STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY: Anything else I were to write in this space would be too redundant. Standard disclaimers apply, and, think about it, why wouldn't they?
Quick little message from author: Chapter 23 bugged me like mosquitoes. Not only did classes start soon after my previous post – an event that, in my life is, in consuetudinary terms, a biannually unparalleled tragedy – but, shortly thereafter my grandmother – whom I never had the greatest of relationships with – passed away. I'm not sure if anyone noticed, but Chapter 22 was dedicated to all grandmothers, being that my own was incurably ill. Consequentially, I found my academic and personal life catching up with me and suppressing sudden bouts of genial inspiration. Lame jokes like the first liner of this AN became a daily occurrence. After finally finding some time to sit down and get my butt in gear, interruptions were nothing but scarce: silly university projects, lame outings with friends – I hate cheap bars where people drink beer in plastic cups and eighties music is, generally, a big fat no-no for me! I'm sorry, I am high maintenance! –, accompanying a friend's mom to the hospital when she suffered an allergic reaction, accompanying my own sister to the hospital when she swelled up because of an allergic reaction, taking care of my mom's worsening cold, my sister's boyfriend calling claiming that there was a surprise at the door and the surprise turning out to be him – some of you might think it romantic; personally, I call that not thinking things through! You do not visit your girlfriend out of the blue, on a rainy day and expect her and her family to be out of their pajamas and with non-frizzy hair! – and a thousand other tiny incidents not worth mentioning. Despite all obstacles, however, I managed to pull through and this, my friends, is the fruit of my labor. Savor it. More Misao and Aoshi moments to come. Peace out. Oh, before I forget, happy Easter! Also, I update my profile on occasion and provide a bit of information on upcoming chapters and I invite you all to visit my xanga: www . xanga . com / annairam
Soundtrack: Part I: "En el 2000" – Natalia Lafourcade; "The Sea" – Morcheeba / Part II: "Here Comes your Man" – The Pixies; "Trains" – Porcupine Tree / Part III: "Shadow" – Bonnie Pink; "Suddenly Everything Has Changed" – The Postal Service / Part IV: "So Here We Are" – Bloc Party / Part V: "So Here We Are" – Bloc Party; "Hell is Round the Corner" – Tricky / Part VI: "Give me One Reason" – Tracy Chapman / Part VII: "Give me One Reason" – Tracy Chapman; "Big Girls don't Cry" – Frankie Valli and The Four Seasons / Part VIII: "This Life" – Mandalay
Chapter 23: The longest day…
"The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live"
Flora Whittemore
A hunter green backpack filled to the brim with worthless knowledge and a snazzy collection of colored pens slammed onto the sand, a cloud of dust and creamy tan grains forming in the wake of said occurrence.
"Your roommate's an ass."
Eyes blazing behind her shades, Kaoru had planted herself before Sanosuke, feet slightly apart, hands on her hips, and stated the obvious, in his opinion.
"Hey Kaoru," he said without pause, eyes fixed on his handiwork. "Tell me, what else is new?"
Taking off her sunglasses, the petite girl sighed and wiped her brow. The day was scorching hot and, as a result, she was sweating like a pig; not even the weather seemed to be on her side. She had woken up on the wrong foot, as the hours trickled by, millisecond for millisecond, nothing had changed, nothing had gone right and her mood hadn't lifted, more like it stubbornly refused to budge, miserably content to have a dark cloud looming over its head.
"Alright," she conceded, "he's an even bigger ass than I initially thought him to be."
"You know girly," Sano considered, calmly rubbing wax on his surfboard, "I don't think that counts as new. The potential you overlook ain't news to me."
Silence was quick to settle, like downy feathers scattered all over a bedroom after a messy pillow fight make fast work of killing laughter. Drumming her fingers against her thigh, Kaoru watched the current bane of her existence's best friend wax the yellow board's deck, his strong hand deftly rubbing circles against the smooth surface.
"Also," Kaoru finally spoke up, protectively folding her arms across her chest and looking off to the side, "I may have been sort of harsh on him… the dolt."
With a loud, annoyed sigh, Sanosuke's hand stilled and his gaze leveled on the horizon: would those two make up their minds already? "You two… you bore me."
Back to the waxing, eyes once more on the board, and Kaoru was left to wonder where the brunet's crude verbosity had run off to. Once he opened his mouth again, the taste of salt on the tip of his tongue, secret relief flooded her: no surprises here and she was a merry gal… if not for her conscience eating away at her still.
"The dancing around each other has got to stop, one way or another." Looking up at Kaoru's hopeful face, Sanosuke fought against the torrent of anger swirling within and pressed on. "If you're both sorry about something I don't know and, to be honest, don't really give a damn about, fucking let it go already and decide."
"Decide?" She asked, genuinely curious.
There was this childlike quality about the high school senior that, no matter how much she tried to deny, always remained and got her the things she wanted, even if she had no clue that she was about to be turned down. Her inherent innocence was something that seemed almost attuned to a brighter, utopian universe, and that made it impossible to resist her wide, questioning eyes.
The tall man truly wanted to tell her that she was intruding on his alone-time, that he had his own problems to deal with, that today had been a terrible day for him and that it wasn't even far from over, that he once again had come unbelievably close to calling it quits with his girlfriend, that he was confused and desperate… but, those eyes… it was like looking at an abandoned puppy humbly requesting attention and scraps of food. It was like watching Oliver Twist get shut down when his stomach spoke louder than common sense.
It was… like quietly spying on Kenshin Himura as he sat on the couch sometime during the predawn hours and silently stared at the rain pelting against the loft windows, gaze lost in the darkness, mind trapped in the past.
Kneeling down before Sanosuke, Kaoru awaited with baited breath for some form of advice that could rid her of her heavy heart and fill the empty rooms with light again. Tomoe had said that her house was full of empty rooms; was this what she meant? Was her coded message a credible veneer of lunacy, simply a clever analogy for a broken heart?
"Unfamiliar with the concept, missy? Decide what you two… where you two stand, or something."
Crawling towards the shade, Kaoru sadly shook her head and wondered if she could get Sano to understand without giving too much of herself away.
"That's just it," she said meekly, digging her fingers into the cool sand, "he has secrets that… We're all allowed our fair share of the hush-hush, but… If he won't let me in on the little stuff…how am I supposed to know where I stand?"
Craning his neck to the side, Sanosuke watched as she gloomily let a handful of sand slip through her fingers: as long as she didn't do that again while being closer to his board, he had no complaints. However, if she so much as stirred nearer and the wind blew in his direction, he would have to ride on sandpaper; he did not want free exfoliation, he just wanted to surf.
"Look," Sano spoke, leaning back and bracing himself on his elbows, "Kenshin is a pretty private guy; that's just his way. When he's ready, he'll tell you the whole deal. In the meantime, don't sweat it."
Eyes glued on the oceanfront, blue burned into sparkling orangey fires that died down with the help of a filmy, prickly froth – intent on pooling over and stoking the flames – forcefully held at bay.
"There's a time and a place for him to tell me he's an orphan? That's a basic factoid Sano!" Kaoru blared out unhappily. "We've known each other for a month give or take, and I found out about that yesterday, by chance! I know I'm young and I have 'all the time in the world', but that was just plain ridiculous."
That was good. It was good for her to vent, for her to get her worries off her chest. Now that that was over and done with, she could finally come to terms with the next phase of the process of falling for someone for the very first time: it wasn't going to go away that easily, anger or not, disappointment or sadness. Life could most definitely be cruel and someone had to make little Miss Muffet affrightedly flee her comfortable tuffet; someone had to be the big, scary spider.
"But… you like him."
Resting his chin on his shoulder, Sanosuke patiently awaited the admission that would do her in, the famous last words of a boy-free, problem-free girl sneakily dipping her toes in the water. Something was lurking beneath the surface and the Pandora in her would make sure she curiously stumbled in, knee-deep, before getting dragged down beneath the waves by a large tentacle.
"…Maybe," Kaoru offhandedly confessed. Shrugging, she averted her eyes from the honey kissed face that fondly quirked its dry lips.
"Then let it go." Head whipping round towards the sea, Sanosuke filed all his problems away in the back of his mind, for the time being, and focused on the shoreline. "Man, look at those breaks!"
"Let it go? Just like that?"
"Sure thing." Picking up the bar of wax, the quarterback weighed his options and decided that he couldn't figure out which one was denser. Thinking back on all the things he knew about Kenshin, though, and his inability to go about one day of his life without feeling remorseful over every little thing, he had to go with the latter.
"How so?"
"Do you know how many things I've had to let slide with Megumi? It's the only way to deal with all the shit that comes with being in a relationship."
"That's the magic word: relationship," Kaoru clarified, wiping her hands on her capri cargo pants. "We aren't in… we're lost; at least that's how I feel most of the time."
Seagulls shrieked loudly, gliding in the humid wind, their graceful figures soaring low in the lazuli sky. The salty smell of seawater and the strong scent of seaweed carried on the breeze. Children yelled and chased after each other, carmine and pink buckets transforming into coral sandcastles, navy blue and army green shovels determinedly digging their way to China. Kaoru and Sanosuke remained silent.
"So, how did you find me?" Sano asked, getting on his feet and propping up his surfboard.
"I followed the trail of destruction," his companion commented with a casual wave of her hand.
"No, really."
"Umm… dumb luck I guess," Kaoru explained, also standing up. "I came here straight from school, running away from my drama club responsibilities, took to aimlessly wandering about the beach and… then there you were."
Opening the door to the little surf shack owned by his friend Jonas, a marine biology major, Sanosuke chuckled lightly. "Small world, hunh?"
"After last night, I'd call it microscopic."
§
"Open up! Nanami made pecan pie!"
"Misao, would you stop referring to your mother as anything other than your mother?"
"She has a name, doesn't she?"
"She likes being called mom, hon. She also likes her presence being acknowledged."
The Makimachis had always been known for their dramatic entrances; they always made sure to announce themselves in a very distinct manner.
"Mom, it makes you sound younger when your daughter calls you by your name," Kaoru overheard Misao loudly explain as she made her way to the foyer. "Not even lying about your age is as effective."
"Are you calling me old?" Mrs. Makimachi exclaimed, just as Kaoru made for the house keys.
"You have an eighteen year old daughter, you can't-"
"And we don't come in peace, so please, someone hurry and open the door!" Mr. Makimachi called out desperately; he was only a second away from pounding on the door and howling to the moon.
"Will do, Mr.Makimachi," Kaoru cheerfully proclaimed, swinging the front door open to let the herd stampede on in.
There was never a chance to say hello or catch sight of who exactly was rushing through the threshold as Misao's blue streaks invaded her vision and she got the air squeezed out of her. Why the girl never gave up glomming and wrapping her in a death grip as soon as they came into contact was a mystery; knowing what a tube of toothpaste must feel like every time someone decides to brush their teeth, unfortunately, was not.
"Oh Kaoru, I'm so excited! Where is he? Is he hot? Show me! Show me!"
"Let go, you monkey!" Kaoru yelped, "I've got a tray of cookies embedded in my ribcage!"
Cutting loose, Misao readjusted her hold on the tray of chocolate chip cookies and glanced around with about as much prudence as an old lady on bingo night.
"Sorry, sorry," she apologized, too busy making her way to the living room to actually make it sound believable. "Where is he?"
"Where's your cousin?" Kaoru countered, slamming the door.
"Off with my homicidal mother and my parole officer of a father, I presume," she answered disinterestedly.
"…Okay then."
"So, where's the mystery meat?"
"Misao, he's not yucky cafeteria food," the schoolgirl pointed out patiently. "And he's out back… with my homicidal father and parole officer of a mother."
"Makes sense."
Treading along behind Misao, Kaoru narrowly avoided getting whipped in the face by her friend's tousled mane on several occasions; the peppy cheerleader simply adored the 'I-just-rolled-out-of-bed-but-I-look-damn-fine-this-natural-anyhow' look: the diva was a charmer.
"So, which one is he?" Misao inquired, soon after they'd stopped weaving by small groups of people discussing politics, economy, cloned cats, Britney Spears and the Michael Jackson trial, among other things.
"Which one's your cousin that has a silly nickname and that I'm supposed to know but, for the life of me, can't remember?"
"You… you don't want me to meet him!" Misao exclaimed in shock, realizing that her best friend was avoiding the subject... and putting her index finger to good use.
"Can you blame me?" Kaoru asked, uneasiness floating around in her widened eyes.
"… Not really."
Overcome with relief, the ebony-haired girl snatched the cookie tray away from the other's grasp and placed it on a long table near the open French doors. Food was never lacking at a reunion in the Kamiya household; Kazuko Kamiya might have been a lousy cook, but neither she nor her husband were the least bit stingy, and their friends always collaborated, taking dessert into their own hands most of the time.
"Anyway," Kaoru voiced softly, sticking her head out like a giraffe while standing on tiptoe, her eyes searching for Kenshin through the crowd, "I can't see him from here. Last time I checked dad was with him; hopefully I won't find him in a body bag."
"Tell you what: go look for him while I scour around for Smiley. The four of us can meet up in a few, okay?"
"If we must…"
Rolling her eyes, Misao took to the left and bounded away; grumbling and scuffling her feet, Kaoru slowly headed out the doors and began her recon mission on the right side of the yard.
October was supposed to be windy and cool, but as if life ever dared be predictable! Walking around with her arms hanging limply at her sides, Kaoru considered taking off her shoes; the grass might be prickly, but it was fresher than having her feet rammed into the enclosed space of sneakers.
People bustled by all around, talking loudly, refreshing beverages in hand. Giggles echoed in the night and jack-o'-lanterns made funny faces at the guests, thankful for the soft lighting that the carved out pumpkins emitted along with the colorful Chinese lanterns hanging from tree to tree.
Puffing her cheeks, hands on her waist, she considered things for the whole of a second before exhaling and bending down to untie her shoes: it was simply too darn hot for footwear!
Holding onto her white sneakers by their shoelaces, Kaoru pulled herself up… and a lyrist lightly plucked her own heart strings, it would seem.
Leaning against the trunk of an old oak tree stood a beautiful boy with a sad smile on his thin lips. His arms were comfortably crossed over his chest, his magenta polo shirt rippling dark and light as he calmly breathed, the shade of the tree canopy and the play of golden light that filtered through small spaces between leaves and branches both fighting for dominance. Tranquilly standing there, he was entirely unaware of the struggle, of the ebb and flow of chiaroscuro that entranced a simple girl with a loudly booming heart.
"What is… what is this feeling?"
A small head popping up from behind the tree shook her from her thoughts and, fascinated, Kaoru watched as Kenshin bent down, scooped up a little girl of, perhaps four, and carried her on his back, her short pigtails bobbing with the motion.
Squealing gleefully in his ear and yanking at his long hair, it was amazing to note that not once did he complain, not even when the child in a pastel green sundress pulled too hard and made him choke. Offer the girl kind smiles and gentle words that, from a distance, Kaoru could not hear: that was all he did.
"I know… I think I know what this feeling means…"
Chewing on her bottom lip, Kaoru allowed herself a broad smile and, wiping the sweat off her forehead with the back of her free hand, leisurely paced towards them, blades of grass brushing against the soles of her bare feet.
Suddenly, a streak of poppy pink flew right past her, nearly knocking her off her feet and latched itself onto one of Kenshin's legs. Slightly stumbling backwards, the redhead effortlessly managed to maintain his balance, even with the unexpected weight tugging at his pants.
A bright laugh was all the warning he got before Kaoru trotted to a stop right in front of him; the children had been keeping him too busy to notice the dark-haired beauty walking his way.
"I see you've met the Olsen twins," Kaoru said, in reference to the adorable granddaughters of the family doctor.
"I'm Mary-Kate!" Suzume chirped.
"No, I'm Mary-Kate!" Ayame contradicted her sister, pushing her to the side.
Absently patting one of the two bickering kiddies on the head, Kenshin chuckled and gave Kaoru his full attention.
"They were bored and, frankly so was I; we decided to combine forces."
"You found the perfect excuse to get away from dad," Kaoru stated knowingly.
"Well, they wouldn't leave Dr. Genzai alone and he had some things to discuss with your father," Kenshin innocently explained, "I simply happened to be in the right place, at the right time. It couldn't hurt for your father to see me as responsible and cooperative."
"Did you happen to mention that you're Episcopalian too, just for the heck of it?"
"Now, I'm not one for lying Kaoru," Kenshin said, humor tingeing his voice, "I merely mentioned that my grandmother was a churchgoing woman and a true believer in the compassionate nature of God. At least, that's what I've always been told."
"She's dead, isn't she?" She asked flatly.
"Had been for a long time when I was born."
"That was… very clever of you, Kenshin."
"Why, thank you."
Fond smiles were traded, small little secrets shared in a glance.
"Falling for him… it doesn't feel so bad…"
"So… did you miss me?" Kaoru asked, hands behind her back, cheeks stained powder pink.
Her shoes were very close to hitting the ground.
"Kaoru, I…"
His hands were sweaty, a hairsbreadth away from abandoning his sides and cradling her face.
"KAORU!"
Both their heads spun around as swiftly as Schumacher racing to the finish line, a perfect moment reduced to a torn photograph of a near kiss that neither would be able to carry around in their wallets.
"Misao…" Kaoru growled, eyes screwed shut, the tone of reproach in her voice deafening.
"Kaoru Kamiya… you look taller than I remember."
The voice sounded familiar, the words spoken affectionately, the figure in the shadows a stranger that could have been a past memory being dragged back into the present by the hand.
"I'm sorry, Misao says we've met, but I…" The rest of her words died in the back of her throat as the man stepped forward and a neon blue Chinese lantern right behind him casting a bright glow revealed him and his smile to be remnants of lost summers spent on the lawn, drinking tall glasses of lemonade.
"Okay, so maybe calling him Smiley didn't actually help – even if he happens to smile nearly all the time – but, by the look on your face, it seems to all be coming back now, or am I mistaken?"
Never had Misao spoken truer words: though much taller and slightly fuller – when they were younger he had been nothing more than skin and bones –, Kaoru remembered. She remembered him well and, what's more, remembered him warmheartedly.
"Seta?"
The fact that Kenshin seemed to know him, however, was much more surprising than Soujiro Seta standing there, in front of her, after all those years.
"It's been a while, Himura. It's nice to see you again."
§
Running out of Buscopan or Midol was the greatest of human tragedies, or so Misao thought. Truth be told, without the little tablets, she was no better off than Simon Cowell during a bad audition or someone equally bitter. Sometimes, being a woman simply wasn't worth the hassle.
The pharmacy doors slid open and Misao stepped inside, her low ponytail swishing from side to side.
Roaming through the aisles, her green eyes avidly scanned the white back-to-back steel shelves, eager to come across the current object of her innermost desires: the cramps had to be stopped!
There's this saying about people oftentimes finding more than they bargained for; it's a cliché because it's real.
"…find it."
"Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."
"I can't… I have to… I need to find it."
"Miss, please."
"Do you have it? I need to find it! Please, do you have it?"
"Miss… please leave; I don't want to have to call security."
With every step she took, the voices grew louder. There was a small crowd around the cash register that impaired her vision, but that did not appease Misao's nosiness; on the contrary, the fact that so many people had taken interest in whatever was happening only served to make her all the more curious.
Standing on her toes, she tried to make out the unfolding scene, but all her efforts were fruitless since a dozen or so heads blocked her view of the fray.
"My little boy… I have to find it for him… I have to find it."
"Miss we've been through this: if you won't tell me what you're looking for, I can't help you. You're making the costumers nervous so, please, would you mind leaving? I don't want to have to call security but… what else would you have me do if you insist on making a scene?"
"I need to find it!"
When Misao heard the sound of several things crashing onto the floor, she just knew that she had to see for herself what all the commotion was about. Pushing her way none to gently – that got her some annoyed stares – through the sea of housewives – because let's face it, who else would be peering on with utter fascination at a catastrophe in the making? –, the girl drew to a stop when a woman with short red hair the size of Kansas refused to budge.
"That's it! I'm calling security."
"But I have to find it, don't you see?"
Peeping over the obese woman's head – which required her to stand on one foot and jump really high repeatedly – Misao caught sight of several shattered cough syrup bottles and quite a few cardboard medicine boxes on the ground: whoa! Whoever had done that sure was one crazy lady! The pharmacy clerk, wearing the customary white lab coat, stepped away from the aisle were the psycho who had caused all the damage was probably standing and, frowning, headed for the phone.
"Please, I have to find it!"
Misao's eyes widened, became two frightened, perfectly round searchlights and, before she knew it, she was making a mad dash for the pharmacy clerk, urging her to give up on calling security. How she managed to walk past the wide brick wall of a woman standing in front of her, she would never know.
"Please, don't call security! Please, she's sick! I know who she is, I know she didn't mean to do any of these things, she's just very sick! Please, I'll get her out of here! Please, just don't call security!"
When Yuriko Shinomori had waddled out in pursuit of the clerk in nothing but a lavender terrycloth bathrobe, Misao hadn't known what to do, what to say, how to feel; she hadn't even been sure of how exactly to go about panicking. All she had known for certain was that the authorities could not grow to be involved, lest Aoshi get into trouble and Yuriko more riled up than she already was. A person in her condition could become violent if provoked and that would simply have been the end of the world for the both of them.
Inching towards Ms. Shinomori, with her wild hair and accusing glare, Misao felt the heat of a thousand eyes looking her way, waiting for her next move, breaths held, minds drawn to a blank. At any other given time, the wannabe actor would have been more than happy to comply, elated at the very thought that she was drawing so much attention; today, however, everything had changed and all she wished was to have the power that would make this moment go away, that would make the dreadful story that she had landed a stellar role in un-write itself.
Swallowing down her increasing worry and her sudden stage fright, Misao took a deep breath, centered herself, schooled her features and did what she had always done best: acted.
"Act like everything's fine. Act like you're not terrified. Act like one of your worst fears isn't coming true. Act like you can make it all better. Act like you always do, Misao. Act!"
Covering the distance between them, she maintained a tentative scope of separation, so as not to throw her neighbor into hysterics or anything of the sort, and with a caring smile on her face, left the coward's way parked out somewhere remote and cold; cowardice would serve no purpose here.
"Ms. Shinomori, it's okay," she voiced cautiously, mindful not to disturb her in the least. "Please, tell me what you're looking for."
"I… I have to find it."
"Find what exactly?"
To bear witness to such an atrocious thing, a beautiful, gentle woman reduced to a crazed, confused, broken creature. The minutes seemed to last forever, time in itself too short to bring with it the answers to a question that never did quite manage to go away: why?
"It's not here Ms. Shinomori," Misao tried to say as soothingly as humanely possible. She knew that, under the current circumstances, she was way out of her league but her only option was to get Aoshi's mother out of the establishment.
"It's not… It's not here?"
"No, you won't find it here."
In a daze, Yuriko knocked over a few other products, nervously whispering to herself, casting untrusting glares in Misao's direction, a girl she had known since the womb. It was nothing short of heartbreaking.
"Do you know where it is? It's not here… Do you know? Where is it? Do you know? I need to find it. I need… I need…"
"I…"
Misao was at a complete loss. The way Yuriko kept mumbling to herself and fidgeting with her hands was scary. A ton of bricks weighed down on her stomach, making her queasy.
"You know."
"…I know it's not here."
"You know where it is," Yuriko blurted out, pointing an accusing finger at her. "I have to find it. Tell me where it is! I need to find it… What color is it? I forget…"
"Yuriko, come with me-"
"Tell me what color it is! I need to find it," she interrupted at the top of her voice before withdrawing into herself again and timidly pursuing the subject. "Please, I have to find it. I forget… I forget… tell me the color. The color. The color…"
"The color? It's… it's… uh… it's slate blue, like your little boy's eyes."
Something inside the empty husk of the one who once was Yuriko Shinomori clicked, a flicker of recognition passing her by and, for a fraction of eternity, anchoring itself in her memory.
"Slate blue? Slate blue… I forget sometimes. Will you take me to it? I… I need to find it."
"I'll help you."
Holding out her hand, Misao waited, pleaded, begged and bribed, all in the space of such languorously heavy silence that it clung to her like spider webs, all in the seemingly endless amount of time that it took for a dysfunctional angel to reach back.
"My little boy, he has beautiful eyes, doesn't he?"
"Yes, yes he does."
Gently pulling her along, Misao walked her charge out of the pharmacy, distress tampered down. It was going to be a long day.
We're all looking for something; the problem is how to go about finding it.
Sometimes, it's the simple answers that lead us in the right direction.
Sometimes, we're far too lost to know where we're heading.
Sometimes, we can't find our way back.
Sometimes, we misplace ourselves.
We're all looking for something; the sad part is when it can't be found.
§
The teacher had dimmed the lights. The film projector was doing its thing. Behind him, an obnoxious girl with a penchant for the obscure and funerary constructions kept systematically kicking the back of his chair. On the screen, a busty, platinum blonde screamed for all she was worth shortly before the scene changed and jazzy film noir music assaulted the classroom. In his mind, Kenshin knew of nothing else than the previous night.
"You went to Eximius Prep School with Soujiro? Kenshin, that's an extremely exclusive, expensive, Ivy League oriented school!"
All of Kaoru's reckonings were indeed true, and didn't he know it…
"Well, before Ken broke the chain, Yale was the only place for a Himura, wasn't it?"
Soujiro wasn't telling lies, that was for sure. Granted, his mother had studied at NYU, but it had been his parents' wish for him to attend Yale… or at least that's what he had always assumed, given his father's family history.
"Yale? Yale… as in Yale, Yale?"
Why was she so shocked, anyway? So what if he should have gone to Yale? Yale, shmail! He'd given up on that a long time ago and, in his opinion, it had truly been for the best.
"Lux et Veritas... that's the motto I believe. Wasn't Akira Kiyosato planning to enroll there as well?"
That sardonic smile of his… what he wouldn't give to be able to rip the boy's head off!
"Well Smiley, you may not have been Yale material, but you did pretty well for yourself, didn't you?"
"I can't complain; Stanford truly is the place for me."
That friend of Kaoru's – Misao, if he wasn't mistaken – sure was good to have around: a change in topics simply could not have been more warranted.
"I can't wait to go to college! Though, come to think of it, figuring out what the hell it is that I want to major in wouldn't be so terrible, now would it?"
"Oh please, Kaoru! We already know you're going to Sarah Lawrence and that the next big thing, literature-wise, will be you."
"How can you be so certain that that's the place for me?"
"As I live and breathe…"
"Bah, Humbug!"
"And it's not even the holidays yet! You are such a grouch!"
"Aren't all writers supposed to be?"
"I think you actually have to publish a book first before the bitterness and alcoholism kicks in."
"I shall take note of that. When does your dramatic story of substance abuse and/or hitting the bottle too hard come into play?"
"It depends."
"On?"
"Are we talking Valley of the Dolls substance abuse, or Vivian Leigh spin the bottle?"
"The choice is yours."
"Valley of the Dolls it is! Manic depression just doesn't suit me, you know?"
On second thought… This conversation could be hitting too close to home; even Soujiro looked uncomfortable, try as he might to disguise it.
"So Ken, how is Hiko? He was as fierce as a lion when we got ourselves into trouble that last time, hunh? How's the gallery?"
He just couldn't let it go, could he? All he had ever wanted was to spend a smidgen of quality time with Kaoru and her family – even if her father wasn't one for his particular brand of company – and, apparently, that was asking for the sun, moon, stars and all things impossible. Why had Soujirou Seta come out of the blue and into his life all over again? This was, in all honesty, a situation that went beyond bad karma; this was having sold his soul to the devil in his sleep and now being tortured for retribution… or something akin to it.
"Who's Hiko? Is he Kenshin's dad?" Kaoru asked, somewhat put out at the thought that Misao's cousin knew more about the boy beside her than she, it appeared, ever would. "He never does talk about his parents."
"Dad? Oh no, Kaoru, Ruben is his legal guardian. Ken doesn't have parents."
"Hunh?"
Oops… Now he'd gone right on ahead and done it! Had he forgotten to mention that his parents had died in an accident when he was but a little boy? Had he allowed – though 'allowed' wasn't exactly the word he would use – a third party to bring it up? And, most importantly, would Kaoru take offense at this? From the look on her face, his line of questioning had just bumped itself into the rhetorical category.
"Kenshin, buddy, you didn't tell her?" his former classmate asked, a glint of mischief twinkling in his eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to open my mouth and blab, I just didn't know it was a big secret; it didn't use to be…"
It was incredible how the man standing before him could force himself to seem contrite and duly embarrassed. In the past, that had gotten them both out of pretty nasty situations.
"It's not," Kenshin assured them all through gritted teeth. "I just…" Turning his eyes toward the raven haired teen beside him, he wasn't exactly sure how to finish that sentence. With her head cast down, she seemed upset and… damn it all to hell if he hadn't screwed up all over again! Maybe he should write down 'permanent screw-up' under expertise when filling out any future job applications.
"It just slipped your mind," she murmured softly, head hung low, eyes on the lush green grass.
"Kaoru, I-"
"So," she intoned, a broad fake smile plastered on her face, "what are you doing here Sou? Taking a break from Stanford?"
"Actually, I had some business to take care of that simply couldn't wait till Thanksgiving," Soujiro answered, sending a significant glance in Kenshin's direction. Stiffening up, Kenshin did not give it much thought when he automatically reached for Kaoru's hand and wrapped his own slightly larger one around it. "That, and I missed my family. Aunt Nanami is my godmother and all around favorite aunt, after all."
By this point, Kenshin was practically seething, and how could he not be? He knew the split personality game like the back of his hand; he himself had played it for a while. He knew Soujirou, all his tricks and chameleonic abilities. The guy knew how to be charming, knew how to fake his way through anything. His presence alone was unsettling. Why was he in Kaoru's house? Why did he have to be Misao's cousin? Why: the question shot that would not stay dead.
"Sou's my fourth favorite cousin, but I put up with him for Nanami's sake," Misao joked, elbowing said cousin in the ribs.
"Right back at you, cousin," he remarked just as teasingly, repeating her former action.
"What business did you have to take care of?"
So much for the relaxed atmosphere! Perhaps he should have left well enough alone, but Kenshin couldn't help himself: he needed to find out what the ulterior motive for Soujiro Seta's visit was; he had to ascertain that he had nothing to do with it. Flushing, Kaoru couldn't help noticing – despite her upset – that the soon-to-be architect tightened the grip on her hand when he spoke. Was he alright?
"Still paranoid, Ken? They've got pills for that now."
How dare he! Who gave him the right to say such things! Who fucking gave him the right to bring back the past after all his careful efforts to run it over and leave it out to die in a lonesome highway somewhere, metaphorically speaking? What the hell did he want!
"Of course, I'm more of an herbal medicine man myself," Soujiro stated, his polite smile not once faltering, his performance Oscar-worthy. "And, if all else fails, there's nothing like a good laugh to lighten people up. That's why Patch Adams is a brilliant role model; he understands the power of endorphins."
"As do you," Kenshin articulated, each syllable bitterly rolling off his tongue.
"As do I," Soujiro agreed, hands in his pockets, hair ruffled by a sudden gust of wind.
Misao and Kaoru exchanged perplexed glances. One long blink: a minor shake of the head. One chin tilt: a shrug of the shoulders. Not even the Morse code of best friends could aid them in understanding the current situation.
"So… the tension is freaking me out and, since I've never known what's good for me, I'll ask anyway." With that, Misao laid the bedding for what was to be nothing more than her busybody ways getting the better of her. "What's the story with you guys?"
"Not worth recounting," the redhead was quick to reply, his violet eyes still locked with Soujirou's dark orbs.
Kenshin felt the void as she slipped her hand away from his and instead clutched it to her chest. There was air around his fingers. His palm was slowly cooling down. There was nothing to hold on to and his hand was, yet again, heavily hanging without purpose by his side. In instants, the appendage went numb.
"Nothing is worth recounting to you," Kaoru uttered darkly, her stance visibly changing into a 'don't-you-dare-touch-me' pose: body language could be such a bitch.
"Don't get mad at him," the blue-eyed young man offered kindly, "he's always been the mysterious type. It suits him. It landed him plenty of dates and secret admirers in high school."
Was there a state where murder wasn't illegal?
§
Joni Mitchell equals salve. The Cranberries dictate that salvation is free. George Michael's "Freedom" never was one of her favorite songs. Music, no matter the genre, was doing absolutely nothing to keep her steady or still; her thoughts brooked no room for rest or pacifying arguments.
Reaching over to the radio, she came to the sorry decision of pulling the plug on yet another failed attempt at cheering herself up. Determination ruling her actions, she picked up the tools of her trade and fled from her bedroom. Working herself to the bone in the dojo, Kaoru discovered that all forms of evasion were useless; she could run or see for miles (1)and, headstrong as ever, her mind would not stray. Last night, she said (2)…
§
She would stand her ground and be casual about it. She would speak her mind without snarling and get the message across without incident. As infatuated as she might be, omission of basic profile info – which could only lead to the omission of bigger truths – was not going to blow over well with her. With poise and reason on her side, she would make Kenshin see the error of his ways and leave the ball in his court. At least, that was the plan…
"How could you not tell me you were an orphan!"
"Kaoru -"
"Or that you were destined for Yale and far greater things?"
"Kaoru -"
"How could you not tell me all of these simple little things?"
"Kaoru -"
"How could you…lie?"
"I did not lie!"
It was a miracle that he had managed to get more than two words out without further interruptions. Apparently, she was so taken aback by his denial to her claims that, after that, she chose to remain silent. Nevertheless, it didn't last.
"Omission, by default, is a lie in my book!"
"Then your book is in dire need of an editor because forgetting to mention something that never came up in conversation is not the same as lying, Kaoru."
"Oh, come on! That's like claiming unintentional fallacy!"
"Which exists, given that a fallacious argument can be spurred by ignorance and not necessarily ill intent."
"You don't get it do you?" Kaoru asked wearily. "It did come up. Every time I talked about my parents it came up. When we talked about college applications that night at the diner, it came up. When I dealt with you excelling at nearly every academic subject known to man, it came up! It came up Kenshin!" Struggling to calm herself down, she combed her fingers through her hair and concentrated on her breathing. "You didn't forget to mention anything, you just didn't want to."
Sighing, it was Kenshin's turn to figure that his hair needed to be tamed down, as well as his rising temper. It didn't make sense to him that someone would make such a big deal over something so trivial.
"Kaoru," he patiently explained, trying his hardest to reason with her, "you may be right; maybe, those are things I don't like to talk about. If that's the case, am I not allowed some privacy?"
"You told Soujirou that none if it was a big secret."
"It's not! Things don't have to be secret for a person to not want to talk about certain matters."
"Fine."
At first, Kenshin was relieved: it was natural for him to think, given her reaction, that business had been taken care of; her cheeks were no longer red, her eyes were no longer damning him to the fires of hell and her tone sounded fairly neutral. Kaoru's subsequent whisper, however, deemed the conversation far from over.
"Let me know when it'll be okay to talk about silly things like family."
"Kaoru, what did I just say?" Kenshin questioned, exasperation coloring his voice.
"I heard you," she stated firmly. "I heard you loud and clear. That's why I'm asking you to let me know when you think you will be able to trust me."
"It's not about trust!" He exclaimed in frustration.
"It is," she serenely replied. "It's always about trust. It's about you telling me I trust too easily and you not trusting me enough. There's no sense in lying to ourselves about it."
"No one is lying here."
"Be glad you're not Pinocchio."
So they had finally resorted to name calling: well, this was most definitely bound to turn out well…
After pacing around for a minute or so, Kenshin did not know what to say. Catching a glimpse of her, he found her staring off into the distance, eyebrows furrowed and nearly touching: she was still mad. She was so mad, in fact, that her anger had left her speechless. She too did not know what to say; he was too stubborn and… and… how she hated this! She had actually had high hopes for the evening but, somewhere along the line, everything had changed and all her expectations were suddenly looking incredibly stupid and unrealistic.
Why couldn't he trust her, just a little? Tomoe probably knew every single thing about him, including the exact date he lost his first tooth. Kaoru, on the other hand, wasn't even entitled to knowing that his parents were dead; she didn't have clearance for that type of classified information. Why did she have to realize tonight, of all nights, that she was falling for such a first class moron? That little discovery only served to worsen her growing disappointment. Maybe she was mistaken; maybe her feelings were so jumbled that she couldn't really tell what was what.
"What do you want from me?"
Head cracked, thoughts swirling, galaxies colliding.
Distortion, contortion, disbelief.
Eyes wide, eyes squinted, eyes saucer-like.
Sudden stupor, sudden acceleration, sudden recovery.
Stunned, surprised, irate.
Pause, Fast Forward, Play.
First class moron was nothing; there simply was no way to put into words just what kind of person Kenshin Himura was.
"What kind of a half-assed question is that!"
"Just tell me what you want from me, Kaoru, and I'll see if I can oblige." The redhead carried himself as if that statement were the most sensible argument in the world. "Well?"
"Do… do you have any friends Kenshin Himura?" Kaoru blared as stridently as if she had been using a megaphone. "Because if you did, then you would know that what you're doing right now, what you're saying with that open honest look on your face… it's all wrong!"
Pausing to catch her breath, the high school senior balled her hands into fists and repressed the unexpected urge to sob and throw a hissy fit. How she wanted to throttle him until he was blue!
"I don't want you to be, do or say anything other than what you – as in the person that you are – would be, say or do, you idiot!"
"Now who's lying?" he asked, his arms folded over his chest, his lavender eyes kindly beseeching her to see the light.
"You… you seriously think that I'm looking to change you…"
The moment she took an involuntary step back and practically tripped over her own feet, Kenshin knew that that had not come out right. The moment her pretty face turned sallow and her eyes lost their luster he knew that all the fight had left her and, though he had aimed to put an end to the conflict, her response made him feel as if he had pulled a Hiroshima on her: sure, the A-bomb ended the war, but at what cost?
"That's not… Kaoru stop it, please, that's not how I meant it."
"Oh really?"
"Yes, really!"
"Fine."
"No, it's not fine, you don't look fine," Kenshin said, bringing his hands towards her face. She pulled away before he could touch her. "You took things the wrong way and now you're upset. I never wanted to upset you."
"Well it sucks to be you because, guess what? You did!"
It might have been childish but self-defense mechanisms don't inexorably have to be refined, they just have to take over at the right time. Too bad human timing, relationship-wise, is never accurate…
"I… uh… I should go," the forlorn boy – for now he looked much more like a small boy and less like a confident man telling the girl he was interested in that he was right and she was wrong – muttered, unsure as to how the end of this bizarre evening was supposed to go, as to what his final parting words should be. "I'll… I'll see you around, Kaoru…"
Head bowed, hands fisted deep in his pockets, his distress was evident; glassy eyes and hunched over posture, Kaoru was no different to look upon: their sadness was blatantly obvious and a nearly palpable emotion set in a macaroni picture frame, for all the world to see. Never had pudgy, kindergarten hands crafted such a delicate work of art for Mother's Day.
The fading black and white photo saw its own faint, dull tones mesh into many shades of gray, the camera lens unfocused, capturing the distorted image of a boy and a girl, a still picture of life spinning as fast as a carousel. Primary colors blotched the paper, richer hues swirling into motion as a depressed pair of Florsheim loafers edged away, footfalls echoing in Kaoru's mind. He was leaving.
Once Kenshin disappeared into the crowd, it was as if the sound had been turned back on. So far, the entire Halloween shindig had been on mute but, as tears gathered in Kaoru's eyes, the irony of an old Frankie Valli and Four Seasons record was precious.
♪
"(Silly girl) Shame on you your Mama said
(Silly girl) Shame on you, you cried in bed
(Silly girl) Shame on you, you told a lie
Big girls do cry"
♪
Touché, God! Touché!
§
The sun was setting. She was numb. Never had an armchair felt more uncomfortable. He wasn't home yet.
Night was falling. She was miserable. Never had one single afternoon been more extenuating. He wasn't home yet.
The room sunk deeper into darkness. Misao sunk further into a state of shaken hollowness. Aoshi would be home soon.
"Aoshi…"
He didn't smile anymore. He didn't laugh anymore. Where had the bright future run off to? If she chased after it, could she catch up to it and request a second chance? If she found it, could she tie it up to a chair and punish it for having run away in the first place?
The house was quiet. Misao's thoughts were eerily silent, tiptoeing around in order to avoid becoming nuisances. What was taking him so long?
The living room was toasty. Her black choker was chafing her neck. The remembrance of a few hours back threatened to choke her. Aoshi should be home any minute now.
"Aoshi…"
He didn't come over for supper anymore. Where had the past locked itself away? If she found the key to its hiding place, could she restore it? If she cornered it, would it cower and bend to her whims?
This life was killing her. This life was taking everything away from them. The front door creaked open. Aoshi was home.
1 In reference to the The Who song, I can see for miles.
2 In reference to the The Strokes song, Last Night.
Reviewer Responses:
To MZ.AMbER EYES: You're totally right, sometimes I let myself get carried away by the side of me that saw to many Disney movies as a child and still bears a flicker of hope that Prince Charming will come along. Although, given my exploits with the male species last weekend – some guy hit on me with the accursed "do you come here often?" cliché of phrases –, I'm beginning to wonder how that illusion manages to keep on existing. Must be something in the water…
To Vic'chonn: I'm glad you like the Megumi and Sano dynamic because, in the future, I plan on exploring it further. I think it's a shame that only one of my chapters gave their relationship a more in-depth look: they truly are wonderful characters to work with. I had planned to keep going with the Mr. Kamiya vs. Kenshin-could-be-a-potential-boyfriend-for-my-one-and- only-sweet-virginal-daughter theme, but I decided to take some of the heat off of that and focus on finally giving Soujirou a proper introduction to the storyline, something I considered to be much more important for the plot's advancement. Nevertheless, there will be more "tender" Kenshin/Mr. Kamiya moments: let's just hope no one dies in the process… I'm happy to hear that you picked up on how significant the notion of perfection associated to the character of Tomoe is and it's nice to hear a reader relating to any specific topics I tamper with. Many of us have, at one point or another, become victims of this horrible thing that is trying to be prefect, attempting to please one and all and, because of that, I believe it to be a subject worth writing about it. Bulimia and anorexia aren't the only "hot teen themes" that a person can elaborate upon; sometimes the more trivial and viewed as less harmful is also a problem to be debated on and spoken of. About the relaxing bath thing, I believe you and when I find the time for someting other than quick showers, trust me, I plan to indulge. I'll get me some vanilla scented candles and after a nice warm soak, I'll be good as new! Thank you for your constant encouragement: it gives me the confidence necessary to step up and admit to the world that I want to be a writer and actually fight for it. This fic… I truly want it to become a novel. I'm working on it. Don't worry about leaving me long reviews; I absolutely adore those and there's no way, no how that you could make me sleepy. My e-mail is: anna-iram hotmail . com (minus the spaces). We can talk on messenger whenever – I don't feel stalked, so no worries – and, check out my xanga, if you'd like. With that, I must continue the looooong reviewers response list, so goodnight!
To Ravyn: First of all, thank you for all your compliments: I'm incredibly pleased to find you enjoying this story and its depiction of our beloved RK characters. I know that, given time, I am going to make at least half the people reading this story come to, if not like, at least not loathe Tomoe so much: it's a foolproof plan and I'm sure the story's progress will reveal my intentions. Yikes! I feel very sympathetic towards your dates! My dad can be pretty mean too, but then again, I am the youngest daughter so… I guess it comes with the territory, né? Keep reviewing me, keep reading and remember, any criticism, any suggestions are always welcome. Bye!
To AquaVerve: Never had I read a comparison quite like yours before. Hahahaha. Quite truthfully, it made me feel special though, it made me consider that perhaps I am writing something that people not only read for entertainment purposes, but because it touches them, even if it happens to be in a way similar to getting frisked at the airport – I swear, security there is this close to getting sued for sexual harassment! No need for apologies; I find your enthusiasm heartwarming, though I myself am sorry for being unable to oblige: life happens and writing, no matter how much I love it, must retreat to the sidelines until further notice sometimes. However, I will never stop writing; some chapters will simply take longer than others to come out. Thank you for your support.
To Rabid Turtle: I'm aware that Aoshi's troubles have been kept under wraps and, though I have not put a name to them yet, I was wondering… did this installment help any? I think it did, but feedback on that particular point would be greatly appreciated. Sure, Kaoru and Kenshin are cute together… most of the time, but they sure can cook up one hell of a storm, can't they? See, in my opinion, Kenshin's passive-aggressiveness and his eager to please attitude can't always be a good thing: I speak from personal experience when I say that that sort of posture can totally make things even worse when having it out in an argument. Thanks for reviewing: it's a wonderful consequence to uploading on fanfiction . net! Until next time!
To ixchen: Thanks for leaving a review and it's good to hear that you like this fic. Can I tell you a secret? I can't wait to see where all of this is going too!
To Rhapsody07: Patience is a virtue, my friend, and I fear that with these characters, patience is something that you simply will not be able to do without! They'll get together – I'm a K/K shipper, after all – but….from the look of things, it'll take a while. My advice, enjoy the stolen moments, 'cause that's what Kaoru will be doing in the meantime! Kissies and chapter 24 awaits!
To Strawberry'd: Initially, this story wasn't meant to be all that long. Apparently, prolix is my thing! Thanks for taking the time to review. I hope you liked this chapter.
To bunny angel: The goodnight/goodbye scene was one of my favorites to write: it took me a good while to get the shoe part right. Thanks for reading!
To marstanuki: I had totally forgotten about Valentine's Day this year – the advantage of being in college is that we don't have to make stupid arts n' crafts cards in class anymore – so, thanks for the reminder that that day still exists on the calendar. I absolutely agree with you: there's nothing more endearing about Kaoru than her imperfection, which is why I love writing her. She tends to say the wrong thing, to blow things out of proportion, to put too much heart into everything… she can make a mess of anything, but one smile and kind word, one glimpse at her noble intentions somehow rights all the wrongs. Megumi is… more complicated than most let on. The world hasn't been the kindest of places to her and, so, she feels the need to protect herself by adopting that whole urban blasé stance; making fun of others takes attention away from her and the vulnerability she doesn't want anyone to see. Misao… Misao can simply be too peppy for her own good. Thanks for the review and until next time!
To missaw: Thank you for proving to me just how awesome I can be! I knew I had it in me! Yes people, I am cool, deal with it! In other news: I am dead tired, so I'll cut this short and leave you a longer response next chapter. I tell you, it's such a thrill to receive so many reviews, but having to answer them all individually takes some time and wipes you out! Oh well, whatever am I complaining for? I'd rather do things this way than deal with receiving fewer reviews!
To Sukoshi no Koinu: By all means, if reading more of this story is what you desire, then rejoice for there is still loads more to go! Thank you for the review.
To Misato-Katsuragi2: Actually, you didn't get anything wrong, in the end Aoshi was looking at Misao. Their story, as this chapter proves, is just a tad complicated for things to be made as obvious as they could be. I am very pleased to inform you that, next chapter there will be actual interaction between those two: I'm sure that that will make you happy! I'm sorry if you were confused by the Aoshi piece last chapter, but it was intentional – I have this obsession with subtext and I swear I would have a "nothing is what seems" bumper sticker stuck to my car if I actually owned one. As to when Kenshin is going to realize he likes Kaoru, I would have to say that your guess is as good as mine. The thing is… he's a guy – yes, contrarily to common belief, Kenshin is, above all else, a guy – and guys, they tend to process their feelings differently, their emotional intelligence is pretty basic, come to think of it. Some guys work with the three step program: see, want, take; the shier ones hesitate on that last part. Speaking seriously, though, no disrespect to guys or anything, but what is true – hell, they admit to it – is that males and females operate differently. We'll just have to see how it goes when the time comes, I guess. Man, bloodlust anyone? How do you know there will be carnage when he realizes his true emotions? Oh, right, because it's Kenshin we're talking about! As if anything could go over smoothly for him… Poor baby. Well, I love getting reviews from you so, please, keep it up and it's goodbye for now.
To gwkitty: Wow, your review was very flattering. I'm feeling kind of shy all of a sudden. Um… well, first things first: thank you for taking the time to leave a review; those always make my day! Second: it's cool that you only reviewed now, especially if you choose to keep it up and decide to turn this into a common thing. Third: you have no idea how positively radiant I get – seriously, I morph into little Miss Sunshine – when someone tells me that they feel moved by my writing, that it stirs something in them, emotionally speaking. My main goal is to get people emotionally involved and every time a reviewer brings it up, I feel enormously pleased with myself and figure "Hey, not too shabby": the way I see it, if people comment on it, then I'm not doing too bad a job. And last, but not least: thanks for being patient with my muse, which I'm figuring needs a name because, heck, calling it 'anonymous' just won't cut it anymore. So, wanna help me give it a name? Well, I'm off now! Bye!
To De Lazy Lime: Lets see… after this chapter, you tell me, do you think Aoshi knows where he's going with the decisions he's made thus far? Stop talking about a human guy Kenshin: thinking about it gets me into trouble! No, really! Last weekend, I was out at a club and, around 4 AM, I was dead tired – I drank this cocktail called Betty Boop that is like a bomb: it has Kahlua, Malibu, Vodka, pineapple juice and, if I'm not mistaken, Blue Curacao –, so I decided to take a seat on one of the semi-leather sofa thingies on the sides of the dance floor. Around me there were all of these couples making out, the music was way too loud – though the DJ was spinning some good rock tunes – and, as I closed my eyes to rest for a while, I thought to myself "when will I meet my Kenshin". I think I was falling asleep, I was so tired. An added weight beside me made me open my eyes, only to find this really ugly guy sitting next to me who whispers in my ear "so, do you come here often?"… Life is not without irony, is it? The universe seems to have a very acute sense of humor. Back to the story, though: the music for this installment has a peculiar characteristic. At times, the rhythms don't match the scene; it's on purpose, a way of showing that the world is still going on around the characters, that life doesn't always have a perfect soundtrack. It sounded nifty in my head. See you next post, dear. Before I take my leave, though: any songs on your playlist that you would recommend? I'm always up for discovering new tunes.
To Ri-nee-chan: Don't worry, my timetable doesn't allow me much free time to dabble with my writing too: it's the curse of student life. The first scene of the last chapter was indeed a puzzler: I wrote it on the plane coming back form my vacation in Argentina, pondering about how it must feel like to realize you're falling for someone the first time and comparing that experience with an airplane preparing to land. It was supposed to set the tone for Kaoru's revelation at the end of the installment. I find Aoshi an exceptionally hard character to write, which is why I am focusing so much on building, practically brick by brick, the world around him before actually delving into his mindset and his actions. I hope it helps me ease into that place of discomfort that Aoshi lives and breathes. As far as Tomoe goes: my lips are sealed, you will know what's what when the time comes. I am, however, glad that you were able to feel some sympathy for her, it means I'm managing to transform her into someone more likeable. Argentina was fabulous with a capital "F" and, as to the weather in Venezuela, I wouldn't know since I'm not currently living there. It's rainy in Rio de Janeiro right now, if you're curious. A great month to you too Ri-nee-chan! Take care of yourself and I hope to hear from you soon!
To Mana Mihara: "Sit back and enjoy": yep, that's my motto. I don't know that my writing style is mysterious but, then again, I am a Scorpio; mystery becomes me. The first chapter of this story popped into my head one restless night, when sleep would just not come to me. I had no idea where to go from there but I knew it meant something and decided not to fight it; instead, I let the liberty of being entirely clueless about the whole ordeal guide me and, slowly, the plot took shape. To be perfectly honest, I plan on turning this fic into an original work of fiction, hopefully something that will one day be published and that I can proudly call "my first novel". With that in mind, I tell people that I am currently writing a book when they get annoying and start asking too many questions – I've already started the revision on the first couple of chapters. When they pursue the topic – something I only bring up to get nosy persons off my back – I can only summarize it by saying: "it's about people". Your review tells me that, it tells me that you get it when I describe it that way, when I make it out to be the only thing that it is: it's about all of us. Following that thread of logic, I thank you for your beautiful, inspirational words, for leading me to trust in the knowledge that I am on the right track with this story, whichever it might be. Please keep reviewing me, make sure to tell me if you don't agree with something, if you have any suggestions for improvement. Please don't hesitate. Happy Easter and, once again, thank you.
To Ocean Fish: No sweetie, I don't hate you, I don't think I ever could, Try checking your e-mails more often – that way you can see that I answered the quiz you sent me – and write whenever, since it's always nice to hear from you. "A person to spend time with in comfortable contemplation"… in layman's terms, the guy is as dull as a blunt knife. I'm glad you liked chapters 22 and 23 and here's to hoping that number 24 was a hit too! Bye pookie!
"So long, farewell, Auf wiedersehn, good night,
I hate to go and leave this pretty sight.
So long, farewell, Auf wiedersehn, adieu"