Chapter Two:
Bound to/for Tokyo"I want you to go down to Tokyo. Keep an eye on her as I cannot. Watch, study, learn her, Sono. Find out why she cannot be allowed to Dance. Do whatever it takes to stop her from Dancing."
He bowed his head, his ponytail pulled so tight that he thought he could feel his eyelids moving higher than they already were, "Yes, Father. Whatever it takes to stop her, just short of killing her."
"Did I say not to kill her, Sono?" His father asked with a quirked eyebrow, "By all means, Son, if you get the chance, do it. No one's managed to do it yet — rumor says she's protected or some such nonsense — but kill her if you can.
If her death, however, were ever to endanger your own life, then don't bother. If you both have knives at your throats and your killing her would result in her killing you, then forget it. I'll not have my only son — only child and heir — foolishly put himself in danger."
"Yes, Father, I understand. Stop her any way I can. Should I get the chance to kill, I will do so, but not at the cost of my own life. Does that sum it up?"
His father turned away with a curt nod, signaling both his agreement and the dismissal of his son. Taking the silent queue, Sono left and went to his room to ready himself for the long journey ahead of him.
He lay on his bed of silken sheets and plumped pillows, the light top sheet tangling his legs and exposing certain parts of him to the cool morning air that he'd rather not have had showing… his ears. So, practically diving under the pillow, he just barely avoided hearing the crisp knock at the door… plus the three following poundings. Poor door.
"I know you're in there you lazy ass! Get up and open this door right now!"
Groaning as his paradise shattered and his head pounded, he moved the pillow off of his head and rolled himself out of bed, dragging the sheet with him. Holding it about his waist while going to the door and unlocking it, he let it creak open as he was faced with his most faithful servant.
"You called, Rosham?" He asked as the poor manservant cleared his throat and fought a blush at his Lord's state of undress.
"Your parents have requested your presence." Rosham explained with nary a stutter as he turned to leave.
He st5ifled a chuckle, "Aren't you going to tell me where I am to find them? The garden? Their inner or outer chambers? The bathroom?"
"The garden, Milord," Rosham nodded before he half turned, "will you be needing anything else?"
"Well, you could actually do your job and help me dress."
Unable to stop the shifting of his eyes, Rosham reluctantly nodded before stepping into his Lord's room as said Lord shut the door behind him. Lord and servant they may be, but that was on the outside. Alone, they were the best of friends, just as they'd been as children.
"Any idea why your parents would summon you at a time when they know you're sleeping off a hangover? It's still morning, for Kami's sake!"
He groaned, "My head would like to remind you that — as it is still morning — to keep your voice down. My fist would like to add that aforementioned hangover is still controlling him and that you will receive a fist to the face for every word you speak above normal hangover volume."
"Sorry," Rosham whispered as he stepped over to the closet, "what would you like to wear today? I'm guessing it to be pretty import-… hey!"
One swift move was all it had taken for his Lord to pin him up against the cool closet doors, "You know, I expected a whole different 'Good morning,' from you."
My L-… er, Kenkichi, there's no time. Besides, speaking of time, that was the first — and last — time I ever woke you like that. I was foolish and… and… young! Young is synonymous with foolish! You should know that!"
Kenkichi smiled lazily, sheet forgotten at his feet, "Actually I was thinking about that time in your uncle's stable. Much more enjoyable and… fulfilling, you could say."
A deep blush spread across Roham's cheeks as he fumbled for words and was saved by another knock, "My Lord, your presence has been immediately requested in the garden."
"Coming, Mokran," he said as he heard the footsteps leave from in front of his door, "or rather, I'm not. I'm being deprived… at least, for now. Isn't that right, Ro-kun?"
"You're impossible." Rosham muttered as he was release and allowed to open the closet while his naked lord stood with his arms crossed over his chest.
Finding a pair of light khaki pants, Rosham knelt down and was embarrassed by the fact that his friend and lord wore no underwear whatsoever. Suddenly realizing his grave error, he hoped nothing would be said about it.
Wishful thinking, he knew…
"Oh Ro-kun," Kenkichi smiled while his friend stared at the floor, "while you're down there…"
"No."
Pouting as he stepped into his pants, he cursed, "It was worth a try though, eh? How about later?"
"Maybe. Depends what your parents need you for and how long."
"I could order you." Kenkichi said as he dismissed the offered belt. He liked pants that hung low on his hips.
"Could," Rosham nodded as he stood, "but you won't. You always regret it afterward."
"Good point. I'll see you later. Hopefully I won't be too long."
Bloody hell… he'd been here for hours!
"We want you to understand that this is best for all of us. Now please, Son, sign your name onto the first line of the poor girl's registry."
He looked up at his parents, doubtful of the intentions behind all of this, "You're sure she knows about this? She'll see this as soon as I sign it?"
"Absolutely. This is her future as well as yours, Kenkichi. Her Family is respectable and trustworthy."
"As well as wealthy and the eldest Family on this side of the Wall." He thought bitterly as he looked down at the piece of parchment in front of him, sighing as he picked up the fountain pen provided.
A registry was a sheet of parchment given to young girls with ten lines. Each line was a place for a man to sign his name… in essence, a marriage agreement. If, by a certain age set by the parents, the girl had not married a man of her own choosing, then those who had signed the registry would be placed into a tournament whereupon the winner would go against he who had signed first.
Being first on a registry was always an honor, for it meant you were automatically in the 'semi-finals' of the tournament. Once a man was signed as first to a registry, his name must then be removed from any other registry he had signed. No man was allowed to be the first on more than one registry. The only other way to be removed from a registry was rejection or death.
Of the five he'd already signed, this was the only one on which he'd been first, hence all the formality… well, everyone else was formal while he wore his khakis and no shirt. Some girls' registries were full by the age of twelve, or some before they were even born, which always led to difficulties. Arranged marriages always had that effect here. If not full by twelve, then they were at least half filled. No more than ten men could sign, which had caused several problems and the law was in debate even now. Until the matter was solved, however, ten was the limit.
Still, of all the registries he'd ever heard of or signed, this was the first to be blank. Not even a name in pencil that had been erased. It looked brand new, still crisp and fresh. The girl must be nothing short of absolutely horrid.
He felt his soul quiver as he signed his name on the first line.
He sighed for the millionth time as he drove through the crowded streets. He hated market day… at least, hated driving on market day. What he hated most of all, however, were the things he'd said about a girl he'd never met. To this day his name was still the only one on that registry. No one even bothered asking after it, for everyone tried avoiding her at all costs, and he couldn't understand why. He didn't care what anyone said:
She was beautiful.
No doubt about it, and if anyone said otherwise, he'd kill the son of a bitch. End of story.
"Weren't you supposed to turn there?"
"Goddammit!" He exclaimed as he forewent his turning signal and turned the steering wheel sharply to the right as his passenger nearly slammed into the window, "You live to piss me off, don't you?"
"Of course, because everything just revolves around you."
"See? You're doing it again," he grumbled, driving slowly and trying to find the friend he was supposed to be picking up, "where did she say she'd wait?"
"By the fruit stand."
"And where is the enigmatic fruit stand?"
"By the vegetable cart."
He growled, "Which is where, Raven?"
"Three blocks in the other direction," Raven said coolly as he pointed towards the rear window, "honestly, Tora, do you ever listen to a word Aya-sama says?"
Not about to dignify Raven's rhetorical question with a retort, Tora decided to dump him out of the car and get someone who would actually read the map to him rather than wait to the last minute to notify him of a missed turn. Already they were fifteen minutes late and would get nothing short of hell if they ever reached their destination.
Twenty minutes later…
Soaked and sitting on a towel, Tora was nothing short of bristling by the time they pulled up to the fruit stand, seeing their friend waiting while munching on some piece of fruit and holding an umbrella in her right hand. That was the other thing he needed to stock in his trunk: an umbrella.
Finishing her fruit and walking to the car, she opened the back door, closed and shook out her umbrella, and shut the door with a 'click', allowing the silence to eat away at the men's souls before speaking calmly, if only in clipped sentences.
"Where have you been for the past thirty-five minutes?"
It was amazing how she could make a question seem like an accusation. Like those the angry cops used on those TV shows when interrogating the suspect in the good cop/bad cop scenarios.
"Took a couple of wrong turns."
"Did you not have directions?"
"I would have," Tora said as he pulled away and began the long drive up to Tokyo, "if Raven had given them to me."
She turned her cold gray gaze to the passenger seat in front of her, "And why didn't you give him the directions? Do you not realize how important this is?"
"Don't even try pulling that 'new guy' crap, either. You've been with us for the past couple of months, so that's no excuse."
"It's not like everyone's a fountain of information, either," Raven grumbled, pushing his bangs out of his eyes, "I have to wring water from a dry sponge just to find anything out from either of you."
"Tora, you take this one. I didn't sleep well last night and you're much better at embellishing a story than I am. Wake me when we get within two miles of Tokyo."
Sighing as he watched Aya unfasten her seatbelt and lie down in the back of the car, Tora turned a glare to Raven before putting his eyes back on the road and telling the story with as many clipped off portions as possible, "Back in a time where there was no annoying Raven, Aya-sama had come to Tokyo on… business, of sorts. Anyway, while she was here, she met a girl who really changed something in her. They became best friends, inseparable.
Aya-sama delayed going back where she'd come from as long as she could. Finally, she couldn't delay it anymore. Her father sent me to come get her, and — lemme tell 'ya — Aya-sama didn't wanna go. When she doesn't want to go somewhere, she lets you know it upfront. So anyway, when the girl found out why Aya had to leave, she wasn't very happy. The two of them started fighting, both of them on the same side of the argument: not wanting Aya to go, but Aya-sama knew she had to go so…"
Raven blinked, hating when Tora left stories on a cliffhanger, "So? What happened? They argued and then what?"
"Aya-sama ended up leaving anyway, only not the way either she or I had planned. She left in an ambulance, more dead than alive. Both the hospital staff and I swear she died—or was at least clinically dead—but came back all of a sudden, her vitals resuming their normal levels and nothing out of the ordinary. Then she escaped from the hospital and has been on the run from her father ever since."
"Now what does any of this have to do with us going to Tokyo for our show in two weeks?" Raven asked, thinking he knew the connection yet wanting to make sure. Things about Aya-sama's past were always mysteries… hell, Aya herself was a mystery.
Her name was known across the world, mostly for her success as a unifier of multiple genres of music. She'd been known to mix elements of classical and rock music, appealing to a widely-varied audience that included teenagers all the way up to grandparents as well as everyone in between.
They'd been touring for a little while now, with Raven just having joined their group a few months ago, bringing with him talents as a pianist and intermediate dancer. Tora himself was merely there for extra things, things like sound as well as making sure the equipment worked. He went on stage just as Aya or Raven did, but contributed only background effects and accompanying the choreography to the music Aya herself had written.
Looking back at their lead vocalist, violinist, flutist, and semi-pianist, Raven had to wonder just what sort of life she'd led before turning to music for help… and who was this friend who had nearly killed such a headstrong woman?
"It has everything to do with it," Tora said as-a-matter-of-factly, "Aya's once-friend's mom got in touch with Aya not too long ago, and they started talkin' about stuff, and about the upcoming show. Apparently, we've been invited to stay there until we're finished in Tokyo… unfortunately, I don't think the friend knows 1) she's gonna have the one and only Aya in her house and 2) said singer was once her best friend that she nearly killed."
"At least she won't be alone this time. She'll have us."
"And a lot of help we do. You know Aya-sama loves our help as much as she loves snakes."
It was well-known that Aya hated and killed every snake she saw.
"So we're staying with the once-friend and her mom… but where is that? Still in Tokyo, right?"
"Oh sure it is, and it's one of Aya-sama's favorite places in the world. Of course, she hasn't set foot in Tokyo since the incident ten years ago. I'm sure you've never heard of it, being an outsider and all that…"
"I know enough about Japan and it's customs, thank you." Raven half growled as Aya mumbled in her sleep.
Tora rolled his eyes and turned off the nearest exit, "It's the Higurashi Shrine, home of Aya-sama's favorite tree and people: the Higurashi family, and the Goshinboku tree."
((March 26, 2007)) A/N: I hope you don't mind the long chapter about… nothing… had to tie it in somehow or else I was sure someone would accuse me of not writing a fanfic. Chap 3 deals more on Inu's problems with things, I promise. ;;;;
Kookookitty – I'm glad you like this one, & yes, this is a rewrite. It's actually like this: I wrote "Friendly Persuasion", finished it, & suddenly had an idea to redo it, making Kouga sort of evil with the excuse of being cursed by Naraku or something of the sort. Well, I tried that & grew tired of it after 11 chapters & have now started this little project, which I'm liking very much, actually. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.