Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own SDK, despite my best efforts.
Summary: Just a chappie about people's lives.
Notes: Thanks for reviews. (plugplug) And Kim, will you text me when you're done reading, thanks. (plugplug)
The lives and times.
The ride home in the taxi was uncomfortably quiet. Yuya stayed completely silent, wringing her hands in her lap, twisting the corner of her skirt between her fingers. The rain lashed against the windows as the car hummed along the empty suburban streets.
Kyo sat with his elbow resting against the window, watching the rain dribble down the cool glass. The quiet stretched on for an endless eternity, but he refused to break it. He couldn't possibly make the first move to break it; otherwise the ritual would be corrupted.
Yuya could feel the tears well up at the bottom of her eyes. Her face flushed, her stomach clenched, her eyes stung with the effort of restraining the tears threatening to flow. Finally she couldn't take it anymore, the silence, the sadness and she edged closer to Kyo on the seat. The leather squeaked under her, she reached out her hands and grabbed a hold of his wide forearm, leaning her body against it, embracing it and burying her face into his shoulder. She allowed a few tears to free themselves but otherwise made no sound.
Kyo stayed motionless, as if he did not even notice the girl had latched herself onto his arm. But he did not push her away either. This was the ritual; this was the way it had to happen. Yuya was a creature of feeling who embraced the earth and every emotion in it, but suppressed her sadness, her anger and fear. These feelings would well up inside until she was ready to explode in one angry/sad/fearful tirade and Kyo would be the one to NEVER hear the end of it. So he allowed her to free her emotions more quietly at small intervals to avoid the outbursts and save his eardrums for another faithful day.
Yuya, grateful for his silent understanding, kept hold of his arm for the rest of their car journey.
The car murmured to a stop. Kyo paid their fare and shook his arm slightly to make Yuya move. She jumped a little, as if just woken up and got out of the car, throwing her arms over her head to stop the torrential rain. The car drove away and Kyo opened the front door, shaking the rain out of his hair as a dog would and stepping into the hall, Yuya following him all the way into the living room.
"Sit." He ordered and walked into the kitchen. And sit, she did so. She sat uncomfortably on the chair, as though this house was alien to her, frightened as a guilty child who knows that they're in trouble. This small house, simple, but with a touch of class, comfy and always warm is the place she has come to call her home. Rented home, but once she did the washing and most of the cooking and at least half of the cleaning, Kyo really didn't care if she paid her rent or not.
She heard the clink of glasses and he re-emerged from the kitchen, carrying two glasses of amber coloured liquid. He passed a glass to her, with a much smaller measure than his and reclined on the brown sofa next to her.
"Drink it." He ordered.
Without thinking, she put the glass to her lips and downed a drop, only to splutter and choke as the strong liquid burned her throat and tongue.
"Wha-what the hell is this?" She spat after she finished spluttering.
"Whiskey." He replied smoothly.
"WHAT?"
"Wild Turkey to be precise." A little smirk curled at the edge of his mouth at her anger.
"You want me to get drunk?" She cried indignantly.
"No."
"Then what the-"
"You'll feel better." He interrupted quietly. "Drink."
He said no more, taking a particularly large swig from his glass. Any normal man would at least make a face at the size of the measure he took, but not Kyo. It was like water to him.
Yuya made a face at her glass. She didn't really feel like drinking, but then, she wasn't exactly in the best of moods, far from it infact, so maybe…
Kyo cast an eye over at her and she quickly took a drink from her glass. The whiskey stung as it ran down her throat and she felt her stomach boil as it hit the bottom. Then an oddly… warm, relaxed feeling over took and she calmed down.
Okay Kyo, you were right, she thought dimly, again.
He waited a few seconds, until he heard her sigh and set down his empty glass on the table.
"Okay… now you can talk."
"But… I already-"
"I know you didn't say what you really wanted to say, so come on," he lay back in the chair and rested his feet up on the coffee table, "lay it on me."
Yuya stayed silent for a minute to register what he meant, then told him everything. Her story mostly just about the start, when they found Benitora and how much she felt like an idiot for not calling an ambulance.
Kyo folded his arms, readying himself for one long story. He wouldn't even have to open his mouth. Yuya would come to him with a problem, talk it over, realise her own mistake and then thank him for helping her. He never bothered to correct her though; he thought it might make her seem like a bit of a fool…
"…So then I called Akira for help and-"
"Wait wait wait. You called Akira for help? Why? Didn't you already call the ambulance?" He interrupted.
"Well," Yuya played with her thumbs, "I thought he could help and we didn't know when the Ambulance would get there." Kyo raised one eyebrow. "Look, he was the only person I could think of, okay?" She snarled and continued with her story.
Kyo slumped back in his seat. She called that… that little boy for help? Sure Akira was reliable, but he was just a little kid. Why didn't she call…?
He shook his head. She didn't trust him to do the right thing at the right time.
He quickly stopped thinking about himself when the tears once again welled up in her eyes as she told him about what happened in the ambulance.
They finally thought everything would be okay, when Benitora's shivering got worse and worse. She told him about how his chest convulsed and his eyes rolled back in his head. How his torso rose and fell as he thrashed. How she could hear the blood gargle in his lungs as he slowly drowned in his own fluid. How the doctor tried to restrain his convulsions. How he suddenly slumped back and stopped breathing, eyes wide open and white, completely bloodshot. How the doctor in the ambulance had to roughly shove a tube down his throat and drain the blood back out, using the other end to strap to an online respirator. How his body suddenly clamed and looked so weak, so helpless, not dead but not alive either. How it felt like watching a horror movie and poor Mahiro nearly collapsed.
Kyo bit his lower lip. He didn't think, didn't expect her to have seen so much. It must have… really scared her. She's just a kid, she doesn't know what she's getting herself into if she wants to be a nurse…
Yuya hugged herself and chocked out a sob. Kyo stood up and walked towards the kitchen.
"It's… it's all m-my fault!" She whimpered.
Kyo stopped dead in his tracks. "What?"
"It is!" She cried. "It is my fault. Benitora nearly d-died because of me! I'm s-so stupid!"
She sobbed into her hands while Kyo turned to face her. He balled his fists, face set into a snarl.
"Don't be so selfish!" She snarled behind his teeth.
Yuya sniffed and looked up at him. "Wha-?"
"He's sick. You didn't make him sick! How selfish can you be? What gives you the right to take the blame for this, when it's clearly no ones fault. Feel sorry for yourself all you want, because he's the one in hospital strapped to that respirator. You wanna look for sympathy, go somewhere else. I don't have time for silly girls who look for attention when nothing's wrong with them."
With these words he walked out into the kitchen and through the back door, slamming it on his way out. She could imagine him lighting up a smoke and leaning against the wall, fists shaking and face set in an angry grimace.
Yuya stayed silent, still hugging herself, the tears poured their way down her face.
He was right. Again. Benitora was very sick, and here she was feeling sorry for herself. She did help, after all, what would have happened if she and Mahiro didn't find him? Would it be another incident with Sasuke coming in and finding him dead on the floor? The child is already pretty depressed, he didn't need much more.
She wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. No, I won't feel sorry for myself, not anymore.
-(Break)-
It was Thursday again. Thursday was the day to do all the food orders and wine orders for The Grand Shogun, a popular restaurant in one of the more swanky parts of town.
Bontenmaru sighed and took off his reading glasses, brushing a stray silver hair away from his face. Sitting at the kitchen table with lots of order lists and a bunch of crap, he continued to scrawl out the seemingly endless orders for the kitchen. He laughed as he pictured himself with a monocle, after all he did only have one eye, why would he need glasses?
Food orders were a tedious task, especially when he wasn't standing in the walk in freezer, taking the stock. But he wanted to be at home with Okuni more than taking care of his restaurant.
The Grand Shogun was a grand restaurant indeed. Bontenmaru invested in the small property four years ago, and as the years went, his business grew to one of the most successful restaurants in town. He, the head chef, took care of nearly everything there, stock take, finances, menus, the people he employed, the people he fired and he was certainly one of the best at his job. Friendly, down to earth, intelligent and above all, kind and considerate made him excel in the ranks and the above qualities were what drew one Izumo No Okuni to him. Six months had passed since their marriage and Bon was happier than he had ever been in his life.
His current mood however, was not so happy. Stock take took several hours and he didn't even have the stock taken on the wine lists yet. He still had to go through the finances and see how much more they could bring in, he still needed to order more cutlery and plates, one of the new waitresses is a little shy and keeps breaking stuff…
He put down his pen and rubbed his eye. Benitora was very sick as well. There was that too. He couldn't say he wasn't worried, hell 'Tora gave him a bunch of paintings to fashion The Grand Shogun with when he was stuck for an artist. And he did it for free because Bon was stuck for money. Hell he loved that kid, talented and funny as they came, now weak and helpless in hospital. Damn shame.
They needed more Man Vinters Shiraz, and that stuff didn't come cheap either…
"I finally get you home and you still won't cook for me!" Okuni whined at him as she walked into the kitchen wearing black velvet tracksuit bottoms and a blue string top. She had been practicing yoga in the living room, but had to stop for a break. Bon looked over at her and smiled as she opened the refrigerator.
"I mean really," she continued to nag "you're a chef! Head chef! And you won't even cook for your own wife? Where's my gourmet cooking? Where's-"
She was cut off in mid sentence when a pair of large hands wrapped around her waist and gently pulled her close. He laid his palms flat on her tiny stomach and his chin over her shoulder, breathing in her perfume and sighing.
"Don't get worked up, sweetheart." His voice had become at least two tones deeper than it's usual deep tenor that played arpeggios down her spine in a soft, comforting way. "It's not good for you." He patted her stomach and closed his eyes, still unable to believe it. If only his father was still alive to hear the news.
Okuni couldn't help but smile and closed the refrigerator door, returning her husband's embrace.
"I'm only three weeks in, you know." She said slowly.
"Doesn't matter." He said and took her hand, holding it above her head so she twirled out, her long hair flowing out in a river of black. "I don't want to take any chances. Not with you."
She twirled back in and embraced him, her head resting against his chest. Maybe she could let him away with the cooking, just for tonight.
"I love you." He said, holding her tight. "Both of you."
-(Break)-
Thursday night and Sasuke was still doing homework. He sighed and slammed his maths book shut. It was impossible, truly impossible that he would ever need these pointless equations later on in life. He had enough on his mind anyway.
He rose from his bed, copybook falling to the floor as he did so but he pretended not to notice. How could he focus on his work, after finding out the news? Possibly the only person who accepted the fact that he was weird, and liked that fact was sitting in a hospital bed.
Benitora to Sasuke was like an older brother. Sasuke was never normal per say. No one could call him human, because technically he wasn't. Sasuke has the unfortunate pleasure of being what was known as a test tube baby. An experiment. An abomination. Call him what you wish, Sasuke is not a normal child. Fifteen years of age, silver hair and yellow eyes with slits for pupils, abnormally strong and very stoic. Blessed with quick intelligence and a tongue sharper than any blade out there.
The only one who has ever accepted (and understood) all these traits was one Benitora. People usually try not to say anything to him about these traits for fear of offending him. What offended him was the fact that people try to ignore his abnormalities infront of him and whisper behind hands when he's not around. People pitied him for being so different. Benitora however, not only noticed the fact, but said it outright and embraced it. He said that things out of the ordinary were like a source of inspiration to him, and was glad Sasuke was more like himself than the clones he seems to find every passing day. He took no pity on him, but praised the fact that he was so unique.
This comment brought a little smile to his sharp featured face, and although Sasuke thought Benitora of a bit of a fool, he really brought him down to earth and made him feel more human, and at the same time made him feel like what he really was. It was a good way to be.
Unique.
He padded into the kitchen in his pyjamas, searching for the last bottle of coke before Yukimura would notice. He located it and walked back through the living room nodding at Yukimura on the couch, who was watching TV.
"Sasuke, wait!" He called just as Sasuke turned the handle for the hallway. He clenched his eyes shut. What now?
"I want to talk to you." Yukimura swung his legs from his lounging position and patted the couch beside him. With a sigh, Sasuke sat down and opened the bottle, drinking without once looking up.
"I know you've been kind of depressed lately…" He began. Sasuke rolled his eyes. Here we go again…
"Don't roll your eyes. I'm just saying… try to cheer up, okay? That girl, she isn't worth getting upset over."
"It's not about her." He said slowly. "I'm fifteen, it's called being hormonal. I'll be fine."
Yukimura frowned at him, which made Sasuke try harder not to offend him. "Trust me." He stood up and turned the handle on the door to the hallway. "You'll see, I'll be fine. I'm jut trying to sort my head out."
With that he walked out into the hallway and proceeded up the stairs.
"I trust you, Sasuke." He heard Yukimura say sadly from the living room. He stooped for a second to think, then with a sigh, walked up the rest of the stairs and flopped back onto his bed.
He didn't like making Yukimura sad. It was just his stoic manner. He adopted it from talking to Akira for too long, mostly just about asking for help with his maths homework. He respects Akira great deal. He seemed so together, like a man who had his whole life ahead of him and was completely and utterly ready for it.
But you can't be stoic or sad around Yukimura. At least Sasuke couldn't. He was never his father, but Sasuke liked to believe he was. After Sasuke was "born", he was kept in a "home" at the laboratory. The scientists tried to find him a suitable home but no one seemed to want him, due to his abnormalities. Then Yukimura, who found out from newspapers and the like that this child needed a family pronto, took pity on his loneliness and gave him a place to stay.
Because Yukimura was a very lonely person. Unable to stay in a relationship for too long, dangerously overactive libido and a fondness for drink destroyed his romantic relationships, when really, he just wanted someone to care for. He wanted to turn his life around, and taking in Sasuke at the tender age of seven changed his life completely. He drank less and was able to stick to a full time job, mostly just because someone was there who depended on him, who he cared for.
Sasuke was like a gift, a child in desperate need for a family, for a man in desperate need of responsibility, Sasuke was the very thing that saved Yukimura from the gutter, and in time (very short time) grew to know him as "father".
Now Sasuke wasn't allowed to be sad, but the point was that he wasn't sad. It was just his age; mood swings and the like were commonplace. He's just trying to find the right state of mind, that's all. He just wished someone would understand this.
He thought about talking to Benitora about this, being the understanding soul he is, but then he remembered he was in the hospital. His bad mood deepened.
I wish I could find someone who could understand me. Because I don't understand me! Someone other than Benitora!
He sighed and turned over, knocking his pencil case to floor, but ignored it. I thought she understood me…
He punched his pillow. No! I refuse to get angry over her! She never understood me! She just pitied me! She just…
He turned onto his back and stared at the posters on his ceiling. System of a Down, Metallica and Audioslave all glared down at him from the ceiling, but offered no solace.
Why do I care? What's the point in getting so worked up about this anyway? Why can't I just…
Flow…Sasuke turned back over and crawled under the covers, promising himself to go visit Benitora at the hospital after school tomorrow to see if he can sort it out. He smiled, the words that cheered him up one day that Benitora said, words that he promised he would never forget.
… You wouldn't understand 'Tora.
Hmm, why?
You don't know what it's like to be… a freak.
I dunno… I mean, look at me Sasuke. I am a ginger you know.
Author's notes: I will give cyber cookies to those who can tell where I got the name for Bon-san's restaurant!