Chapter Five: Needles and Pins

All disclaimers applied. Welcome and please, enjoy. ;)

When Ishida asked me if I were afraid of motorcycles, I told him my ambition is to own a Harley one day.

"Huh," he turned away, hiding his mass of blond hair under his helmet. But I saw that smile and I will store it for future blackmail.

The wind waltzed on my skin, its cold feet tapping softly on my skin as we rushed through the streets of Tokyo. My hair galloped along with the wind as I revelled in my rapture. I kept my hands firmly planted on the worn out seat lest Ishida might think of something witty to say if I held his waist. I saw that he truly appreciated my little effort too. The coldness of the night released the haze in my mind and my heart screamed along with me.

"Shh," Ishida hissed, annoyed. "Don't get me arrested along with you."

I screamed in his ears, merry to annoy him. We swerved to a stop besides a building and I nearly toppled over an old lady with a lunch basket.

"I'm sorry, pet," I helped her up, clearing away the dust on her shoulders. "Pretty dress, where did you get this?"

"You mean when," she snapped at me, gripping my hands a little too tightly. "This was new in the 90s. You weren't even born."

"If it was made in 1992, we're the same age," I smiled.

"Fact is, old girl, you're way older than both of us combined," Ishida said gruffly, making sure his motorcycle was safe from thieves and glaring around for suspicious people.

"Mind your manners, boy," she barked at him. I had the terrific satisfaction of seeing him annoyed but unable to do anything about it. "I was a little girl during World War I and I was a grown woman in World War II. You haven't been through a single war and you act like a pompous, spoiled child acting as an adult does."

"Yeah, I truly agree with you," I said, ignoring the blonde's glare.

"And you, young lady-"

"Hey, pretty basket, what's inside?" I easily changed the topic before she could focus on my deficiencies. It might ruin the splendour of seeing Ishida being disgraced.

"My friends," her voice softened to a whisper. I peered into it, wondering if her friends were Thumbelinas but I was greeted with soft meows.

There must be tens of cats in there.

"Ace," Ishida grabbed my arm. "We've better things than chat with you, old girl, so try to enjoy life."

"Boy!" He pulled me into the building and slammed the door shut in the old woman's face.

"Terrific neighbour," I said truly as we waited for the elevator. "I'd love to have one of those."

"Shut up."

"She was trying to be helpful."

"I said shut up."

I glanced at him. "I can't stand you."

He glanced at me. "Why the hell are you here?"

"Fantastic question. I'd like to know too."

"Hell."

We arrived at his house in the companion of silence. Music was wafting out of the house. He kicked open the door. I hesitated. Why was I here? I didn't need to go in. But I wanted to. However mad it might sound, he was my solitary refuge from my own life.

Let it be, I told myself, arranging my shoes. Who cares?

Posters bombarded me when I stepped into the house. Sex Pistol, Queen, MGMT, Led Zeppelin, the Rolling Stone. I guess he didn't listen to Ayumi or Utada. Voices scratched its way out of the stereo, screaming words I couldn't sing along with but I enjoyed it nonetheless. There were only a black table, a lot of black cushions, a television, the said stereo, lots of black clothes all over the kitchen and black boxes of worn out magazines. I guess I know what Ishida's favourite colour was.

Another blonde sat in the centre of the room, his blue eyes focused on the television. Yamato had disappeared into a room, but the other blonde turned around.

"Yo."

"Hey."

"Were you in a magazine somewhere?"

"Odaiba High's yearbook."

"No, something like Seventeen or Vogue. Because you look like this one babe," he whistled, shaking his head. "She's otherworldly. So pretty, I mean. You kind of look like her. Perhaps more."

I smiled. "Do you use it with every girl?"

"I try," he broke into a grin. His blue eyes were beautiful, like an intense shade of the sea when the sun was reigning fiercely and the sand were golden. His smile was one the rare ones, a smile that tells you, calmly, everything that you want to be told, believed in you as you want to be believed and looked at you like you were the only thing in the world it would ever want to see. It was a charming smile. "I go by Takeru, but that love of my life over there likes to call me idiot. I don't mind, because I beat him in every game and that means he must be very stupid, yo?"

He pointed to the room Ishida disappeared into.

"He's a very charming man," I said, grinning. "He charmed the neighbour into almost giving me a cat."

"Oh man, he does that a lot. He likes cats and old ladies, yo. Deep in his heart, he has this strange fetish for old ladies; he finds grey hair so irresistible."

"I'm so jealous."

"Yeah, me too. They have a very passionate relationship, those two-"

"Stop spreading lies about me, idiot," Ishida appeared and groaned, hitting Takeru on the head with a rolled up magazine. "She's looking at me all strange this week, you must have said something queer to her, mate."

"I told her nice things,"

"Argh. You told her I'd had dreams about her."

"Nice ones."

"She's stopped hanging her underwear in the veranda, mate," Ishida knocked his head again.

"Oh, you noticed?" We said in unison. His glare shifted from Takeru to me and back again.

"Hell." He disappeared into the room again.

"Now," Takeru turned to me with that smile. "You may do whatever you want with me."

"Thanks," I sat down beside him, still feeling strange about being in the house of someone who tried to drown me.

"You're not one of his plastic bags, charmer," his blue eyes peered at me, curiosity subtly hidden behind those eyes. "What are you?"

"By plastic bags you mean?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"He has a lot."

"Whoa."

"Some ganguros. One offered me you-know-what."

"Take it up, guy."

"Sadly, the love of my life chucked her out first," Takeru shook his head.

"Poor guy," I squeezed his shoulder, smiling, I didn't know if it was for real, but nevertheless. He's a cute kid. "How old are you?"

He looked up slyly.

I laughed. "Not that."

"Why not, babe? We'll look good."

"I will kick you," Ishida emerged, pointing his rolled up magazine at Takeru. He redirected the magazine to me, his eyes flashing. "Stay away from this idiot."

"Relax, man, relax," Takeru leaned back to the floor, his face showing utter laziness.

"Idiot-"

"Alright, yo," Takeru stood up, smiling at me. "Don't give me the riot act again. I'll phone for more pizzas. What'd you like?"

"A lot of cheese," I murmured, picking up a magazine. Suddenly, I wanted to fatten up myself. Hmm. KISS. I held the magazine upside down, frowning. One of these guys' tongues was very long.

"You paying?" Ishida barked. I gave him my best puppy eyes.

He stared. "I don't like animals."

"Damn. You look rich, guy. Why not one more pizza?"

He opened his mouth to retort, but thought better of it. He disappeared into the room again. I glanced at it. What was inside? I glanced back at the magazine, the words blurring with a sudden force. I grabbed a cushion and threw the magazine to the furthest corner of the room, since it's where Ishida kept things.

I was woken up by a pillow Ishida graciously threw at me, followed by a nudge, to my face, with his foot.

The face hovering above me was not Ishida, though. I knew it wasn't Takeru since he was snoring right beside me, his cold cheeks pressed to mine. He's truly adorable.

"Hello, beautiful," he murmured, leaving a light kiss on my forehead. "What have you been dreaming about?"

I stared at him. He was the man with the pearly whites.

"Do not look at me like that," he mumbled. "You are making my cheeks red."

"Argh, mate, stop kissing up her butt," Yamato said, disgusted. He was flipping through the channels, yawning every minute and then. "You've got enough chicks worshipping you, Jyou. You don't need her."

"You flatter me, Goldie Hawn," I sat up, smoothing back my hair. "I don't want to be as pretty as you."

He glared and I smiled.

"You are Sora?" he smiled. "I saw you this morning. Do you still remember me?"

Your teeth were unforgettable. "I never miss a handsome guy."

Ishida snorted. I'll ignore that. But Jyou was handsome, in a quiet, sincere way. He looked sensible and there was no pretence behind that smile. I wouldn't mind talking to him for days.

"I am your teacher now," he said, smoothing back his cobalt blue hair. "Do you remember-?"

"Jyou," Jyou caught the beer bottle just in time. "I'm thirsty. The little fool finished off my booze. Go get more."

Jyou smiled patiently, standing up. I was still staring at him, willing him to tell me. Remember what? He looked very familiar. Something about concerts was tugging at the back of my mind. Something about this one guy and his car. God, what was it? Where did I meet this guy?

My new teacher, Jyou. He's going to rock the school.

The door closed quietly. Yamato pressed a cold bottle to my arm. "Outside," he ordered.

The icy wind raged. I leaned over the railings, looking down. Terrific view. If I threw a bottle down, what will happen? I was going to test that thought when Yamato gave me his pretty middle finger.

"Your old granny called," he downed his beer, his cheeks flushed from the cold. "Told her you were too drunk to move, you tattooed your whole body and you just made ten guys' day."

"Hey, I had the same dream," I wrinkled my eyes. I knew my mother wasn't going to believe that.

He snorted. "She asked and I quote, 'take care of her, son.'"

I glanced at him. His face was almost hidden in the dark, but his blue eyes were unmistakeable. What was I doing here with him? "You can annoy her all you want but she'll still love you."

"Doubt it," Ishida cackled. "I'm old women's worst nightmare."

"Why am I here?" I murmured into the night, looking up at the brightly lit streets below. Tokyo never slept. "What am I doing with my near-killer?"

"I told you, you looked too pathetic. What was that blue with Tachikawa about?"

"I'm sane. She's not. It's normal," my nerves tightened again. I didn't want to hear that bitch's name.

"You want to get even?" his hand circled the bottle's neck slowly.

"Terribly." No one calls my mother a slut and gets away with it. That bitch had the nerve. "Truth is, she gets on my nerves. There are days when I don't understand what's going on in that mind of hers. She bullies girls into transferring. She hits on guys who are already owned. She has no moral compass." I glanced at him. "You were with her."

He nodded, gulping more beer. He was on his second one. "You were too weak with that slap. I'd have shaved her bald."

I looked back into the night. I waved at Tokyo Tower. "I had second thoughts."

"We fought. Too much, mate. That nutty granny with the cats threatened to sue. We threw bottles once."

Despite my better thoughts, I blurted out, "You were the one who did those scars on her back? She said she fell down the stairs. I fought with her when she won't tell. We didn't talk for a week."

He looked at me like I was mad. "Chick, that girl won't use anything but lifts. I had to carry her up when the lift broke down one day," he grinned suddenly. He didn't look half as bad as I wanted. Ishida looked good, undeniably. "She paid me, still. Her scratches are pretty good."

"Hmm." We looked out. Lots of stars, lots of misery. Jyou still hadn't come back and I was still waiting for Ishida to tell me what's on his mind. I knew he wouldn't even be in five miles radius of me, let alone force me to get here and offer me his precious beer. Even if it was not so expensive.

He still wasn't looking at me. "I've a deal for you, mate."

"Yeah."

"Listen."

"Hmm."

"Queer and mad this may sound," we still weren't looking at each other. It was better; make it easier to keep straight faces. He tried to drown me, I badmouthed him every second. It's going to be a terrific partnership. Truly. "I want Tachikawa back."

I smiled. "You want to annoy that cool grandmother into hanging her underwear in front of your house?"

"Hell no. Takeru'll start hitting on her. Fork my eyes out."

"You want her?"

He took a long time to answer. I was tempted to peek, but I stared stoically ahead.

"Shut up about it," he finished off the bottle and threw it down. I glanced down, making sure no grandmother or Jyou was there. It crashed wonderfully. He took another bottle. For someone whose kid brother finished off the beer, he had lots of replacements. "She's hell, but it's a bore without her."

I clink his bottle with mine. "She's always been good in Drama class. I should've known when she read Hamlet. We were seven."

"Tsunami-raising, that chick."

"What's the deal?"

"Get even with her before I realise how pathetic you really are."

"Planning. Scheming. Still thinking."

"You need me."

"Yeah. If she still wants you."

"She does."

"You're very confident."

"I know her to the last bit, mate. Seen all her dramas."

"Explicit, guy. Too much."

"It won't work if you're a pathetic nice girl."

"Blondie, I can throw you down from here. It'll be very painful."

He held up his hands. "You're a bitch. No wonder you and she are tight. Were tight."

"Just come to work tomorrow," I yawned. I was considering the plan thoroughly. I knew that bitch was still hung over him. She called my mother a slut. I won't let her off easy. "What's in it for you?"

"Hell if I know," he sounded wistful. "I can't stand the idea of being your perfect boyfriend, mate, but we'll get what we want. Possibly. Maybe."

"I don't like you, either, but this is the gentlest plan I could think of," I glanced at him, smiling crookedly. "You don't know me. Everything works if I'm on board. Just tell me."

"What?" His eyes looked different, somehow. A flicker of something. Now I understood why his photos were in every girl's locker, except mine and that girl. That girl burned hers to ashes the last time they broke up.

"How old are you? Before anyone asks." Hikari and the rest of the girls at school. They discussed about him every lunch, to the tiniest detail. One commented on the size of his feet and her friend gushed about his toenails. His chest was the most famous topic. "All the gory details, yeah?"

"Seventeen."

"You're a terrible liar."

"I'm the same age as you, chick," he laughed. First time. "I'm not a cleaner by free will."

"Really? Then you're some guy," I murmured. He chortled.

"What's in it for you?" his eyes smouldered with curiosity.

I didn't even hesitate.

"She'll know not to mess with me."

A/N: How is it? Is it bad? Is it any good? Comment, if you please. ;) Oh, I'm repenting for my absences and withdrawals. Hope you enjoyed. ;)