STANDARD DISCLAIMERS APPLY: I've not a contract or any other legal document declaring me sole or common proprietor of the RK series. So, what does that make me? A broke wannabe.
Quick little message from author: Let's just get right down to business, shall we? Enjoy.
Soundtrack: Part I: "Bizarre Love Triangle" – Frente / Part II: "February Wind" – Stephen Speaks; "Y Control" – Yeah yeah yeahs / Part III: "Sunday Mondays" – Vanessa Paradis; "Sitting, waiting, wishing" – Jack Johnson / Part IV + Part V: "Sitting, waiting, wishing" – Jack Johnson / Part VI + Part VII: "We will become silhouettes" – The Shins / Part VIII: "Fiddle and the Drum" – A Perfect Circle / Part IX: "Cosy in the Rocket" – Psapp / Part X: "Charm Attack" – Leona Naess; "New Slang" – The Shins; "Tears & Rain" – James Blunt.
Chapter 26: Acute angles
There are 3 different types of triangles: equilateral, isosceles and scalene. An equilateral triangle has three identical angles and the isosceles triangle has but two equal sides. The messiest, most uneven and unfair one of them all, however, would have to be the scalene triangle, whose three sides each have a different measurement. Each side of this triangle has a singular story to tell, has a different opinion to share and, unfortunately, when speaking of angles, one of them has no choice other than to accept being the smallest, most acute of them.
The consolation prize for those stuck in a scalene triangle is that, whichever side they're on, all angles added up always equal 180º, which can only mean that, eventually, things will change, possibly inverting to the polar opposite of a current situation.
The blessing and curse of whomever sits on the acute angle is that, as everything shifts, divides and unites itself until the final outcome is there to stay, its lesser size will allow a more panoramic view of unfolding events. He who sits atop the tiniest angle sees and hears more, therefore able to wreak more havoc without drawing suspicion. Of course, the person with such privileged insider knowledge could also seek to lend a helping hand, warning others on what they have yet to understand for themselves.
Somehow, lest they start another story, fit themselves into another triangle or square, the acute angles always miss out; their purpose served, they are no longer integral parts of the shape that will, in time, dissolve with the unraveling of mysteries and fade into nothingness, seeing as nothing lasts forever and given that, when the truth is known, the lies that served to preserve and harm are no longer necessary.
Only to infinity do parallel lines belong.
§
Sitting at a table on the restaurant's terrace, all words that drifted to Tomoe's ears had slurred together and lost meaning long ago.
Her lunch remained untouched as she blankly stared at the glass of white wine before her, sunbeams dancing over and curling into strands of her inky hair.
"Roses, Lisa? Isn't that a little cliché?"
"If it's traditional you want, then roses are your safest bet, Mrs. Yukishiro."
"I'm not too sure we want roses. What are our other options?"
"Well, orchids, for instance, are easy to get all year round."
"What about peonies?"
Looking down at her hands, Tomoe couldn't help but notice that no engagement ring adorned either of her ten fingers. There was no platinum solitaire, no princess-cut, oval-cut or emerald-cut diamond, no cushion-cut or pear-shaped center stone, no sapphire, no rubies and no quartz; there simply was no ring.
One, two three, four five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten: each finger inspected and accounted for was hauntingly bare.
"Thermographical printing is less expensive, but I truly believe that engraving is the way to go."
"I agree. What type of paper do you think we should use?"
"I didn't bring any samples with me, so we can look into that later, but, initially, I would suggest handmade paper; it's much more special."
"As long as floral prints are out of the question… I find them horrendous and awfully tacky. Could you believe that Sheila Pike's niece had the gall to send out pink wedding invitations with hearts and flowers on them? Such bad taste!"
"I'll be sure to leave any floral print samples at home once we get started on the invitations, Mrs. Yukishiro."
Fingering the banded hem of her gray chiffon top, Tomoe mentally ran through the guest list. Curiously enough, it wasn't as tiresome a task as she had anticipated: since she couldn't come up with any names, it took no time at all to reach the point of considering the impracticality of sending out invitations when she very well knew that there would be no wedding. Her mother, however, with the help of Lisa Fiore, wedding planner of wedding planners, seemed to be of another opinion.
"Location is everything," Lisa said, enthusiasm coloring every spoken word, "and ambience is equally important."
"Which interior decorator do you have in mind?"
"Our first focus should be geographical. After that, we can concentrate on creating the proper décor and hiring the right person for the job."
Nodding, Hana Yukishiro smiled wide. "I am going to have to thank Penny for recommending you, Lisa. Her daughter's wedding was wonderful… Would I be mistaken in thinking that you can top it off?"
"I am always up for a challenge, Mrs. Yukishiro," the young wedding planner stated, taking a sip of her wine, her short pixie red hair shockingly vibrant when caught in a slant of golden sunlight.
The day – or rather night – Tomoe left, he didn't say a word. She didn't give him the chance to. She wasn't good at goodbyes, so she simply chose to avoid them altogether.
The shadowy cloak of the night had been both her friend and enemy when she took off. She had made a choice and she couldn't help feeling proud of herself when she hauled the yellow taxi to the curb, her mind saying over and over that she had made the right decision.
Being inside the cab that drove her to the airport, that made its way through busy streets and rushed by neon signs and familiar sites, however, was like being trapped in Amy Lowell's Taxi ( 1 ). She knew then, in her heart, that leaving Santiago would only serve one purpose: to wound her.
Her mind was made up and the tears she never showed proved that she had gone through with the plan all the same. She ran away. Not for the first time in her life, she fled. Straight in the wrong direction.
"…petunias and I told her that was the worst idea I…"
When she left Kenshin, he was pretty silent too. The only difference was that he had known, probably for some time even. They both had. They both had known it was the only smart thing to be done, even if, for a while, their hearts refused to listen.
From the beginning it had been a mistake and they had gone along with it anyway, because of something they felt, because they believed they could move on together, that they could get away from the past if they tried hard enough.
It was funny enough to consider, looking back, how they had held on so steadfastly to such naïve convictions, when neither of them was the least bit foolish or unworldly. How could they have thought things to be so simple? Soujiro was proof enough that, no matter how they chose to lead their lives, their sins would not be forgotten.
"…not the wedding cake that had been a mistake…"
It had been night. He had remained still as a statue, stare lost in a place she had no hope of treading, of pulling him away from. He was drowning and refused to let go of her hand. He hadn't understood at the time that she was nothing but extra weight and that, cutting her loose, it was probably the only solution, the only way to break the surface.
And so, he had only turned his head to look her square in the eye when she was at the door, suitcases in hand and splayed tears on her soul.
He had quickly averted his gaze and resignedly waited for the right sound, the unfair yet right sound.
The door closing and two hearts breaking; oddly enough, the door made more noise.
"…simply the most hideous centerpieces I had ever…"
Her mother: so excited, so driven. A PR expert cleaning up the mess. Milk spilled on the carpet. Porcelain figurine clumsily knocked down.
"…a beautiful dress and the groom looked utterly…"
Well-meaning. But wrong. So very wrong.
"…ready to faint because she couldn't possibly breathe…"
Maybe she had made the wrong decision. Maybe she had come back precisely for that reason, to take one final look at what she wouldn't be missing, at who she truly had to let go of and move on.
The baby wasn't Kenshin's…but that didn't feel wrong. She no longer wanted to share her life with him, as she had often imagined would be the case before and…that was okay. It was more than okay; it was right.
"…told her you can never be too careful with…"
Standing up, Tomoe placed both hands on the white terrace railing and looked out at the ocean, glimmering in the distance. She remembered summers spent sailing with Kenshin.
She remembered the sun, the sea spray and the heated kisses. She remembered the smell of coconut tanning oil, the feel of his hands in her hair and the rushing wind blowing against the sails while rolling waves gently rocked their boat. She was thankful. She smiled, remembering how, at times like that, everything had felt so incredibly right.
But, sadly, it always faded. Just as the summer cooled away into chilly autumn breezes, their mutual happiness was always short-lived and fleeting. When the sun set and the night came, so did recriminations and bitter memories. No matter how much they wanted it, the good times never quite managed to last.
"…an ice sculpture so large was bound to draw attention…"
It was sweet of her mother to try and solve things as best as she knew and scrub at stains until her fingers were raw and bleeding.
Knowing her, she would see the wedding preparations to the very end, making sure any and all damage was repaired, no trace of Tomoe's mistake left behind to draw suspicion, nothing remaining to be seen but spotless mirrors. She loved her mother, now more than ever. But, it was her mistake to make, her wrong to right. She could fix it by herself.
Akira had always said that there was nothing on this earth she couldn't fix. Perhaps that wasn't precisely accurate, but she would take his word for it. On this day, she would draw some strength from his memory and believe in herself, if only for a little while, the way he once did – was it truly so long ago? Sometimes, it felt like only a day or so had passed since they had been inexpertly tugging off their clothes in the backseat of his father's Mercedes Benz or discreetly holding hands at his little sister's piano recital.
"…left behind at a table and got stolen, which was nothing short of…"
It was funny, in a sense, how the past had this way about it, this stranglehold on her, as is the case with most people, that made forgetting it, putting it away in boxes, neatly folding it into drawers or disposing of it as one would garbage, irrationally impossible.
There was no reason or rhyme as to why comatose feelings kept holding on, why no one turned the machines off, why the respirator kept humming in that eerie way, pumping unsolicited air into deflated lungs. At some point, the past had to be laid to rest, requiescat in pace etched across its glossy imagery as is common on headstones.
And yet, she knew that it would always come back to haunt her when making polite small talk at a cocktail party, when going to dinner with friends, when combing her hair or brushing her teeth, when picking out clothes before any type of outing; the past made her who she was and would always be present in anything she said or did. The past would not resign itself to getting killed off like the bad guy skewered by the hero at the end of a children's story, because it was simply unfeasible, because 'to be' in the here and now, required to 'have been' sometime before.
"…bridesmaid had had an affair with the bride's father…"
It could be that the answer was not in denying what had gone before or wishing desperately that things had been different or anything of the sort, but rather in giving past events and all kinds of memories the importance that they merited in the present.
"…turned into a nightmare: poor Betsy had to be taken away in an ambulance…"
Suddenly, in a genial bout of lucidity, it occurred to Tomoe that she knew exactly what to do: it was blatantly obvious that there were three people too many sitting at their table.
"…the priest's words went unheeded and she went right on ahead and…"
It's so easy to lie. To yourself, to everyone around you.
"…George for all he was worth, which was quite a lot, him being the owner of…"
It's simply much harder to open your eyes, take a look around, breathe in the imitations of life surrounding you, the fake words and gestures struggling to be accepted as real and stand up, grab your purse and let your suede ballerina flats guide you to a place you can only hope will be less artificial, less like children playing dress-up and make believe and more like whatever the hell it is that life with you at the helm is supposed to be.
"…everything alright? Where are you going? What are..."
Tomoe only noticed that her mother was screeching in her ear when she was quite a few feet away from the table where, ludicrously, her own flesh and blood and a stranger wearing trendy glasses had spent too much time mapping out pieces of her future, gaps she didn't even know if she wanted to fill.
"…do you think you're doing! Tomoe, answer me!"
It was with mayhap different eyes or maybe in a different light – did it matter which was which? – that the mature young woman more familiar with broken hearts than she ought to be peered at Hana Yukishiro and wondered…just who was the person standing before her?
No, that wasn't it. She knew her mother and she knew the girl her mother called daughter. The question, to be fair, was perhaps far simpler than that.
Tomoe no longer was that person, that woman her family used to know, that Akira used to worship, that Kenshin used to anchor himself to. Where did that Tomoe go? Who was that Tomoe now?
"I'm not marrying him," she spoke, possibly for the first time in over an hour. "I'm not marrying anyone."
"Sweetheart, you have to do the right thing. You really don't have a choice, not if you intend to keep the child."
"Don't you think I could do this by myself, or is it that you really believe, after all this time, that I can't make it on my own?"
"Tomoe, I know you want the child to grow up with a father," the middle-aged blonde explained as soothingly as she could. "We raised you better than this independence flag you obsessively wave at us."
"What if becoming husband and wife isn't an option?" the dark-haired female dared to ask, not defiantly, but rather neutrally.
Mrs. Yukishiro shook her head and focused on keeping it together, seconds away from scandalously blowing up in a public place, well-groomed waiters servicing well-to-do customers flanking them on all sides of the terrace. Why was the girl so pigheaded?
"It's your only option, Tomoe," said she in something of a scolding manner.
"I won't force him into a loveless marriage."
"You don't love him?"
It was with a bittersweet smile that Tomoe's answer rolled off her tongue; the unpleasantly sour aftertaste stuck like a leech to her gums and tonsils.
"I don't want to stop loving him. If he decides to take this on only due to a strong sense of responsibility…I don't think I would handle it well."
It's so easy to lie. To yourself, to everyone around you. It's child's play to keep it up once you're on a roll, to pretend you know exactly who you are or where you want to go and how to go about living every single day of your life as if you have a clue as to what you're doing, as to what it all means.
Being earnest, though fully aware that that doesn't mean you will actually be heard, that's toilsome and brave.
"That's cold feet talking, sweetie. It's alright to be overwhelmed."
Who's to say honesty is ever enough?
§
"…and I wouldn't change a thing. Of course, that line of thinking lasted about ten seconds; after that, I was back to damning what I can only attribute to karmic retribution as he leaned over to pour me more juice and I distinctly smelled Acqua di Gio on him."
"At least he smells nice and not like feet or sweaty armpits, you know? Besides, there's chemistry between y'all and I have a sixth sense for that sort of thing, so don't fret over it anymore."
Sighing, Kaoru stared at the remains of her hamburger with keen disinterest and wiped her fingers off on a napkin.
"Trust me," she said "there's nothing there. I mean, sure, when we aren't pointing fingers or acting stupid and upsetting each other, we get along fine."
"See?" Misao kindly pointed out after swallowing down a gigantic bite of her veggie hotdog.
"That thing is absolutely disgusting, Misao," Kaoru said, screwing up her nose at her best friend, the one going through yet another weird phase of her ongoing existential crisis that now included eliminating meat from her diet.
"You ate a dead animal; that is way yuckier!"
"At least my dead animal tasted decent and not like lipstick smeared straws or bubble wrap."
"May the good people of PETA take pity on your carnivorous soul!"
"I'm omnivorous, but that's beside the point," Kaoru halfheartedly cleared up, ramming a French fry into her mouth.
Misao childishly stuck out her tongue at her know-it-all classmate and continued eating her food…which did not taste like plastic but rather like cardboard dipped in ketchup, not that she would ever admit it.
The mall's food court buzzed with all kinds of sounds, people from all walks of life sitting at small tables, generally in groups of four or pairs, while throngs of shoppers milled about, looking for vacant seats, and a few unrelated babies inexplicably joined together in a deafening chorus of wails.
"I don't know, I just don't understand him," the blue-eyed schoolgirl stated, her voice tentatively rising over the babes' fitful cries. "He's just too darn confusing. I mean, this morning was perfect, we were perfect."
"Do tell," her trusty sidekick suggested, all of a sudden very eager to hear what she hoped would be a saucy tale.
"Well, we talked about a bunch of things during the car ride to school, after sharing the brilliant breakfast I just told you about, and it all just felt really comfortable, d'you know what I mean?"
"Sure."
"Well, there was a bit of bantering – of the good kind – and I playfully slapped his arm and he playfully tugged at my hair and," Kaoru went on before suddenly being forced to a screeching halt by an overzealous creature wearing sunglasses indoors.
"And you flirted and engaged in a friendly tonsil hockey match?" Misao asked excitedly, hoping against hope that she was right on the money.
"That's just it! I don't think he sees me that way!"
"The way he was looking at you when Smiley and I caught up with you guys on Halloween was definitely not brotherly, Kaoru."
"That's right," she exclaimed, her eyebrows drawing together, "the only time I was really certain that maybe, if I wasn't imagining things, he was giving me the funny 'I-want-to-kiss-you' look, you…"
"…I what?"
"You… you….ARGH!"
"I, very loud screaming, what?"
"YOU CALLED MY NAME AND TOTALLY RUINED THE MOMENT!" Kaoru hollered, making the maddening sound of six blaring infants dull to silence almost instantly. Most food court goers were grateful.
"Oops, my bad!"
"You screwed up, then Soujiro stepped into the picture, everything got weird, then we fought and he left and by then I was even more confused than I ever was before and… and I justdon'tgethim!"
Once the desolate girl took a page from Misao's book and let her head dramatically thump against the table, her confidante took advantage of the situation and stole a couple of fries from her tray.
"Let me ask you this," Misao began, thoughtfully munching on an extra crispy French fry. "When he dropped you off today, was there a certain…awkwardness before you got out of the car?"
"Mbeep."
"Sorry?"
"A jeep, he owns a jeep," Kaoru mumbled, forehead glued to the tabletop.
"Whatever. Was there weirdness in the air?"
"Maybe? I don't know." Lifting her face off the wooden surface, she gave her friend's question a moment's thought. "We were talking – I was talking he was listening –, we stopped in front of our school right when I finished speaking and, all of a sudden…there was this silence."
"Tense silence?"
"A little, I guess; it certainly made me want to scamper out of the jeep faster. But then he gripped my hand as I was reaching for the handle."
"Then what did he do, what did he say?"
Kaoru looked off to the side. A couple sitting at the table beside theirs was having what seemed to be the best conversation in the history of conversations, seeing as they couldn't tear their eyes away from one another while they spoke and their hands appeared to be stuck together with crazy glue. When they started making out right then and there, even though he had stuffed his face with loads of onion rings and she had eaten enough garlic bread to kill an entire legion of vampires, she knew that if she ran off to the nearest bathroom stall she'd be ready to puke her guts out on the spot. Was that what love did to people? Did it make them forget things like halitosis and morning breath? Ew.
Kaoru sighed. To make matters worse, no matter how icky, she wanted it. She wanted love. Or maybe a date with Kenshin. Yeah, she'd definitely settle for a date with Kenshin.
"Nothing," she answered as soon as her eyes fell back on her table companion, resting her chin over her folded hands, "he didn't do or say a thing. I turned around to ask for my hand back or let him tell me what was up, whichever, and he just stared at me. Quietly."
"Hello tension!" Misao exclaimed, fanning herself.
Kaoru snorted. "More like 'learn to embrace embarrassment'!"
"You can't actually trip inside of a car, Kaoru, so what happened? Did you choose that exact moment to blow your nose? Did you choke on your own spit or something?"
"Gross, no!" Kaoru yelped. "I didn't do anything, he was the one who patted me on the head and told me to have a nice day at school!"
§
Sanosuke's mouth hung open for an indefinite amount of time. Eventually, he found it within his power to form coherent thoughts. Soon thereafter, he was able to give speaking a try. After stuttering thrice, he finally managed to speak properly.
"You what? You actually patted her on the head?"
"I know."
"You told her to 'have a nice day at school today'?"
"I know."
"Well, did you ask her if she needed any lunch money while you were at it?"
Kenshin scowled. Who the hell did Sano take him for, an idiot?
"Of course not," he argued, "there was no need for that! You see, while she was in the shower, I sort of…"
§
"HE MADE YOU LUNCH?" Misao cried out shrilly. Most food court goers were not pleased.
"It was just a sandwich," Kaoru defended meekly, tracing random patterns on the tabletop with her finger. This was so embarrassing…
Slouching in her seat, Misao felt disappointment and confusion push her into a funk similar to that of her best friend's and let out a puff of air. "I don't get him," she said.
"I do. He thinks the time we spend together is part of the Big Brother mentoring organization program he applied to. He thinks I'm a stupid teenage girl with a pile of Seventeen magazines for brains."
A panicked scream followed by a loud crash resounded as a small little boy – who should have been on Ritalin but wasn't – knocked into a stroller occupied by a sleeping infant, making it roll away from a woman's loose grasp – a nanny who had been scolding a modern version of the Von Trapp children, trying to keep them in line –, which lead her to, of course, shout out loud in alarm as she witnessed a remake of a famous Battleship Potemkin scene – minus the stairs and the communism, though – until the pram halted its swift race through the food court by colliding into a customer, who, in his efforts to grab a hold of the pushchair, involuntarily dropped his bags, the sound of broken glass merchandise resounding through the area.
There was a beat of silence as the nanny ran toward the still-shocked man and the baby carriage, respectful bystanders letting them have their moment, curious onlookers eager to see what kind of drama would next unfold. Either way, the event didn't hold people's attention for long; the baby was safe, the man didn't seem angry about one or several of his buys being in pieces and the nanny didn't try to kill the hyperactive kid that had started the chain of events: there just weren't enough soap opera-like elements to hold the audience's interest.
Misao blinked owlishly a few times. "But…but…I swear that I felt something when you two were together," she continued, the gravity of the situation that had just taken place having never sunk in to begin with. "I'm never wrong about this kind of thing!"
"Deal with it." Blowing bubbles into her milkshake, Kaoru watched the couple from before, lips still locked tightly in an unending French kiss; apparently, they were going for some sort of record. "No one will ever be able to figure out Kenshin Himura."
A year later, the nanny that was repeatedly thanking the man that had saved her ass from getting fired was exchanging wedding vows with him at a small chapel in his hometown. By then, the couple that our main character had been both disgusted at and envious of had broken up, moving on to greener pastures…or rather, other people. For her, make that plenty of other people.
"But…"
And the many men and women ordering food, setting down their trays at empty tables, wiping their mouths with paper napkins and pushing themselves off their chairs on that very same day, were none the wiser. There is no such thing as a free lunch; it's the fee that's not always either cash or charge.
§
"But I'm not interested in her, not that way!"
"Don't you think you're kind of too old for denial?"
"She's just a schoolgirl!"
"Funny how you've made that real clear today, hunh?"
Sano was trying to make him feel guilty, for one thing. Too bad the lazy jerk didn't know that, as far as Kenshin was concerned, he didn't have to waste his breath trying; the moment she stepped out of the Grand Vitara, his forehead had meet the steering wheel…again and again and again.
"I didn't mean anything by it," he said, sinking further into the couch. "Look, she fell asleep on our doorstep waiting up for me while I was, of all places, at Tomoe's. Making her lunch felt like the right thing to do; I didn't mean to treat her like a child."
"'Of all places, at Tomoe's?' You feeling guilty about that all of a sudden?" Sanosuke asked, quirking an eyebrow while trying to balance a pencil on his nose.
Kenshin sighed and looked down at his empty hands. "I should have been here; she spent the night sleeping in the hallway."
The yellow pencil clattered onto the coffee table.
"Hold it," the football player began, a pensive scowl on his face, "Kaoru actually made you feel guilty about being with Tomoe?" He grinned mischievously. "Tell me again how you don't like her, please."
"That's not the point," the redhead gritted out, looking at their reflection on the blue TV screen.
"You're such a girl, you know that? So you like her, does that have to be complicated?"
"I never said I liked her."
"You never said you didn't."
Reaching for the remote control, the brunet turned off the TV and walked over to the DVD player.
"You don't understand, Sano…" Kenshin muttered, once again staring at his hands, innocently sitting in his lap. With reigned anger, he curled them into fists, his knuckles going white.
His roommate noticed the change going over him, the barely kept calm, but decided to ignore it, soundlessly going through the motions of putting away the movie they had just seen instead.
"What don't I understand, Kenshin? What's there not to understand?"
§
"Him. I don't understand him."
Taking off her sunglasses, Misao gazed at the girl in front of her with all the seriousness she could muster.
"Kaoru, can I give you a piece of advice?" she asked.
"Oh Lord!" was Kaoru's reply as she smashed her face against the palm of her hand. "Have I really sunk this low? Now I actually need romantic advice from the girl obsessed with a guy so into himself that he can't even see she exists? My life sucks!"
"Well that hurt," the green-eyed high school senior stated evenly, chucking a fry grown cold at her soul sister.
Removing the soggy potato strip from her shirt, Kaoru pouted openly.
"I was patted on the head like a needy puppy and belittled by a boy today; if I'm going down, I plan on taking the whole world with me."
"Good to know. So, as I was saying before you stole the drama queen of the year award from under my nose, I have a word of advice for you, my dearest friend."
"I suppose it couldn't hurt…"
"Focus your attention elsewhere."
"Elsewhere?"
"Yes, elsewhere. As in 'on another guy' elsewhere."
Kaoru wasn't sure whether to believe her ears or not. Was that it? Did she think it was really that simple? It had to be a mistake, surely. After all, she was the one who had eyes for no one else but Aoshi, and that was clearly a loosing bet. She couldn't mean it…could she?
"That's your brilliant advice?"
"Kaoru, he's too complicated." Misao took a deep breath and thought of a delicate way to phrase her worries. "You guys haven't even held hands and already he's making your life hell. He's bad news."
Seeing as though Kaoru could do nothing more but gape, Misao took her stunned reaction as a sign that she was slowly digesting the information and ventured on.
"Look, I know the good girls always want the bad boy, but…"
It was hysterical laughter that made her trail off. Not her own of course, for she had been dead serious and, incidentally, she had thought her friend understood the gravity of that which she was trying to convey. Apparently, if unbridled laughter was any indication, she had thought wrong.
"Kenshin Himura…ha…a…ha ha...a...a bad… hi hi…boy?" Kaoru managed to squeeze out through a fit of giggles. "Misao, have you seen him?"
It was simply too much. As soon as the question was out of her mouth, Kaoru was laughing again, her face going red from the exertion, her eyes tearing up.
"Kaoru, I'm serious!"
"I know! That's…ha ha… what makes it even…ha ha ha… funnier!"
"Look, you don't know him that well!" the aspiring actress protested, slamming her fist against the table. "A guy that complicated…who knows what he could be hiding!"
"Oh please, Misao! What, you think he hides dead bodies in the trunk of his SUV, or something? You've been seeing too many movies…again."
§
"Soujiro Seta is her best friend's cousin? That's like something straight out of the movies, man!"
Kenshin had to agree. Jungian synchronicity had nothing on this situation; neither did regular coincidences. This, this was just plain cruel.
"All the more reason for me to stay away from her."
In Sano's opinion, the architect-to-be was insane. A dangerous guy was that close to the spunky girl and all he could think of was add this to his list of reasons to pull away from her?
"Or not."
The redhead shook his head and leaned against his drawing table. Sanosuke simply did not understand and there was no time to fill in the blanks now that his former classmate was around.
"You've heard the stories Sano, you know he's trouble."
Sure, he'd heard parts of what had happened but he knew a lot had been left out, a shitload in fact. That was what worried him even more. The little knowledge he had was bad; to think that there could be so much more and so much worse that he wasn't in on…that didn't sound pretty.
"Exactly. And now he knows that you have some sort of contact with Kaoru."
Kenshin stiffened ever so slightly. Soujiro wouldn't lay a finger on her, would he? No, she was his cousin's closest friend; he wouldn't want his family getting involved…would he? No, of course not, there was no chance in hell…was there?
"He wouldn't get her involved."
Sanosuke stopped pacing and stared at the man standing in front of him: had he just said what he thought he'd said?
"Wouldn't he? I don't mean to criticize your judgment call or anything, but come on!"
Rationalize. He had to rationalize, break it all down into parts. He knew Soujiro – or at least he had once – and the guy didn't really have much of an honor code. But he did receive orders, and whoever was calling the shots wouldn't have let Soujiro approach him like that and give up the element of surprise unless they had another card up their sleeve and Kaoru was not to be a part of the game.
"He gave me a warning, didn't he? If he was going to get her involved, he wouldn't have been as upfront."
In theory, sure. The brunet agitatedly ran a hand through his messy hair. They were dealing with a rat-faced scumbag here, anything was possible, couldn't Kenshin see that?
"What did he warn you about?"
There was the rub, he hadn't really warned Kenshin about anything specific. There was where his rationalizing got ripped to shreds and made into confetti at a county fair. Kenshin did not know what he had been warned about or against, for that matter. Without knowing enough, he couldn't truly assure that Kaoru wouldn't be in danger. Where Soujiro was involved, anything was possible.
"He didn't give me details. I'm calling Hiko tonight to see if he knows anything useful."
Sanosuke gave a sharp nod and remained silent. This was bad. This was very bad.
"Sano, I want you to be on your toes, okay? He's plotting something and I'm certain he knows who I live with, who my teachers are, the works, so you have to be careful now."
Well, duh! Didn't that apply to everyone else in his best friend's life, though? Didn't that apply to Kaoru too? How was she to know to be on the lookout if no one told her anything? Things could easily get out of hand if any of Kenshin's closer acquaintances were unprepared.
"You were a guest at her house, Kenshin; that sneaky rat could try and use her against you."
It was a horrible thought, one he wouldn't dwell on, not for a second.
"He won't involve her."
§
"I love strawberry ice-cream!"
"I like chocolate better myself."
"It's a shame Misao had to leave before the movie ended; she loves filling up on tutti-frutti ice-cream here afterwards."
"My aunt did say it was urgent in that text message."
"I hope everything's alright and it wasn't too urgent, that's all."
"I'm sure everything's just fine; the dramatic vein runs in our family, after all."
Smiling, Kaoru nodded firmly and got right back down to business, gobbling down another delicious, creamy spoonful of ice-cream that her dad would be sure to make her work off at the dojo.
After talking with Misao at lunch and getting nowhere, seeing as the girl's solution to Kaoru's blues was to forget about it and aim for another target, they had both bought tickets for a showing of Liquid Sky, the cinema's screens having been overtaken by a bunch of punk avant-garde films, some sort of eighties revival festival being the cause. While standing in line, Soujiro had, as they'd all agreed upon, met up with the two students and offered to buy them all the sweets and popcorn they wanted; in Kaoru's book, that made him her new best friend.
"Say, how did you come about my old friend Kenshin?"
Glancing up and beyond the dark pink scoops of ice-cream that had previously garnered all her attention, Kaoru scowled at her table companion.
"Do you or do you not want to talk about this?" she asked. At his blank stare, she closed her eyes and pinched her nose. "Neither of you ever seem to make up your minds!"
"I'm just curious, Kaoru," he explained, resting both elbows on the glass tabletop. "You can't blame me for that; it's genetic, or have you not met my cousin?"
"I've shared a lifetime of stories that will warm the hearts of readers of my future autobiography with her. If curiosity is hereditary, then it's also contagious, and I've known her too long to not have caught that bug, so I'm curious too pal, but I don't see you volunteering any information."
Smiling kindly, Soujiro stared her scowl away, replacing it with a rosy blush. In retaliation, and in a last ditch effort to keep his mind off her flustering self, the young girl took to kicking the legs of his wispy metal chair.
"Things between me and Kenshin are really complicated, Kaoru." His serious tone got her to slow her kicks to a stop. "Besides, I'm not sure he would want you knowing about how everything was back in the good old days."
Kaoru snorted.
"You make it sound as if 'the good old days' weren't so great or legal."
Soujiro's smile broadened.
"He's a pretty private guy, our Ken." At her murderous glare, he sighed and decided to give her a more fitting explanation for his reluctance to talk about their mutual acquaintance. "Look, already he's not too taken with me as of now; I would rather avoid making the situation worse by bringing up things he may not want you to know of."
Kaoru's eyes threatened to fly out of her sockets: were there ever two bigger pains in the ass on the face of the planet than Kenshin Himura and Soujiro Seta!
"What could you possibly know about him that would be so incriminating?" she asked in the whiniest tone of voice she could muster.
"I was his roommate at an all-boys boarding school, that should be answer enough!"
It was with a sigh that the dark-haired teenager resigned herself to forever being out of the loop in regards to "those two idiot boys", as she referred to them in her own mind. There was one heck of a story there, she could smell it, but neither one of them was willing to share. Elite prep school kids: always so selfish…
Stirring her spoon in the thick raspberry-colored pool of her melting ice-cream, she wondered if there was at least one way of making Sou break. Kenshin would never crack, not unless her life depended on his speaking up – which would never be the case, really – so her only option was to get Misao's cheery cousin yakking. Maybe some humor would do the trick?
"Let me take a wild guess, mmkay? Kenshin probably doesn't want anyone to know that, oh I don't know, say…that he sleeps with his thumb in his mouth?"
"Or that he snores."
"Does he?" Kaoru asked loudly, leaning forward in her seat, mischievous anticipation written all over her face.
Soujiro waved his hand in a dismissive manner. "Nope, he's quiet as a mouse come bedtime." He had the grace to try and conceal some of his amusement when she pouted, disappointment getting the better of her.
"Does he sleep with a teddy bear?" she insisted, perking up again.
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Oh, come on! You must have some dirt on him you can share with me!"
Suddenly eyeing her quite intensely, the good-humored young man sitting before her seemed to vanish in an instant, an entirely different person taking his place, frown lines she had never noticed before appearing at the corners of his mouth.
"You really want to know?"
The way he bit out the words made her regret she had ever spoken, had ever been so pushy. That line of thought took her back to the conversation she had had with Kenshin before breakfast. Why was it that she always had to keep pushing the envelope, some sort of masochistic part of her treading on thin ice even though she could read the sign that advised her against doing so perfectly? It was the strangest thing, seeing Soujiro without a big toothy grin on his face. Dark circles beneath his eyes that she had never noted were there made her come to see just how sallow his skin looked.
"…I guess," Kaoru found herself saying, even if she wasn't sure knowing whether the architecture major had some sort of Achilles heel or not mattered much anymore.
The few seconds of tense silence that preceded his words had Kaoru's stomach twisting itself into knots and tangles, the luminous ice-cream parlor with its butter-hued walls and colorful booths abruptly awash in muted tones.
"…He leaves the toilet seat up."
Just as quickly as the change had come over him, in the space of exactly two blinks, Soujiro was all smiles again and Kaoru felt the life that had seeped out of her pouring back in as she realized that, all along, he had been pulling her leg, merely putting on a show.
Once again the world was sunny and every shade was vibrant and, she couldn't help it, but she started laughing, such relief she couldn't contain, and, without giving it a second thought, somewhere in the back of her mind, she filed away the other Soujiro she had seen, the one she never wanted to lay eyes on ever again, the one that was most likely the real thing but that no one bothered to accredit.
And so, like everyone else, she failed to accept just who was sitting in front of her, she conveniently erased the memory of shadows in his eyes and only saw a dazzling smile, beaming so bright that it outshone the rest of the picture.
§
"You know how it goes." Soujiro chanced a glance at the rearview mirror. "Best of friends who start drifting apart…eventually both boys go their separate ways."
Fidgeting in the passenger seat, Kaoru folded her arms and sulked. Did every single male specimen on this earth think that she was retarded?
"I don't mean to pry or anything, but you mean to tell me that the kind of hostility that I witnessed the other day at my house was free of charge?"
There was no way to miss the skepticism she threw at him. Weaving in and out of traffic in his green Sedan, somehow the conversation had worked itself back to the one subject he did not want to be discussing. Sure, a part of him wanted to tell his cousin's best friend the truth, but now was not the time; such information couldn't go to waste, it had to be delivered at exactly the right moment. He could only think of one way to get her off his back: charm her towards a new topic of discussion they could both chat over without ruffling anyone's feathers in the process.
"You're right, Kaoru," he said, an apologetic smile plastered on his face. "I treated you like you wouldn't know better. Sorry about that, it wasn't my intention to insult your intelligence; I simply seem to have a hard time talking about it."
"It's okay," she relented, slightly put out by the 'Kaoru's-just-a-silly-schoolgirl-who-wouldn't-know-better' déjà vu Kodak moment, but thankful for at least getting an apology this time around.
"No it's not," he disagreed swerving the car to avoid running over a jaywalker. "You're not a little kid anymore and I should know better. It's just… The last time I saw you, you were…"
"…Thirteen and underdeveloped?"
Soujiro involuntarily slammed his foot on the gas pedal and got flipped off by a blonde crossing the street.
"Tactless, but true," he said, all too glad that no one had died because of his small slipup; Kaoru certainly was a bit too much at times, wasn't she?
"I understand," the girl went on, completely oblivious to the near accident that her candor had almost incited, engrossed in rolling down the window instead. "Take you for instance: you've certainly filled out. You're not as gangly as I remember, Sou. Not that that stopped me from having a crush on you."
"I remember that," he reminisced fondly, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel as he waited for the light to change. "Constant refills of lemonade, an avid listener: it was kind of cool."
"I used to drink up your words as if they were poetry. You were my very own Walt Whitman!"
Blue eyes fixed upon the red traffic light, Soujiro recalled that last summer with perfect accuracy. Even then, she had been kind of cute, sweet and defiant all at once. Smarter than most girls her age, her nose was always buried deep in some thick book, though oddly enough that didn't make her at all geeky. Perhaps the fact that she was fully capable of beating up any boy her age and was pretty decent at basketball helped.
When he had called her an avid listener, he hadn't been lying. Though at the time she had only been thirteen, he had been able to talk to her about practically anything. Patiently sitting beside him, she had listened to every spoken word as though nothing else in the world were as important. It had felt nice to be someone's top priority, even if he hadn't appreciated it for what it was truly worth.
The light turned green.
"I'm sorry I didn't pay you much attention back then."
Turning her head away from the open window, Kaoru offered him a gentle smile, her silky hair blowing in all directions.
"I don't know, you were pretty kind to me. It must have been so annoying to have a prepubescent stalker at your heels."
"I guess…" he spoke unconvinced, beeping the car horn in annoyance when a cyclist carelessly raced past them, putting his own life at risk without a second thought.
Why was it that so many people were willing to risk death by being inattentive? Why was it that he didn't give a damn if they crashed and he died?
"You have to take a left by that brick building next to the hardware store," she directed, glad that he had insisted on taking her home; she hated riding on the bus, even if, on certain occasions, she had no choice but to suck it up and climb aboard.
"Things are definitely looking more familiar now."
"That's because we're almost home free, silly."
Getting immersed in radio waves as she tried to find just the right frequency, Kaoru jabbed button after button on the car radio, crossly commenting on the lack of good mainstream music and, occasionally, outright insulting a specific singer or band.
"You're one of a kind, Kamiya," he said, laughing at her antics. Calmly, she shrugged.
After that, just as the high school senior had predicted, they swiftly reached her lovely, suburban-like neighborhood, the one Kenshin Himura had an unnatural fascination with, and before long they were pulling up at her driveway.
"Oh, you don't have to kill the ignition on my account; I know I can be a talker, but I promise I'm good and done for the day and will quit bothering you now."
"Did you ever stop to think that I might actually enjoy talking with you?"
Parked in the semi-dark – the sun was slowly setting, the powder blue sky tinged with streams of dark violet and hazy spots of fuchsia –, Kaoru was hoping against hope that the red on her cheeks had gone unnoticed, what with the afternoon's end being somewhat opaque and all.
"Not questioning it, just letting you know you're off the hook," she explained squeakily, her eyes wandering towards the door.
"You make it sound as if I've been babysitting you all afternoon," he said.
"Well, you kind of have been, haven't you?"
"That wasn't a question; you genuinely meant it," he pondered in a thoughtful tone of voice. "Kaoru, we've both grown. The age difference right now isn't the same as it was all those years ago."
"I know I suck at math, but numbers are numbers and the age difference is still the same, Sou."
"In numbers. Mentally, the distance has shortened quite a bit. Right now, we're pretty much on the same track."
Something inside Kaoru snapped, but not all at once and not violently. Instead, it began to crumble, little by little, like sand from an hourglass, slipping into a chasm that knew no bottom to hit. Why couldn't Kenshin think or feel that way about her?
Faking a smile, the girl faced the person who saw her in a way she wanted to be seen by someone who would most likely never be that open minded.
"I have to go; I have homework."
Soujiro knew all about fake smiles. Hers was as false as they come, especially since her inexperience in that area gave it a rigidity that pinpointed it as phony, at least to the trained eye. He would not comment on it, though; she was stubborn and would be sure to keep her secrets to herself, whether he asked about what was obviously bothering her or not.
"Good luck with that. Will I be seeing you soon?"
"You have my number and are related to Misao; I'd say it would be weird if you didn't."
"So, just to be clear, I can call you…"
And like a bucket of cold water getting poured over her head, Kaoru was suddenly aware that it was very likely that Soujiro Seta was hitting on her. She didn't want to believe it, the notion way too out there to make sense…but that sixth sense of hers was beeping like crazy…should she buy into it or discard it as vanity and her juvenile mind playing tricks on her?
"Sure, free will works that way," she responded evasively, a ditzy pop princess having taken over her body right about then. "Marvelous, isn't it?"
Chuckling, Soujiro had to hand it to her; she wasn't outright letting him down, she was simply skirting round the subject. Then again, she probably wasn't sure of what his intentions were either.
"I am thankful for free will, Kaoru," he stated, his blue eyes seeking hers out, "but that wasn't really what I meant."
"…I don't get it."
"It's always the smart ones…"
"Hey! Are you making fun of me?" Shooting him a glare, Kaoru decided that he was probably kidding around. Either that or he was a really straightforward kind of guy…and that wasn't at all like the Soujiro she remembered. "Because, I have to say, I have some stories on you that pale in comparison to me not keeping up with your line of thought, pal."
"I'm sure you do," he said, the frown on her face funny as hell, though he was sure that she had been going for scary, "and you're right, I shouldn't poke fun at you for being cute."
She was tired. How many times in the past two months had she gone on a blushing spree? Getting flustered all the time was really starting to tick her off!
"Oh…I wouldn't put it that way…"
"No, a girl like you wouldn't."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
Anger was better. Anger she could deal with. Cousin 'Smiley' playing with her loose screws, on the other hand, she wasn't up to handling.
"That you're not full of yourself. You're not the type," Soujiro stated quite simply.
She should have been flattered. Heck, she was, but…how could she focus on feeling so when all that came to mind after such words was how easily they could have come from someone else's mouth. Kenshin spoke like that. The construction of his sentences was eerily similar.
So, she should have been flattered, and she was; it just wasn't enough to chase random thoughts of Kenshin away.
"You know…I couldn't help but notice. You and Kenshin, you both have some sort of parallel form of phrasing things. It's kind of…can I be frank?"
"I'm as much for honesty as the next guy."
A raindrop landed on the car hood, then another and another.
"Okay, then. It's sort of unsettling." Quickly, she hurried on, realizing that, though she in no way meant it to be so, her words sounded slightly offensive. "Don't get me wrong, he's not nearly as cheerful as you and you're not all that alike, it's just the way you two talk…it's so similar sometimes that it's uncanny."
Rainwater began pelting harshly against the windshield.
"It could be the schooling. That and too much time rooming together." Sheepishly, Soujiro ran his fingers through his coarse hair. "Sorry if it bothers you."
"No, no, not at all!" she uttered instantly, waving her hands in front of her in dead on denial. "It's just weird, you know?"
"Because you would rather he be the one in the car right now?"
Kaoru's wide blue eyes fixed on the large droplets splattering against the glass, the rain teeming mercilessly, a piano intro drifting softly from the car radio into her ears, mixing itself with the loud pounding of both her racy heart and the downpour. How was she supposed to answer that? Why would he ask something like that anyhow? Closing her eyes for something of a split second, she tried to calm herself and think.
"And then you do something like that and you both could be as different as night and day." Looking down at her lap, she swallowed the lump in her throat and willed herself to see her flimsy attempt at vagueness through. "I might be wrong, but he doesn't seem capable of being so upfront."
"Oh, I wouldn't underestimate him." Though his lips quirked upwards, the smile did not reach his eyes. "He can be resourceful when he gives it a go."
"I guess."
"So, you really aren't going to give me a straight answer, are you?" It was imperative that he know just how deep her feelings ran for his enemy…for multiple reasons. "Oh well, it can't be helped, I suppose."
"No, no…I'm happy to be here with you! Today was fun."
No matter how she put it, Kaoru still felt like she didn't inject enough honesty into that statement to make it sound real, which was a shame, really, because she would be lying if she said she hadn't enjoyed the company of the perfectly nice boy sitting beside her. Maybe it wasn't truth that was lacking, maybe it was enthusiasm.
"Maybe there can be a repeat?"
"Why not?"
"Swell!"
Kaoru laughed. Now, he sure as hell didn't lack enthusiasm!
"Swell? Who says 'swell'?" she teased. "Are you a hardcore Pleasentville fan, or something?"
"I think I've been watching too many old movies at aunt Nanami's house lately…"
"Enough said. I spent an entire month classifying everything I liked – including my friends – as either 'pretty' or 'gay' after your dear cousin gave me a Westside Story overdose: she hates Maria so much that she keeps watching that movie over and over again just to slam her."
A minute turned to two, two turned to five, and five turned to ten. It reached the point where, twenty minutes later, only the tip of Kaoru's shoe was poking out the car door, her foot steadying itself against the wet ground as the other at once followed suit.
Preparing to make a run for it, she pulled the back of her shirt up over head, by all means struggling to retain her modesty, and with a quickly uttered goodbye sprang out of the automobile, slammed the door and sprinted for the gate. She was a hilarious sight, dashing home in 'I am the great Cornholio!' ( 2 ) style.
Breathless and thoroughly soaked, she waited for the sound of the car's engine rumbling to life and tires rolling away. Once she confirmed Soujiro was gone, she leaned her back against the gate and closed her eyes.
The rain was freezing cold, but she couldn't find the energy to jog on to the front door, slip inside her house and put the day behind her.
Her long hair stuck to her cheeks, to her neck and a strand or two of the dark unbound mass found themselves tickling her unsmiling lips. Salty, icy rivulets trickled down her bare arms, her damp shirt and blue jeans glued tightly to her body like a second skin. Water dripped from her thick eyelashes and the vaguely rounded tip of her nose. She was lost and feared stepping inside a place so familiar and comfortable as home; she would find no answers in the kitchen, the living room or her bedroom.
"Today was fun…"
Enveloped in the pitter-patter of the heavy rainfall, the young girl sought a measure of peace that was constantly just out of reach. The zen experience Eugen Herrigel ( 3 ) had talked about continually eluded her, which came as no surprise because finding herself in such a state of mind would not come from seeking it. Drat.
"…and Soujiro has always been a great guy…"
Looking up at the rainy sky, Kaoru's expression softened, her annoyance swiftly replaced by a kind of sorrowful resignation that had rarely graced her face.
"…but he was right."
It hurt. The raindrops landing in her open eyes hurt, but she couldn't bring herself to close them or stop staring up at an infinite space that harbored reasoning and explanations that she would most assuredly never be privy to.
"I couldn't give him a straight answer."
Chewing on her bottom lip, she forced the lump rising in her throat to get the memo and take a hike.
"I couldn't give myself one."
With a sigh, Kaoru let her head bob forward, her shoulders sagging.
"I don't want to…"
Going the extra mile, she made herself take the few steps that would lead her to the front porch and stopped. It hurt. It hurt to but stand there, glaring at the door, waiting for her mind to make a decision, waiting for her heart to take the hint and move on to the next guy. It simply wasn't happening, was it?
"Why don't I want to?"
Only she did. She wanted to forget Kenshin, forget he ever patted her on the head, forget he ever saved her from too many fractures to count, forget he made her breakfast, forget she liked being with him, forget how smart he was, forget how interesting it was to talk to him, forget how clueless he could be, forget how timid he could get. She wanted to forget him and be happy that a great guy like Soujiro was, apparently, attracted to some aspect of her, wanted to see her again, be near her sometimes and find out if she could cook or not, if she was smart, if she could make for interesting conversation, if she was ditzy at times and if she acted shy on occasion. He wanted to see her again and she wanted to forget and see him too. But she couldn't.
"It's not really a choice, is it?"
At least, if she did, her heart wouldn't be in it.
"I just can't change how…"
Unlocking the door was easy. What was hard was realizing she was at an impasse with herself.
"…how I feel."
Sluggishly, she walked in, fumbled for the light switch and quietly shut the door.
§
Footnotes:
( 1 ): Amy Lowell (1874-1925) was an American poetess whose book of poems Sword Blades and Poppy Seeds contains the herein cited poem, The Taxi, which reads: "Streets coming fast/ One after the other/ Wedge you away from me" and "Why should I leave you / to wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night?" amongst other things.
( 2 ): If you've ever seen Beavis and Butthead, then you know what I'm talking about…
( 3 ): Eugen Herrigel: author of Zen in the art of archery, a book that influenced the classic Zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance, by Robert M. Pirsig.
Reviewer Responses:
To enroute: Updating quickly is, apparently, not my style. Sorry about that, life just tends to happen, you know? As you can see – or rather read – Kenshin and Kaoru had no further discussions…our girl simply got patted on the head and kind of belittled. Aside from that, both characters are living in Paradise, ne? Here's to hoping I update faster next time around!
To gwkitty: I hope you still think it doesn't matter how long I take to update considering how much you all had to wait this time. You know what? Sometimes, all I want to do is go to the movies and fill up on my share of good old fashioned unrealistic romance. I can't help it; I'm a girl. That being said, it's not my goal in writing to produce overly sappy and sentimental works of fiction, so I'm thrilled that, despite the nice little moment shared between the 2 lead characters in chapter 25, you still saw it as nothing more than a – granted sweet – slice of life. Also, I'm glad you liked the idea of "a slice of life", as I not-so-cleverly dubbed it, better than if I had gone all-out on corny and sugary. It's weird, isn't it, how the people we like make us feel conflicting emotions? Like everything in life, it has its good and its bad side; there's a bit of duct tape in all of us and in everything that moves us – the light and the dark side. K&K… I have big plans for those two, I swear and I guarantee that they will indeed kiss…when the time is right. Bye now!
To Rhapsody 07: It makes me so happy that you love this story – I swear I'll never tire of you saying it! Constructive criticism is very important and I value it greatly, but rest assured that I am human and, as such, shameless praise is more than okay with me too. Thanks for the support and until next time!
To pyramidgirl89: You have no idea what a compliment it is for me to be compared to the likes of Jane Austen in the slightest way! Oops…I did it again: if you have eyes then you can't have missed that in this chapter I once again mixed 3rd person narrative with 1st person thoughts. It's just something I can't control, the writing flows and I don't ask myself too many questions. I'm glad you like long reviewer responses; I tend to talk a lot if the subject interests me and since writing is practically my life – if I were a published author I could actually say that and it would make more sense – it's like I should come with an off switch once someone gets me started. Thank you for the encouragement. I'll do my best and try and not take too long to update. Take care.
To Crewel: SxM moments? Boy am I glad you're talking about Sano and Megumi and are in no way making reference to sexual deviations involving whips and bondage! Yes, I too love that couple and will get back to them shortly…I hope. The thing is, though I do work with an outline, inspiration takes me on wild rides and leads me to scenes and character development that I hadn't originally considered pursuing. Anyway, the point is that SxM moments are guaranteed; I just don't know if the next chapter will have anything to do with them as a couple or even altogether. Thanks for taking the time to review; it means a lot to me.
To De Lazy Lime: First off, this chapter goes out to you for inspiring me. Remember when you said that Rilo Kiley's "Science Vs Romance" could be this fic's main musical theme? It's actually from that very comment that the mathematical approach of this chapter originated from. That being said: how naughty of you to have forgotten to review chapter 24! Then again, going on a road trip sounds way better than sitting in front of a computer screen for lengthy periods of time and… Don't mind me; talk of cruising around reminded me of how much I miss the holidays! I want my days free from academic responsibilities back! Moving on… It's funny, isn't it, that Kenshin has seen Kaoru asleep so often but there's barely any intimacy between them? Kenshin is a private person and, personally, I don't think that's such a terrible thing; we all have pieces of ourselves that we don't want to give away, including silly stuff that in the long run won't make a difference. We are creatures of habit and Kenshin is merely accustomed to keeping things to himself. It's hard for Kaoru – and many of this story's readers, actually – to understand that, but that's exactly what makes for a great relationship, isn't it? The kind that challenges you, gets you to understand and have patience with things you wouldn't have given a second thought to before. The kind that inspires personal growth. Next time, I'll post the frittata recipe for you, okay? I wish you good days, good company, good food and good music. Until next time!
To Queeney: I'm actually not a breakfast person – water, coffee or tea for me, at most – but if a guy like Kenshin offered to cook me breakfast, I certainly wouldn't complain. I take it you wouldn't either, am I right? Thanks for the positive response for last chapter and for your patience. Bye!
To Kakashi Man: …I'm blushing from the tips of my toes to the roots of my hair…
To missaw: "Awesomes" are awesome: you know that! Hihihi. Seriously, though, it is always great to hear from you and I do love your "awesomes"; they are indeed the perfect pick-me-up on a bad day. I think I was the one to write about the "girlish squeals of delight" but since I can't be sure unless I go back and re-read every chapter – which I will be doing and have done before for editing purposes – I won't confirm it. I take it this chapter won't be getting any fluffy bags of cotton candy or marshmallows, hunh? I guess this piece was more of an angst/comedy tug of war. I hope you liked it, all the same.
To Aryanne: I just want to say that I feel very bad about not having as of yet read the final chapter of "Silver Cross"; I intend to get right on it as swiftly as possible. It's hard to download Jim Brickman songs – I'm guessing he's not that popular – but I managed to hear one, though not the song you mentioned, and I liked it. I have a strange fixation for anything piano and I love it when people tune me in on good music, so thank you for the recommendation. The last three paragraphs of last chapter actually gave me tons of work: I was very unsure as to how the closing of the chapter should go until I discovered Coldplay's "Til Kingdom Come" which really got me in the mood I wanted to suggest to the readers. Funny thing: hardly anyone noticed the 'peeing in a cup' line and it was key and yeah, I do believe you when you say it peaked your interest…I'm not saying anything else, lest I give everything away. Kenshin and Kaoru are hopeless, aren't they? And, if you think about it, it's mostly Kenshin's fault so I'm thinking that when he finally figures out what he wants, he's gonna have a whole lot of sucking up to do. To appease the mind, they will not take years of being friendly before they take the plunge; still, they both need time to sort it all out. Kaoru might be able to take the risk and rush into a relationship but Kenshin has experience and thinks he knows better. You decide if he actually does know better. Once again, I look forward to reading the final installment of your story – Congratulations! Letting go of such a beautiful piece must be hard.
To almira: Almira sounds Spanish; I like it! Back on track, for the record your review did not confuse me; I totally understood what you meant. Kaoru's personality is what makes her loveable, not her looks. It should always be that way, but who said life was fair? Thank you for the feedback.
To Ocean Fish: You have abandoned me, you know? You don't e-mail me anymore or anything. I miss your e-mails. As for the review, I have but one complaint: you've been shortening 'em! No fair! What's going on with Misao and Aoshi is…a mystery. Stay tuned to find out the truth behind their weird behavior.
To Mad-4-Manga: You have flattered me to the point of excess…not to say that I wasn't immensely pleased by your review. As far as writing novels go, that's a dream of mine and, if possible, I intend to convert this fanfic into a novel – I'm figuring it's okay for a first try, right? It can be kind of immature and childish at times, but the first run is always more of a learning experience than anything else, or so I've been told. Who knows, maybe I'll get lucky and, one day, become what I've always wanted to be: a published author. The past life flashes are more general than a reincarnation side story. Since everyone on the site knows about the actual manga this is based upon, I figured I could use imagery the readers would be familiar with to introduce the concept of souls recognizing each other. I don't know if I believe in soul mates, but I would like to think that the soul can reach out and feel a pull towards someone just as well as eyes can see an attractive physique. Maybe later on, I'll go into that again, but there's not going to be remembrance of a past life, only vague hints as to the fact that kindred souls tend to stick together if indeed there is such a thing as reincarnation. Your mom read a part of the play? Do you think she liked it? The play is the hardest thing to write because it is so much more poetic and because it is meant to reveal Kaoru's talent. She's not good at math, she's not a history buff, she doesn't take school all that seriously – she studies, but she doesn't believe that's going to prepare her for the life she envisions for herself – so, if she writes, if that's what she likes, then she has to be good at it. I can't say what Mrs. Shinomori has or doesn't have because spoilers aren't my cup of tea. You'll see. Kenshin and Kaoru are a work in progress. They're a mess but…when it's meant to be, it's meant to be. Thank you so much for such inspiring and encouraging feedback. I hope to hear from you soon.
To Ri-nee-chan: I don't know how long I've spent promising you that this chapter was going to come out, that I was almost done with it, that I hoped to update soon. Finally, I went through with my promise. Your reviews keep coming later and later and so do my updates…it's a pain isn't it, always being late for everything? You know, last chapter wasn't all that short, the lack of scene changes and the trivial happenings just made it seem insufficient, in terms of length. This installment, making up for it, is, however, one of the longest I've written up to date. It's weird how you claimed that chapter 25 was an "iram chapter"… I have yet to figure out what defines the "iram" writing style, but I'm sure I'll get there someday and I trust you as an observant reader to have already picked up on its unique characteristics – and I'm only calling them that because you seem to think that way. If it is true that I often include head case monologues in each installment then the opening if this one should be up to par with tradition, right? I'm aware that last chapter had no drawn out or detailed elements in the phrasing of the regular moments of epiphany that I love to make the characters experience, but I've been recently going through a "Haiku" phase, in the sense that I'm beginning to think that, sometimes, the correct answer lies in the mincing of words. It's just a hypotheses, an experiment of sorts if you will, and I'm always really verbose about things so… don't expect to see that kind of cinematographic suggestion too often in my writing. Last chapter's "banging sequence" was definitely one of my favorites to write as well. Which scene from this chappie wins the 'favorite award'? The part I enjoyed writing the most was the whole food court / nanny / macking couple scene and Kaoru's appreciations on the subject. The fast-paced tempo of this chapter is supposed to act as a counterpoint to last chapter's understated simplicity and calmness; do you think it worked? Going somewhat off topic, I loved that K&K pic you sent me! I wrote you an e-mail to say thanks, but you haven't gotten back to me yet; I hope you received it. You said that you were eager to see how Soujiro coming back into the picture would go…any comments? Thanks so much for being so sweet to me, for your thoughtfulness and for always being there. Your e-mails always light up my day. Kissies and see you next chapter or via e-mail, kay? Bye.
Well people, so much for chapter 26! Thank you for your patience and kindness. Till chapter 27!