"Why isn't Tezuka-senpai here, by the way?" Sakuno asked, although the answer wasn't hard to guess.
"Tezuka? Oh...he's busy training for an upcoming national tennis tournament." Oishi replied with a smile. His bishop outfit really did perfectly bring out his angelic personality. Sakuno could almost see a bright halo around his head. She smiled back easily and nodded.
"Nothing less from Tezuka-senpai... as outstanding as usual." Laughing, she gave her basket a gentle shake, which was already half-filled with a random assortment of chocolates, lollipops, and marshmallows. "...But we sure have accomplished something today, haven't we, Oishi-senpai?"
Oishi smiled gently and agreed as he looked at his own confectionary collection. "Yeah, we really have...to be honest, I wasn't expecting people to be so generous."
"Was Oishi-senpai the one who organized this party?" Sakuno's eyes widened in surprise. She had assumed that this Halloween party would be the idea of a certain upperclassman who had set their eyes on the lollies and food that's part of the deal.
"Yeah, it was my idea. You see, I read a book written by Agatha Christie, and it was about a Halloween party which sounded very interesting...although, of course, I don't think I'll have the apple-bobbing game which started the murder in the novel..." Oishi chuckled nervously. Sakuno laughed.
"Oh, Oishi-senpai likes Agatha Christie too? I love her writing... especially 'The Mysterious Affairs at Styles' and 'Sad Cypress'." She said excitedly and shifted the gigantic broom from one hand to the other. As can be assumed from its size, the broom was quite heavy and she secretly cursed their neighbor for keeping such a huge impractical broom in their house. What do they use it for anyway? Sweeping a rice field?
The night had been surprisingly enjoyable so far. Nearly all of the households they visited had been kind enough to answer the door and, with the exception of some grumpy old men, had spared them some sweets from their pantry. And during their walk between separate neighborhoods, she has had the pleasure of chatting to various upperclassmen about a range of subjects...comics with Kikumaru, food with Momoshiro, sceneries (mainly for photography) with Fuji, and then novels with Oishi. Although she barely talked to Ryoma... since she knew she wouldn't have much to contribute to a conversation about famous tennis players or the brands of tennis racquets. During her talks with the other boys though, she would sometimes catch a flash of honey-coloured eyes or a Ryoma-like groan of boredom behind her.
"Ah, Ryuzaki...would your grandmother mind if we drop by at your house as well? We'd like to visit her and see if she's well." Oishi asked the girl beside him with a lively tone. His eyes shimmered with excitement, as if the idea had just occurred to him.
"N-No, not at all...I'm sure she'll be very happy to see everyone." She smiled. "Plus...I think she may have prepared some baked goodies in the kitchen before I left."
"Oooh! To the Ryuzaki Residence we go!!" Momoshiro and Kikumaru shouted in unison and each took hold of an arm of Ryoma's. The younger boy's face soon twisted into an almost... fearful expression.
"W-Wait, Kikumaru-senpai-" But he never finished his sentence as the two upperclassmen dragged him down the street in a high-speed sprint.
"Come on, Echizen! Don't you want to eat fresh chocolate chip biscuits and crusty cranberry pies?"
"And creamy cupcakes and sugary donuts?"
"Are you serious? Kikumaru-senpai!? There are cupcakes and donuts?"
"I dunno, how did you know there are biscuits and pies?"
Ryoma sighed, but knew nothing could stop those two when food is involved...
All he could do now was to concentrate on keeping his arms intact...or be prepared to sew them back on afterwards when everyone else is enjoying their stupid pies and donuts.
They were chocolate croissants.
He would never forget the blinding glow on Momoshiro and Kikumaru's faces when they first saw the pile of dripping delicacies on the massive plate meant for Christmas turkeys… obviously Ryuzaki-sensei had not only expected the whole team, but also expected Momoshiro and Kikumaru's 'pitless' stomachs.
The old lady had acted as 'unelderly' as ever when she greeted them at the door. Apart from a few more wrinkles by her eyes and on her neck, she was as lively as ever. And a painful squeeze of his cheek had soon wiped any further thoughts and sympathy for her old age away from Ryoma's mind.
He chewed a corner off the steaming croissant and rubbed his cheek which was still sore from the attack of his coach. As merciless as usual...oww...it even hurts when I'm chewing, damn that old woman... how did her granddaughter end up so different?
Eyes slowly shifting to the girl with hair as dark and soft as the chocolate coating on his croissant, he felt unusually warm, not physically, but mentally and spiritually. Warmed by her presence. His vision locked on her laughing face as she added an extra croissant to the mountain of food on Momoshiro's plate. That pig. Ryoma cracked his knuckles; anger has completely diluted the importance of their age difference to him.
Lightning ripped through the sky, lighting up the room in a sizzling flash, followed soon after by a roar of thunder and the pitter-patter of rain. Strangely, the first thing Ryoma felt wasn't the panic of him not being able to go back home in this storm, but the relief for her not having to go back out... for she was at home already.
However, all the seniors but two seemed to be in a state of stress.
"It's raining!? Oh no...I told dad I'd have the party in the restaurant in half an hour...he'll kill me if all those seafood I ordered goes to waste!"
"What should we do!? Oh, if we hadn't stayed this long...I'm so sorry, Taka-san, we'll try to get back somehow! I'm sorry, Ryuzaki-sensei, we interrupted your peaceful evening-"
"Hmm, maybe I shouldn't have left those cactus pots on my window."
"My data book is at Kawamura Sushi..."
"Shhh----"
Sakuno looked at her grandmother for directions, and was slightly surprised to find a smile on the old woman's face. "Grandma...?"
"Listen up, everyone!!!" A stern voice effectively silenced all the unnecessary noises in the room, save the sounds coming out from a corner of the interlinked kitchen, where Momoshiro and Kikumaru continued to dig into their pile of goodies, probably still unaware that it was even raining outside.
"Kawamura, were those seafood all prepared for tonight's party?"
"Um...yeah."
"Could you get your father to deliver them here? I'll make good use of them... since I don't think any of you should go back in this weather condition. If you plan to, then I'd rather you drown yourself first, that way I don't have to look for your body."
"G-Grandma..." Sakuno whispered awkwardly. But the elderly coach ignored her.
"Oishi, stop apologizing and help me rearrange the furniture... I think there may be a few more people sleeping in this house than normal tonight..."
"B-But Ryuzaki-sensei! We can't possibly sleep here! We've been enough trouble already-"
"Oh just shut up and listen!" Ryuzaki Sumire roared. Sakuno had to bite back a laugh at the sight of Oishi choking on another apology. "There is no way this storm would stop before morning, and I'm not so cold-blooded as to throw all of you outside to the stray dogs-" All of the people in the living room felt a cold shiver down their spine at the thought of dogs tearing their flesh apart in the rain, with blood flowing down the street and into the drains...perhaps it's best to do what the wise old woman says.
"Idon'tmindstaying." Momoshiro said between mouthfuls of flaky pastry, evidently having just grasped the general situation.
Oishi hesitated; eyebrows locked together in a deeper frown, but finally gave in to "the pressure". "Oh, I guess there's no other choice. Thank you-"
Sumire held up a hand to stop him in the middle of a 180 degrees bow. "I have no choice, do I?"
Although he wouldn't regard staying in the same house as the nasty old hag a marvelous idea, Ryoma had to admit the woman's cooking was impeccable.
He spooned another large spoonful of creamy pumpkin soup into his mouth and felt the thick liquid tingling every taste bud on his tongue. As much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't wait to find out what the old woman would do with those boxes of mouth-watering fish and squid delivered to the Ryuzaki Residence in the Kawamura Sushi van, whose driver was now also sitting comfortably on the couch in the living room, chatting enjoyably with his son and Inui Sadaharu about something to do with the percentage of fat in salmon. Although his sushi-chef uniform really did match horribly with the flute of red wine in his hand.
From his position on the living room floor, Ryoma could see Kikumaru bouncing up and down on the spare futons which will serve as their beds tonight (while happily yelling "This is like camping!"), Momoshiro sorting through his colourful bag of 'prizes' on the floor (occasionally sneaking pieces of cracked chocolate into his mouth), Fuji and Oishi kindly giving a helping hand in the kitchen (but constantly getting in the coach's way), and Kaidoh doing random stretches on the floor not far from where Momoshiro had spread out his candies (therefore arguments about the lack of space would arise every few minutes).
Oh, and there were the four other third-years...leaning against the wall and laughing their stupid heads off over some juicy gossip, provided by that Osakada girl, as usual. Seems like they are the only...sort-of normal ones around here... He squinted his eyes. ...Four?
She was gone.
Ryoma scanned the room again, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Ryuzaki.
And then, as if by chance, he gazed out of the sliding glass doors leading to the backyard, through a crack in the lavender curtains. Just like how he had gazed through the crack in the sliding doors at Kawamura Sushi... And just like how he had spotted her shadow on the cement, he spotted a glimmer of pink in the darkness.
Enveloped in the dark dress, dark leggings, dark overcoat, dark umbrella, she felt as if she could literally melt into the night. If it wasn't for the sparkling flower hairclip, she had no doubt she could master invisibility. Rain pounded on the plastic of her umbrella, sounding like a shower of needles that threatened to pierce the material and into her skin. Eyes glazed over by a shadow of pain, she looked at the white statue in front of which she was squatting.
It was a statue of a cat, with its dainty sculptured paws held in mid-air, in a playful posture as if it had been petrified while clawing for a butterfly. She reached out a hand and touched its stony ears. Icy cold, like her frozen fingers.
Has it already been five years...? Why does it still feel like yesterday? ...Why is it still so vivid in my mind?
"Come back inside, idiot."
Sakuno was so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn't heard the quiet footsteps behind her, and was seized by surprised when a frustrated voice suddenly sounded... so close by. She looked up and around to see a boy gazing down at her with piercing golden eyes, with a rare flicker of anger glowing within the dark pupils. He hasn't been out here for long, this she could tell from his reasonably dry vampire costume. Yet without any kind of protection, his hair had already begun to drip and his face was glistening with moisture. She sighed and stood up. Holding out her umbrella so it covered the two of them, she replied with a small smile.
"You're more of an idiot to come out without an umbrella."
He didn't respond but simply stared back. Their eyes locked, and Sakuno felt as if she was literally rooted to the spot. Silence spread, broken only by the rain as it struck the ground with the sharp sound of metal against rock. The yard was nearly pitch-black, save the soft rays illuminating the vegetation from tiny garden lanterns scattered around the snaking rocky paths. The eerie atmosphere was suffocating her... and Ryoma's cold eyes weren't helping with her growing sense of discomfort. She swallowed with difficulty when they finally detached from her face and slowly shifted to the object behind her, to the statue whose age was revealed through the numerous cracks in its body and the moss that was crawling up its legs.
"...Why are you out here?" He broke the silence with a cool curiosity, and the corners of her mouth lifted into a sad smile.
"...Mourning." Turning her head towards the sculpture, her voice trembled slightly. "...for an extremely important cat."
"...Oh,...sorry." Ryoma said in a low voice, to which Sakuno was slightly surprised about. Gently, she shook her head and continued.
"It's okay... I kind of needed someone to talk to anyway...Will you listen?" She requested softly, although it bore a slight urgent sense of pleading.
Ryoma hesitated, but lowered his head in assent. "...as long as you don't cry."
"...Sorry, can't quite promise you that." She smiled faintly as he sighed and shrugged, then allowed her eyes to fall on the white sculpture. On the soil before it lay a small bundle of white chrysanthemum which she had placed that morning, its plastic wrapping was dotted with drips of sparkling rain, like tiny shards of diamond. Torrents of rain gushed over the stone and streamed down the cat's smooth cheeks; they looked... frighteningly like tears. Her voice was calm as she began the tale.
"No one really knew where he came from, or how he ended up here...apparently he just appeared in our garden one day. We stuck up posters, advertised in the paper, asked around the neighborhood... yet his owner never showed up. So, at last, we decided to keep him...he was such an adorable little creature that we couldn't possibly have left him on the streets and let him rummage through rotten rubbish all his life." Her eyes glowed with the warmth of reminiscence. She didn't keep the cat just because it was "adorable"; personally Ryoma believed that she would have even kept a vicious hairy beast had it appeared dying and homeless.
"...He was truly better than a pet. He was family; even saying he was a part of me wouldn't be exaggerating. He would always be there. Most of the time I felt the one really being looked after wasn't him, but me. Although I have to admit the baby mice and birds he brought back weren't quite as appreciated as he would have liked." She chuckled lightly, her thin brows curving into two beautiful arches above her twinkling eyes. Yet the light went as quick as it came.
"-But then...this day five years ago... I went to school, and never saw him alive again." Black velvet wrinkled in her fist as it tightened on the dress material. Ryoma saw the knuckles turn as white as bone. "All I saw afterwards was a pile of cold flesh and fur by the road outside our house."
A single tear, as pure and clear as a pearl, left a shimmering trail as it slid down her cheek and dangled off her chin. She bit her lip to repress the overpowering wave of grief as it flowed out from the old wound which she thought had healed long ago. Voice trembling, she ripped her eyes from the sculpture and lowered them to the grass as the story continued.
"I guess he had wanted to cross the road... and had been killed by the traffic. He had been killed because... because I had left the gate open that morning, because I had been late for school and hadn't bothered to check the lock..." Tears poured out from under her closed eyelids, but she desperately tried to hide it by wiping her face with her sleeve, causing the phrase which slit through the heavy silence between them to be muffled in the thick material of her coat.
"He had died because of me."
Although attempting to calm her emotions with several deep breaths, she failed as the tears flowed out uncontrollably with the sobbing, like a vigorous mountain spring. Ryoma watched silently, offering no tender words, no comforting gestures, not even a smile of sympathy. His expression remained cool as he patiently allowed the girl to pour her heart out in front of him. Having at least a reasonable amount of knowledge about the harshness of his own personality, he'd rather not take the risk of speaking when Sakuno was at her weakest. But is what he is doing really right? Is this what he really should...or wants to do? His hands balled into fists. Am I... afraid of the answer?
"Idiot." The word escaped from his mouth before he realized had said it out loud. He watched in alarm and regret as he saw her head shoot up from her hand and her watery eyes widen in surprise.
"He didn't die because of you," Having already begun, he might as well finish. "...even if you did leave the gate open, a cat has the ability to jump over the fence when it really wants to leave. Having had a cat for so long, you should know how much freedom means to them."
She was silent for a while. The night has darkened, yet the rain has ceased, just a little, and were now only gentle sprays of liquid spreading the perfumed scent from the fragrant blossoms into every corner of the garden. Mud slithered around the heels of their shoes, yet neither took any notice of it. Finally, her voice sounded again, but in a painful, almost inaudible whisper.
"What if he was trying to follow me?"
"...he wasn't trying to follow you." His voice was calm, steady, like an undisturbed lake hidden in the depth of an enchanted forest. She looked up at him in wonder, in surprise.
"...How can you be so sure?"
"...Because I was there." The reply was in an emotionless voice, without a trace of uncertainty or hesitation. Sakuno's eyes widened to the extent that her optical muscles were straining to meet the requirements. The hand which held the umbrella shook violently, dripping icy liquid down her back.
"W-What...!? That's impossible..." She choked out in shock and continued to stare at the boy's face, searching frantically for any sign of humour or falseness. Yet, unfortunately, she found none.
"I came back to Japan with my old man a number of years ago...even though I can barely remember anything. But... a weird cat I saw one morning is an exception." He paused and ruffled his hair, smirking lightly at the frozen expression on Sakuno's face.
"The cat rushed out suddenly from a house while I was still a distance away, but I could see what roused his interest easily enough - there was a wounded bird on the other side of the road." He heard a sharp inhalation in front of him, which he ignored and continued. "...but why he gave up after looking at it for so long confused me. I saw him turning around toward the gate he came out from, but just as he was about to walk off, it turned around again for no reason and seemed to have seen something alarming across the road...so I looked in the direction he was staring at, and saw the bird being trampled on by some blonde guy. And - before I could sprint across the road myself and beat that group of boys into a pulp - the cat intercepted me."
"Y-You're lying... tell me these are all made-up..." Ryoma couldn't see the girl's expression, but perhaps it was better that way...he knew he would not be able to continue if he saw the devastated expression hidden under her long drooping fringe. To continue would, however, be his only way to ease her sorrow and end his guilt which had been unmistakably linked over these years.
"...I couldn't save him, for that I regret and would understand if you want to blame me in any way. But it'll be unreasonable for you to blame yourself for his death...there should only be one guilty party." He reached inside his pocket and drew out an object, which he held out on his palm in front of him. "... and Pumpkin would agree, I presume."
The umbrella fell onto the ground with a soft clatter.
Sakuno gazed at the silver object shimmering on his outstretched hand, and felt more tears well up inside the hollows of her eyes, blurring her vision as she reached out to take it with trembling fingers. The letters spelling "Pumpkin" were still clearly etched on the metal plate, this she noted with a weak smile, yet she bit her lip to hold back the tears which were threatening to fall any instant. She didn't want to appear weak and helpless in front of others... and especially not Echizen Ryoma, who, as she had just discovered, had hidden the truth from her all these years, who would not only not say comforting things to help heal her scar, but would stab new wounds in her heart with his infamous coldness and cruelness.
...Who knows? Maybe the reason why he has been reasonably civilized so far is because he was waiting to give her one final and fatal blow, to shatter her fragile mind once and for all. But no... she would not be fooled by him. She wasn't clever but wasn't stupid either. No risks would be taken. Crying... no, even a whimper should be forbidden under those merciless amber eyes.
"You stole this...why?" Her voice quivered with anger, confusion, and suspicion as she gripped the name tag tightly in her palm. The metal was cool, comforting, yet it didn't calm her rage. It almost felt like she had been betrayed...by someone who she has come to trust, to admire, to love.
He sighed. Although he had predicted her to be angry - which was partly why he hesitated to reveal the truth to her - he didn't expect her to change mood so quickly. The fact that she was trying to repress her emotions was obvious, yet she wasn't very good at that... the sunken frown, the blazing eyes, and the trembling lips told it all.
Reaching out, he pulled her towards him and held her close, shielding her from the spitting rain with his sweeping black cloak as he wrapped it around her head and shoulders. Before she even realized what was happening, she was pressed against his warm chest with thick folds of material blocking out the dampness outside, as well as the freezing air she was in only a split second ago. Flushing furiously, she struggled, well, attempted several times to push herself away from the intimate position, but finally accepted her defeat when she felt the rough materials wrap tighter around her body, indicating the tightening of his arms.
He has been fighting against the urge to do so for the entire evening, to grab her and lock his arms around her small body, to breathe in the floral scent of her hair, and to feel the silky smooth skin against his shirt. It was a relief to finally have the chance to give in... And there is no way he was going to let go so soon.
"...I had hoped that if you didn't know the name of the cat, you wouldn't be so sure." He said gently, with a soft sense of understanding. "I had hoped that whoever his owner was...she wouldn't be heart-broken over a cat whose identity hasn't been verified, but would keep hoping for a day that her 'real' cat will return."
"That's so dumb." She muttered into his shirt, her voice sounded muffled behind the layer of black vampire cloak.
"I know." Ryoma smirked lightly.
"And you're a foolish hypocrite... even though you told me not to blame it all on myself, yet you're taking full responsibility."
"I know." And for purposefully not inviting her to the party in fear of her seeing my ridiculous costume...yet pulling her into the restaurant in hope that she would be by my side quicker.
"...Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"You don't have to blame yourself for what happened to Pumpkin... although you shouldn't have taken the name tag."
"I'm not so nice as to blame myself for the death of your cat."
"What!? But you just admitted-"
"Really? Wow, sorry, didn't realize I have short-term memory. But I'm not sorry I took the name tag."
"...Why not?"
"Because that's the reason I had the chance to talk to you for so long. I mean, I couldn't exactly comment on comics, food, sceneries, or novels."
"...You were eavesdropping on my conversations?"
"It's not eavesdropping when both of you know I'm behind you."
She clutched onto his shirt. With her cheek lying just beneath his collarbone, she could distinctly feel the warmth of his muscles seeping through the thin cotton material. Rain was still falling soundless upon them, she could see the thin lines of water falling soundlessly from above yet she could not feel them. Her body was completely enclosed in a cozy vacuum of warmth. But the water which dripped from the back of Ryoma's neck did not escape her notice.
"You're getting wet."
"...So?"
"You'll get a cold... let me go get the umbrella."
"No."
"Let go of me." She protested, but his arms only tightened around her fragile body.
"You're not the one getting wet, so stop moaning."
"You're being unreasonable." She said quietly, but smiled faintly as she heard him smirk. Although the next move he did was totally unexpected and sent an electrifying jolt of shock down her spine.
He kissed her neck. A light brush of lips, but undoubtedly a kiss. As his face lifted, she blushed in disbelief. Disbelief at the overwhelming sense of happiness which tumbled over her grief. I am stupid after all...sighing to herself, she secretly grinned. Looks like Halloween was never a day meant for mourning... something thrilling, something dangerous, is what this day is meant for. She felt a light pressure on her scalp as Ryoma lay his cheek on the top of her head.
"You know, if I was a vampire you'd probably be dead now."
"...Why probably?"
"...Because vampires don't like pale skinny little girls."
She flinched in her arms but retorted in annoyed sarcasm. "Well sorry for being such a pale skinny little-"
"But," Ryoma raised his voice in order to be heard over hers. "-I have not the slightest interest in the tastes of blood, so-"
He closed his eyes and, faintly, an image of a cat's blazing golden eyes rose from a box of scattered memories. It had all been decided on that day... hadn't it, Pumpkin? The boy smiled as the rain gently patted his hair, urging the words to leave his lips.
"I don't mind whether you're pale or skinny... I want you by my side."
A/N: Hope you enjoyed my first attempt at a Halloween fic! I was going to make this a one-shot, but it seemed far too long to be one chapter, so I decided to split it in two... hopefully that didn't ruin it for you. Nevertheless, I've wanted to write a fic for a special occasion for ages, so I hope you liked my version of a RyoSaku Halloween.
Happy Halloween!