East of Eden
a YuGiOh fanfic by Milly
beta: Chicary
[AU, Het, Jou/Mai, UST]
Chapter Three
A/N The more I work on this piece, the more I realize how slow a buildup this is going to be. Hang in there... Bear with me for a little more introspection! Enjoy!
***
Although he could not see the woman's features from underneath her imposing sunglasses, Joey had the distinct feeling it was her.
She had been two different women to him, and now she appeared to have a third incarnation.
His first pre-teen crush, the muse he was looking forward to meet in his (wet) dreams. The attractive young woman he was looking forward to meet everyday in the palliative care center.
Now, she was the middle aged lady who feigned shortsightedness at his very own sister's grave.
Joey sighed. It was probably a mistake. It was highly unlikely that she was who he thought she was.
No, he probably didn't know this woman after all. He was standing a few meters from her, and had cleared his throat once already. She would have taken notice of him by now if it really was her. He shook his head in disbelief.
Wishful thinking.
She was a random passerby, who didn't actually know Serenity. No, most likely, she had come here to pay her respects to a beloved relative just like he had, and she was simply pausing to take a closer look at the shockingly short life span carved on the pink stone she happened to pass by at that moment. She would soon notice Joey's presence behind her, and turn to him, see his bouquet and apologetically leave.
She did have the looks - and even aura - of a proper lady; surely she'd nod to him gracefully, offer him a kind smile with an understated word of condolence, and proceed to give him the privacy she knew he needed. Or, worst case scenario, she would turn out to be endearingly socially awkward despite the appearances, and she would voice her surprise at the deceased's young age. Of course, it would be obvious it was an innocent comment - she would mean no harm by it.
Joey felt he was getting carried away, letting his mind stray from the memory of his sister for whom he had driven here. The man shifted, waiting for her to make the first move. Ill at ease, he looked away from the grave, as if his gaze would intrude her personal space.
He could wait. He had all day.
***
It was a bad habit of his, finding familiar attributes in the women he saw in public places.
At age ten, he became engrossed with the memory of the mother who abandoned him. His parents' relationship had been rocky from the start. They had been sleeping in separate rooms from even before Joey could remember. Joey and Serenity's closeness was hence brought about by sharing a bunk bed during their most tender years.
Elaine Kawai, a second-generation Japanese-American, had been pushing for a divorce for a while, but just didn't have the heart to leave her abusive husband and break the family unit apart. Low self-esteem and high resilience combined, the woman took it all in, priding herself in being a virtuous woman. She felt she was doing her best to raise her stubborn son, with whom she felt no chemistry, and took refuge in babying her daughter, in an attempt to shelter her from the outside world.
For a while, they acted like a stable, 'struggling-like-everyone-else' family. Their life seemed uneventful to their neighbors, and even their loved ones.
But the day, the hour, the very minute Bruce Wheeler laid a hand on her precious daughter, something clicked in Elaine's mind. It was all it took for her to irrationally flee the home with Serenity, taking pains in hiding from then on, in fear of a very potential retribution... leaving her son behind in his father's 'good care'.
All that, Joey learned it much later, from aunts and other relatives. At the time, he was just another attention-seeking kid suddenly deprived of his mother, and he hoped to see her around every corner. He would openly approach his mother's look-alikes with a heart-melting 'mommy', thus earning a vast array of distraught, amused or saddened reactions from the female strangers.
For a while, he was also drawn to frail, red headed girls, who would sadly not give the time of day to the acne ridden teenage, but his 'Serenity' phase' didn't last as long. Stuck in a suddenly estrogen-deprived home, with an emotionally handicapped father, Joey found the next woman of his life in the card game Yuugi and co. had introduced him to: Duel Monsters.
Mai Valentine - her "stage" name - was the only female among the top pro duelists, and she was very feminine to boot. A proud summer blonde with a curvaceous yet slim figure, she also happened to be a talented duelist with a public persona characterized by a flirtatious and fierce personality.
Hadn't he met her in real person in such unlikely circumstances, Mai Kujaku would have remained Mai Valentine: his idolized, unattainable, first adolescent love. During the time she took Serenity "under her wing", Joey met a surprisingly lonely young woman, along with her entourage of anxieties and insecurities.
Then again, the Mai Kujaku he got to know would have been no more than one of the many important woman in his life, hadn't she disappeared from his life so abruptly. He felt his heart twitch at the thought; this 'breakup' of sorts still felt like unfinished business to him, and he could never really put a cross on it.
For that reason, young Joey Wheeler found himself obsessed with her, at least for the time the scars of Mai-withdrawal were still fresh. He enrolled himself in a part-time vocational program, all the while providing for himself and his tuition, and immersed himself completely in this demanding lifestyle. By the time his memories of the blonde woman had faded, he had already become a workaholic. This phase of his life lasted for a while as well...
Somehow, as soon as he took part in the dating scene, Joey found himself not mindlessly running after slim, young, boisterous blondes.
Rather, every woman he got intimate with had a very particular 'je-ne-sais-quoi' that reminded him of Mai.
One lover had her laugh. One eyed other men with the same arrogance. Another one would react coyly like she would in most unexpected times.
For once, instead of leading to awkward situations like the endearing patronizing attitude from his mother figures, or the disdainful remarks thrown at him by his sister's look alikes, Joey's curiosity lead, for the first time, to fateful encounters.
The more he dared approach the women who reminded him of the 'Duelist-turned-auxiliary-nurse', the more he learned to let loose with them in more ways than one. Joey already took for granted that sex and love were completely unrelated from his household experiences and that love itself can be devoid of tenderness. But in the arms of these free spirited, epicurean women, he learned but that there can be genuine respect, tenderness and mutual pleasure even in a casual encounter.
A butterfly flew by, distracting Joey from his reflections.
Something was odd.
He and the attractive stranger had been standing a few meters apart for over a minute, and none of them had made a move to acknowledge the other.
Were they unrelated passerby's, they would have started interacting.
But this lack of interaction was in fact a form of interaction in itself.
It was clear that by now, she not pretending to mourn in silence, and Joey could not imagine someone could be as rude as to give him the cold shoulder in a cemetery.
He didn't feel comfortable with stepping in her personal space, stepping forward to lay down the bouquet between her and the grave. It would be unpleasant for both of them if he cleared his throat once more. He would feel bad if he simply left, went for a walk downtown, the thought of the tulips he'd temporarily left in the car weighing on his mind.
Tentatively, he stepped back, hoping it would win him some time. As he did, his hands unconsciously clashed around the wrapping of the bouquet, and the rigid plastic ruffled in a crisp sound.
She shivered at the noise, not turning to see where it was coming from. And as he saw her body tense for a second, Joey confirmed she was not indifferent to him.
She was expecting him to act first.
***
R&R! Constructive criticism will help me become a better writer! :)