popped his umbrella open. Its canopy was truly gargantuan in size, nearly five feet in diameter, and he angled it carefully above his head to keep himself dry.
Gloom surrounded him as he jogged from the countryside into town. Walls of grey poured from the heavens, making usually sunny fields and clear streams drab and murky. The sun could not penetrate the thick, ominous clouds that choked the sky; all was bleak, and this seemed to complement Yoh's current mood uncannily.
Not often did Yoh waver from his usual insouciant attitude, but unlike the raindrops upon his umbrella, he could not shake off his own guilt and despondence. However one object in the muddled and depressing scene shone through with vermillion intensity, and it was in Yoh's hand. The pangs of guilt churning in the pit of his stomach intensified when he looked at it, as he noticed its color was almost exactly identical to the headgear Anna always seemed to be sporting. As it had been Anna's gift from Yoh's grandmother, so had the umbrella once been his grandfather's…
His feet had become numb and wrinkled from the cold rain, and although his heart raced with the exertion of running, he felt chilled to the very bones. The only warmth he felt came from his pocket, where he had stashed Anna's now pink headscarf, but it was a corrupted warmth, a humiliated warmth like the burning of a scarlet letter on his chest.
He realized gradually that, though he had unconsciously been picking up speed as though trying to run away from something, there was no escaping what he had to do. Once he decided to take action, he felt a kind of healthy fever surge through his frozen body, and he knew the usual, happy-go-lucky Yoh was returning to him…
I hope this works, he thought as he slowed his pace, squinting through the rain to orient himself. There's the 8-Twelve convenience store, I think…so that should be the copy shop next to it, and then…Yes, there it is! The tailor!
"I'm not even sure what I'm going to do yet, but I'm sure it'll all work out somehow," he whispered to himself with a sly grin. He collapsed the crimson umbrella closed and shook it as dry as he could before walking into the tailor's shop…
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Drenched, cold, and sputtering, like a sailor in the flotsam of a shipwreck, Yoh called out through the downpour, "Anna, I'm home!" He carried the umbrella in his left hand and a white parcel in his right, both objects hidden behind his back. He received no acknowledgment, and called again, "Anna, could you please bring me a towel? I don't want to drip all over the floor."
At that, he heard movement from inside. A minute later, the front door swung open and a white towel attacked his face. Yoh did his best to sop up the water from his dripping hair and legs with one hand while holding his belongings in the other. Anna merely glared at him as he did so, but he knew things could have been worse: At least she wasn't denying his existence.
Yoh slung the damp towel over his shoulder, with Anna continuing to glare at him, and he felt apprehensive, his soaked shirt clinging to his chest and back like a coiled snake, constricting him. Finally Anna spoke, in a tone that was neither angry nor resentful, but at the same time overwhelmingly glacial. "Yoh, you're the only person in the world who could manage to get so drenched while holding an umbrella the size of a circus tent."
"Anna, I know I messed up," he said, for now that Anna had broken the silence, words had rushed into his mind and began spilling out his lips. "I know nothing can replace the keepsake I ruined, and what it means to you…"
Her face remained stoic but her arms uncrossed from her chest, perhaps subconsciously.
"…So I hope you can accept this as a gesture of my sincere apology," he finished, extending his arm and presenting Anna with the white parcel.
She accepted it, perhaps a little more roughly than was necessary, and nodded curtly. "You're right, Yoh. My headscarf was very precious to me, but I guess I'll need a replacement. Thanks. Now you better take a shower. You run tomorrow whether you're sick or not." She was about to turn away when she suddenly realized, "Wait a second. I didn't give you any money…How did you get this?"
"Aha, well…I went to the tailor in town," he began. "I showed him this," and Yoh pulled out the carefully folded pink cloth from his pocket, "and said I wanted another one made, just like it, but in red."
Anna took up the parcel in earnest now, began digging her fingernails into the wrapping, wanting to see the replacement headscarf… "And he did it for free?"
"Uhh…I told him what it was for, and he said something like, 'Hey, I can't turn away a young man in love,' and he started showing me all these cloth samples to see what color I wanted. But then I thought, I need to make something with real sentimental value, not just something with no history or meaning to it…So I made up my mind on which cloth to use--"
"This feels familiar…smooth, resilient, thin…In fact it almost feels like the cloth from your--But you didn't, you couldn't have, your grandfather gave it to you--but then it would explain why you're soaked…"
And to finish his tale, Yoh produced his umbrella now, sweeping it from behind his back. It rustled as its bare metal joints and rods collided with each other, and the whole thing vaguely resembled a robotic hand; even collapsed, and without its canopy, it looked majestic. Anna gaped at it for a few seconds, comprehension registering in her absolutely shocked expression, and then--
The skeletal umbrella clattered to the floor with a metallic swish as Anna charged him with passion, wrapping his moist body in her arms. Yoh felt the chilliness in his body evaporate from the affection that radiated from his fiancé, an aura of warmth that also melted her normally icy demeanor. Yoh plucked the new bandana from its perch around Anna's arm, tied it snugly about her forehead, and smoothed out its wrinkles.
"So, what do you think?" she asked, shifting the knot slightly and favoring Yoh with a pose.
"Beautiful," he said, smiling sheepishly as he felt a new, slightly embarrassed heat invade his cheeks, "and the new headscarf isn't bad either."
"Oh, Yoh…" The long, vibrant ruff of Anna's new headscarf flashed fiercely as her hands drew Yoh's head nearer to meet hers halfway. Her lips found his and grazed them, pressed upon them, gently but passionately, the same way her hands were warming up the back of his soaked shirt. He was taken by surprise, but relaxed, leaning into her slightly, feeling the skirt of her new headgear rub against the tops of his hands. Her tongue found his, thanked him for all he had done without speaking a word, and Yoh, ever the gentleman, did not deny the accolade…
Slowly their lips parted, and Yoh peered down to Anna, his gaze gentle yet exuberant. Anna, however, was looking back and forth between the incomplete umbrella and pink headscarf, and he knew what she was thinking…
"Oh, no…"
"What?" she asked defensively, though she sounded playful rather than offended. "It'd be cute!"
"Sorry," he replied with a knowing smile, "I don't do pink. And I certainly don't do cute."
"Not for you, silly! I'll make it…and then, maybe, when it's raining more than ever, you can…you know…you can stand under my umbrella."
Yoh smiled. "I like it, but you forgot one thing."
"What's that?"
"It's my frame, but your headscarf. It's our umbrella. And we can stand under it together, even when there's no end to the storm in sight. And even if we both don't do pink."
It was Anna's turn to smile now, and they looked into each other's eyes, grinning, feeling an aura of warmth, of passion, of heat, even as the rain continued to pour…
