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Bibliophile
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Chapter Two
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Somehow he knew... Ritsuka knew that FATE was stupid.
What a waste of time.
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There's not much to do or learn in school that couldn't be found elsewhere, he thought to himself on the way out of the brick front entrance— social interaction might come in handy sometimes depending on your occupation, yes, but Ritsuka wondered if perhaps— death might be more interesting.
More morbidly interesting than the constant repetition of pounding, dense rubber and heels on aging and black-streaked tile linoleum, the screeching metal legs and rungs of desk chairs, and the collective roar of his fellow classmates and teachers muddled by caffeine and hormones and stress.
What a waste of space.
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"You've got that look on your face again."
Out by the gates of the local evening cram school, an older looking male with a red and white college jersey blew some cigarette smoke in his direction. Ritsuka wrinkled his nose, waving the remnants from his air space. "What look?" The male asked placidly.
"That look you get when you've had a really crappy day," Ritsuka said wryly.
Kio— with his freshly clipped and dyed-to-a-light-green-color hair— silently smiled with his lips pressed firmly against the end of his Winston. He started twirling the white stick of an unwrapped lollipop against his fingers. Ritsuka eyed the repeated motion. "Then what happened to you today?" The younger pressed.
"Nothing…" Kio replied, noticing this after a moment, and slipped the lollipop in his front jean pocket.
"You only smoke when you are depressed."
As they walked together down the sidewalk, away from the streaming crowd of Ritsuka's rowdy and lively classmates, the green haired man sighed defeated, "The nice little virgin teacher I've been seeing decided to dump me for her lady psychiatrist. I didn't even know she was going to a psychiatrist!" Kio muttered, playing with one of the ten silver hoop earrings in his left ear, "Cheating bitch."
"...Okay."
Kio's eyebrows lowered almost behind his oval-shaped glasses, as he said, "You see… THAT as a comment from my best friend doesn't exactly cut it, you know? I understand that it's hard for you since you have a heart made of cold, hard glass…" The comment had not been spoken with ill intent. Kio simply loved to tease Ritsuka about how he could cared less about relationships.
The younger smirked, feeling the pleasurable strain on his face. "When it happens every week…it's hard to feel sympathy for you…"
"I do have good news though! I think I met someone fun in my art class this morning!" Kio chirped, throwing away his half demolished cigarette into a garbage bin they passed with a grand flourish and unwrapping the foil to his lollipop. "New guy. Great with Japanese art. His painting skills are insanely... amazing, ah... I can't even describe it right, Ritsuka; you would have to see him at work! I haven't seen talent like this in a while…and he's got this weird obsession with butterflies… —"
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He stretched up to push the purplish-blue book back into the empty space on the book shelf. The blond man smiled down on him gently, handsomely, and looked down to his own wrists.
He began buttoning the butterfly-shaped cuff links of his shirt sleeves.
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"…whoa, Ritsuka, are you feeling alright?" Kio caught him in a half-swoon.
The dull, prickling feeling behind Ritsuka's eyes sank away slowly. His vision lightened, sharpened from the darkness that had gripped the edges. The green-haired man gripped harder onto the Ritsuka's arm, bringing his other hand up under his armpit in case his body fell backwards. "You're shaking. Are you going to be sick?" Kio said.
"No…" Blotches of pink embarrassment went up his cheeks.
Ritsuka hated having to worry Kio like that whenever he started daydreaming so violently. Daydreaming shouldn't feel like that. Like it threatened to split his head open.
Kio did not let him go and his blue eyes changed suddenly into a look of suspicion on him. "...You're not going to take my advice and talk to someone about this, are you?"
"Probably not."
"In any case, we're here." Kio let him go, leading the way towards his destination. The elevated gray-cement steps on Ritsuka's right led up to the large, decorative glass doors of the public library. Ritsuka clenched his jaw. Dammit. The last place he wanted to be right now.
"I need a textbook for class tomorrow. It will only be a couple minutes inside," Kio said with an acknowledging wave, entering through the doors.
Couple minutes of hell.
As he went ahead without him, Ritsuka debated whether or not to follow inside. He supposed it would be the polite thing to do. But it's not what Ritsuka was required to go. It wasn't his textbook. And he didn't have to do anything he didn't want to do... right?
"How very right you are, Ritsuka."
Appearing beside him, a tall, male librarian with a blond high ponytail peered over at him with a sunny smile. Ritsuka stumbled back, holding in a gasp.
The hell…?
He realized after a moment that he had spoken his thought out loud for the entire world to hear him.
The man's periwinkle-colored eyes warmed as he asked, "Here to do homework? I'm on the clock now. If you decide that you need any help... I'll be working downstairs tonight until closing—"
"——I'm waiting for someone." Ritsuka frowned pointedly at the man. Why was he so insistent? And why was he out here if he was working?
The teenager shifted uncomfortably. A small cigarette hung out of the corner of the blond's long mouth as he reached in his purple fur coat for a lighter. Secretly out of the corner of his eye, Ritsuka watched the man light up, unintentionally focusing on the yellow-gold highlights of his crooked glasses and the glow from the flame reflected in his pupils….his irises were such a…pretty…color…
"SOUBIIIII!"
Kio flew out of nowhere down the cement steps, shouting the name and beaming at the librarian. Ritsuka dodged him in time as his best friend barreled into Soubi's space, throwing an open arm around his shoulders. "You are actually AWAY from a canvas? What are you doing here with my buddy, Sou-chan? Flirting with him? Didn't know you had a thing for kids..."
Ritsuka scowled deeply at Kio as the man named Soubi chuckled lowly, muttering, "You're an idiot." Ritsuka's skin began to form into tiny knobs from the deep laughter. It was a very musical and masculine noise. He rubbed his arms irritably.
"Kio, you have homework… and you," Ritsuka complained, glancing sharply at the blond man, "have work."
"No need to get so testy, Rit-chan, I was only kidding." Kio tucked his arm into Ritsuka's and waved merrily to Soubi who shrugged, going for the library's entrance silently, "Byebye! See you in class!"
As they rounded the block for the heart of the apartment buildings, he elbowed the younger, asking, "So...what was that, Ritsuka? Back there, you looked like you've swallowed something nasty." Ritsuka ripped his arm from Kio's, leaving the older looking outwardly a bit miffed.
"I should go home before the streetlamps turn on."
"It's only six."
"My aunt doesn't like it when I am late."
Dark blue eyes trailed over Ritsuka's heavily bandaged hand resting at his sides. "You think I don't know this..." Kio's darkened expression on the bandages quickly faded into a familiar, friendly smile as he patted his friend's shoulder consolingly, "Then you're coming over tomorrow to finish Septimal Moon...you only think you have a choice in the matter..."
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"You're not going to take my advice and talk to someone about this, are you?"
Kio was worried. That was understandable.
Daydreaming doesn't hurt you.
(It doesn't hurt like that.)
It would make his aunt worry more. Everyone would worry more.
Worry. Worry. Worry.
...he could not do what Kio wanted.
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"Ritsuka, I missed you..."
She said this, tightening the ropes binding his arms behind him to one of the wooden kitchen chairs, tears running freely down her face. Her dark purplish eyes blinked frantically. Her hair had loosened from her ponytail. Several long, jet-black strands sticking to the moisture on her cheeks. His aunt petted Ritsuka's hair soothingly between her small slender fingers smelling strongly of rice and spices.
"Why were you gone for so long...?"
"I'm sorry." She needed his love. She needed to calm down. She needed him here to do it since her son and her husband were not there to help him. Ritsuka smiled kindly up at her, closing his eyes as her cool fingers stroked his temple, repeating the mantra, "I'm sorry."
"I'm teaching you a lesson, my little Ritsuka. Those people out there can hurt you. They will hurt you..." Misaki whispered, picking up a cutting knife from the tabletop in front of Ritsuka, running the tip over the line of his jaw and leaving a tiny, weeping red line. She raised it again, her tears landing on the material of his shirt. "And they will hurt you..."
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TBC...
Loveless belongs to a very special lady in all of our hearts: Yun Kouga. Where is my newest chapter? Huh? Misaki is a sick woman, isn't she? I really do pity her. Oh, dear sweet revenge could be possible, oh yes. SOUBI- RESCUE RITSUKA PLEASE! -cuddles butterfly pillow she named after her favorite Fighter- Oh, and I cannot write crazyCRAZY torture and/or rape and/or mutilation fics. So no worries there. This is suppose to be more of a psychological fear story. Based on everything that's been going on at my end...I am damn surprised I even had an update. Don't get excited for an early one. If I am EFFING LUCKY I will have one early in September. Sorry. That's how life rolls. And I hate it. T.T Bless you reviewers and readers! You are the only ones giving me sanity now...