Disclaimer: I do not own KnA.
Small warning for inappropriate touching and cursing, but nothing explicit. If you don't like to see that stuff in T-rated stories then skip it.
Chapter 5:
For the next day, Hikaru kept his head down. He was back to being big inconspicuous Hikaru to Mrs. Musashibo. But the gnawing feeling in his gut wasn't any better when he researched the weather and storm and current patterns of the day of Mr. Musashibo at the computer in the local library. When the truck was towed back to their driveway, Mrs. Musashibo forbade Hikaru from driving it unless he was working, so he had no choice but to walk to the library. Some townspeople knew him as he stepped in, most curious and a bit glad that someone supposedly as dumb and unskilled as he was putting forth the effort to taking advantage of a learning tool. The head librarian was a bit dismayed that he went to the computer and used it for research, hovering over him every once in a while to check on what he was looking at.
To his dismay all final reports of weather proved to be the same. Clear, currents on track. It hadn't rained. It hadn't stormed. Just as he thought. So the storm idea was a lie. A bold faced lie to appease the public while the U.S military figured out what the next move was. Usually they are quick to bust a move if they were attacked. So it was apparent that the U.S. military was still finding the disappearance of their carrier a mystery.
He decided to crosscheck the information with some actual books, especially current charts, which was in a reference room in the far back of the library. There were no windows in the room and the lights seemed to be off. The only light was from a desk lamp where a man with white hair was reading. Hikaru didn't pay much attention to him and sifted through maritime cartography books and current charts.
"What arrre you looking for?" the annoyed voice of the man at the desk interrupted the silence. Hikaru looked back at the man and even though he had white hair, his face was rather young. His skin was dark, wore a black and gold jacket and spectacles on his nose, covering his vivid blue eyes. Beside him, sitting on the floor next to his chair was a black dog. A rather thin but big black dog. Greyhound-like if it wasn't for the perched ears. He was silent, patient, staring right at Hikaru with wide defensive eyes.
To Hikaru the man was peculiar looking, obviously not Japanese. It wasn't unheard of for foreigners to spend a day or two at port, but he just didn't look like a fisherman or a shipper. Especially since it was clear he was a reader with a stack of books on the desk and a notebook perched on his knee. He could've been a tourist, even if this particular port town wasn't exactly thriving with tourists wanting a seaside resort.
"Current flow," Hikaru answered.
The man sighed sounding exasperated as if Hikaru were trying to fit a square block in a round hole, "Why?"
Hikaru couldn't think of any answer other than the truth, "I guess gaining more information on a ship disappearance."
The man stopped scratching in his notebook, his blue eyes narrowing, "The Nathaniel Greene?"
Hikaru shrugged his shoulders, "Something related, yes."
"Wasn't it a storm?"
Hikaru mentally sighed, "That's what they say yes."
"You don't believe them?"
"I do not."
"So you're an expert then," the man shifted back in his seat, the small light causing the man's shadow against the brown wall to be tall and thin, like a bird. A thin, crane-like bird.
"No. I just don't think it was a storm."
The dog snorted lightly. "You are still an idiot. Still no brains behind that good-looking face," the man fiddled with his notebook, clicking the pen in his hand. "It was definitely a storm. A storm of some kind. An unusual storm of epic proportions but definitely a storm."
Hikaru frowned at the man. He knew he was stupid, but he didn't need someone he didn't know calling him that, "Just as well, I'll still look at the charts."
Giving a short click between his teeth, the man sighed, before pulling a book from his stack. "Then here." He handed him the moldy dusty book with faded gold letters on the side that read: Carta Marina, Olus Magnus. Hikaru opened the book and found brown colored pages with lines and outlines drawn in faded red and blue of incorrectly measured countries. The cartographer must've made up several countries and how they were shaped. To him, it seemed Japan barely existed. In what was the oceans were several detailed intricate drawings of sea creatures. Monstrous sea creatures that were malformed and misshapen composites of random things seeming made out of pure fantasy than rather an attempt to create a scientific experience. Regardless, the artist or cartographer seemed to really pay close attention and care to those sea monsters.
"This won't help me."
The man crossed his arms over his chest, "Of course it will."
"It's just a bunch of monsters some wannabe put on scribblings of lines and called it a map."
"It is a map," the spectacled dark-skinned man argued. "A map of the things people fear most."
"So nightmares? Fantasies? These things don't exist."
Another sigh, "Boy did I misjudge your stupidity. No, airhead, of course they exist. Folk don't have that great of an imagination to just make these things up at the fly. You just haven't seen these things because they can't come out of hiding. At least they haven't been able to for a while."
Mrs. Musashibo told Hikaru once that whenever he was upset but unsure of why, his mouth was quirked in a half snarl, his right eye squinting lightly, nose wrinkling. It was an involuntary action, but now he physically felt himself pull up that half snarl. Snarling at people or looking down upon them wasn't his thing, but something about this…birdman and his dog upset him. More than likely it was his overly familiar tone.
Hikaru handed the book back, "Thanks, but I'll do my own research."
The man cleared his throat and at the same time the dog put his head down on the floor with a high-pitched whine, "Unfortunately, I cannot force you to do anything even if I really, really wanted to. Suit yourself then."
For a moment the man sounded disappointed and Hikaru didn't much care, he just grabbed a book of current charts—not sure if they were the ones he was looking for—and set out to find another place to research. Nothing he found changed his mind. He still felt deep in the back of his head there was something more to the disappearance of the Nathaniel Greene and Mr. Musashibo.
By the time he left the library, his nose was looking worse. Mrs. Musashibo examined it and determined it wasn't broken, just a bit bruised. His eye looked horrendous. It looked like he got suckered in the eye at a fight. It was only half true. When patrol found him he immediately tried to run. The two guys immediately resolved to use as much force as they could one of them cursing quite loud, "Fuck, you're a big guy for a kid."
During the scuffle, one of the guards tried to pin him to the wall but missed, knocking Hikaru's nose with his elbow. More cursing and profuse apologies before they reverted back to considering him as a common teenaged thug.
Needless to say Hikaru's week wasn't the greatest. He had to go back and face the Kusanagi's after disrupting their dinner they so kindly invited him to. Mr. Kusanagi made no mention of it as he answered the door.
"I have to go into town for a bit, but Yui will be around to help you with anything you need. Alright?"
Mr. Kusanagi didn't seem displeased or pleased to see him and Hikaru didn't dare make a fuss. He just worked finally fixing that leak, and replacing the stones.
Yui was a little relieved to see Hikaru back in spite of that horrible dinner. This time, wearing a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his forearms and green-tan slacks with his usual steel-toed boots. Then she noticed a big bruise on the bridge of his nose and on the inside of his eye. Had he gotten into a fight? Somehow, she couldn't imagine someone like him who didn't seem like he's purposely hurt someone, get into an actual fistfight. Or if he did, she didn't think he'd lose.
He looked depressed and upset as his face was set in a frown. Her father couldn't have given him a tongue lashing after his rather abrupt departure the other night. After all that he was still defending Hikaru. So did she, knowing he was still a good kid, incidental rudeness aside.
She went up to say hi. He greeted back, though very dull. He wouldn't meet her face. He just stood with a rake in his hands.
"What happened to your eye?" she asked. Hikaru touched the bridge of his nose feeling the sting still. He could also feel the stretch across his eye of the bruised skin.
He frowned, "An accident."
"A fight?" Yui's tone dipped lower knowingly.
Hikaru was caught. While he didn't get into a fight per se, he couldn't very well tell her that he had gotten arrested for trespassing onto government property. That would just make him sound even more like an idiot.
"It was just a bad day," he replied. "I apologize about last time. It was rude of me to walk out of a dinner like that. I'm surprised your father still wants me to work for him."
Yui laughed a little, "My father likes you, you know."
Hikaru's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Yui nodded, "Yeah, he likes that you work hard, at least in comparison to my brothers."
They pitied him, he could tell. Was it so wrong to be pitied? It was one thing if he felt he was a better, more capable person, but since he felt insecure and useless, being pitied didn't bother him much.
Yui sighed to herself and suggested, "You can make it up to him. Some of the local shrines are sponsoring the Suigo Festival tomorrow night in town, we'd appreciate if you could come."
Hikaru thought for a moment. He'd have to run it by Ms. Musashibo first, but then…
He stared at Yui's kimono. Would he have to wear one? He didn't own any kimonos. Not many people did in the town he lived in. They obviously had ceremonial kimonos but given the climate, they weren't rather practical. Regardless, could he even find a kimono his size?
"Is it formal?" he asked.
Yui glanced where he was staring, realizing he meant wearing a kimono. She shook her head, "Oh no. There will be plenty of people wearing kimono, as well as normal clothes. I myself may go in casual, since I'm in uniform all day."
Hikaru nodded, "I'll have to ask Mrs. Musashibo, but I can try to go."
"Good," Yui reflexively gave him a friendly hit in the back. It was only as she got into the house when she started questioning why she did that.
Hikaru finished up and left, saying farewell to Yui, leaving her alone. She busied herself in scrubbing the mats on the kendo floor, a little unnerved at all the silence. Usually her household was busy with brothers, brothers' friends and girlfriends, mother and father, going in and out, but Yui couldn't deny a little bit of pleasure in having the house to herself for once.
Yui turned abruptly as the silence was interrupted by three knocks. Three knocks exactly, perfectly timed and spaced in between each other. By the way the knocks pounded at the wood of her door it was a very very large hand.
She answered her door and was greeted by a wall of black. She had no choice but to look up. In front of her was a man, the biggest tallest man she had ever seen. He was so large that the top of her doorway only reached his chin. This man, whoever he was, wore a dark black suit that shimmered like raven's feathers in the sunlight. His long equally rich black hair was tied back and his black beard was finely trimmed. Over his eyes were sunglasses.
"C-can I help you?" she asked, not really believing that this man truly existed.
The man brought up his hand that held a long thin white pipe. He took a moment to prod tobacco into the bowl with his pinky finger, the only finger that could possibly fit that hole. On that pinky was a large signet ring in the shape of a tree, its roots wrapping eternally around his finger, holding it firm on his hand.
"Perhaps," his voice was low and booming and was thick with some sort of accent that seemed akin to Hikaru's.
"Has there been a boy working here? He's got blond hair, blue eyes, can't stand on his two feet even if his life depended on it?"
Obviously she answered with the closest person she could think, "There is a boy by the name of Hikaru who does odd jobs for us, but he left a while ago. Can I take a message?"
The man's great chest expanded as he sighed, he lifted up his sunglasses and if it were possible, Yui was even more stricken with fear. One eye was brightest, iciest blue she had ever seen. Her whole body seemed cold just looking at it. The other was shut tight, a darkened red mass of old scar tissue wrapping and spreading around in no certain pattern that Yui was able to discern what kind of damage was done.
He scrutinized her, a daunting experience.
"No, that is fine," he grumbled, taking a puff of his pipe. His eye wandered up at her building. "This is a shrine, yes?"
Yui nodded.
"To whom?"
"To no one specifically," Yui answered. "People pray to whomever god they want to. Or to all the gods at once."
The man chuckled, "How very egalitarian. No god is going to get their feelings hurt here."
Yui's brow arched. A shrine was a shrine. Hers wasn't the only shrine that didn't have a patron attached to it.
"Is there something you need, Mister…um…?"
He took a puff out of his pipe again, "Call me Wotan."
"Mr. Wotan."
"I guess I could take a look at your shrine. I would like to speak to a few gods in particular."
Yui paused. Did he want her to lead him to the shrine? It was just up the steps. "I would ask that you didn't smoke there please."
Mr. Wotan went silent, eye staring directly through her. He pulled the tip of the pipe out of his mouth, and rudely blew the smoke into her face, but strangely the smoke smelled sweet and a little salty. Slowly, he took his pinky and pressed it into the bowl of his pipe, extinguishing the embers, reaching over and dropping the ashes on the flowerbed by the steps to the house. Those flowers stood up straight and strong.
"Are you the shrine maiden?" he asked.
"No…well not really."
"A priestess then."
"Gosh no. I just take care of the shrine."
His eyes narrowed as if he were a little disappointed, like he expected something greater from her. She was just a shrine keeper. Regardless she held pride in her job. A strong wrinkle cut a line into his beard as he gave a wolfish grin, showing impressive incisors. He reached over with his great hand and gently patted her head, almost affectionately.
"Then take me to the shrine, caretaker."
She led him up the steps and pointed to the small shrine. To her it wasn't small, but considering this man towered the very building, she amended that reality. To him it was just a house for a minor spirit.
Yui sat back behind and watched him as he approached the shrine. He stood for several minutes in silence. Perhaps he was really talking to some spirits or gods. Two dark ravens landed on top of the shrine and stood walking a little on the ledge, heads bobbing with each movement.
Mr. Wotan brought his hands out, finishing his talk or prayer with a traditional clap, his hands sounding like iron as he brought them together.
"Yui, I'm back!" She turned to find her brother running up the steps with a bag of groceries. "What's up?"
She turned to glance at the shrine about to point, telling him about the man in prayer. But he was gone with no sign of where he went. Only those two ravens still stood perched like newly minted gargoyles.
-0000000-
If Hikaru thought his day was going to get any better, he was wrong. On the way back from the Kusanagis he got a phone call from Mrs. Hinoshiza about a pump not working. He could gather the specifics and figured he'd find out when he got to her house. It wasn't necessarily a day ruiner going to Mrs. Hinoshiza's house. He was uncomfortable there, sure.
It wasn't until he got to the house and spoke to her that he realized something was going very wrong.
For once, at least, she was dressed decently; a simple blouse and a skirt. Her eyes however were glazed over, unfocused. And as she spoke, he could smell the pungent and fruity taste of mix drinks.
"I'm glad you're here," she said a decibel louder than necessary. "I think the pump for the basement bathroom isn't working. We haven't used it recently, but my husband ran the sink yesterday and it just sputtered. It didn't go off."
"Alright," Hikaru took his toolbox and headed down into the basement, tested the sink, and then flushed the toilet. The toilet ran, but stopped abruptly. She was right. The pump wasn't working. He headed back into the furnace room, hoping he could at least fix it.
When things went downhill was around the time he pried open the pump. Two hands wove under his arms resting on his chest, the fingertips digging in hard as if to test the hardness of his chest. A warm body pressed behind him, he could feel lips pressing against his back.
It was an odd disturbing feeling and he quickly turned around. Mrs. Hinoshiza's grip was still on him, at his sides. He braced himself against the casing that held the pump. He could smell the alcohol on her breath even more.
"Mrs. Hinoshiza," he cleared his throat, his chest tight, nervous and itching to leave even though he hadn't fixed the pump.
"Stay there," she said. "I'm so glad you're here."
Her voice was soft. It wasn't seductive as it usually was. Her expression was desperate, not sultry, but everything about her touch on him he would've associated with that flirtatious version of her.
"Are you drunk?" Hikaru was so bold to ask. He wouldn't have asked though, if he wasn't dead on sure. His spine shuddered as her hands ran up his chest to cup his neck gently.
"How old are you?" she slurred.
"Sixteen." It was a lie. Sort of. Hikaru didn't know how old he was, but it was anyone's guess. Mrs. Hinoshiza purred deep in her throat.
"You're at that time when you look either really young or really old," she threw her head back and laughed. "By old I mean late twenties. But I remember you when they first brought you here. You weren't too bad then, perhaps a little slender. But you were such a nice boy. You still are."
Hikaru sucked in a breath as she pressed her lips to his fiercely. He didn't pull away; he couldn't taste anything. It wasn't the kissing he was worried about, though he was certain it was in fact his first kiss. She was pressing herself against him and the warmth pulled on some really strange sensations. A tingle here, a jolt there. He didn't dislike it, but he couldn't convince himself that he liked it either.
Mrs. Hinoshiza thankfully pulled away, her thumbs on his cheeks, caressing the whiskers. Her eyes were full of tears, "You're so handsome, so kind, but I can tell you are a virgin. What a strange world we live in that someone like you cannot find a lover, but dirty old men like Mr. Hinoshiza can gather many."
Hikaru ignored her advances for the moment. He understood what was going on. At least he thought he did. By the way that Mrs. Hinoshiza said her husband's name—"Mr. Hinoshiza"—there was a distance, an unfamiliarity, as if the woman did not even know who her husband was. For a moment, Mrs. Hinoshiza's dark eyes watered bright emerald green and Hikaru hoped it was his fogged mind—and his fogged body. She placed a soft kiss against his neck and Hikaru swallowed hard.
He supposed he felt bad for Mrs. Hinoshiza. That her husband was doing bad things, but he thought, with how self-confident she was, it wasn't like her to let that bother her, let alone take it out him.
"O bright one," she whispered against his skin like a surreal prayer. "You have grown so. So big." Her hands wandered over his chest down his stomach, ghosting over his crotch, "So large." Her hand closed around him, through his clothes squeezing gently. "But still so gentle as when you were a little boy. I wish I could take you away."
Hikaru coughed and gasped not hearing her last phrase, feeling a strange impulsive urge overcome his brain, though rather fleeting. Whatever urge he wanted to accomplish was washed away by sensibility as he used his arms to push Mrs. Hinoshiza away.
"Mrs. Hinoshiza, please stop," his said, but his voice was gentler than he wanted, his body still tingling. He realized the area around him and her was so cold and chilly. "Please, have a lie down. You do not know what you are doing."
A part of his mind he didn't like urged him to shut it, to let Mrs. Hinoshiza continue with whatever her drunken mind desired. He didn't know what would happen, but why not explore. Fortunately for Hikaru, he thought better.
She sighed, frustrated, "I know what I want and what I desire, but I do know what I must do."
He flinched when she cupped his cheek again affectionately, but she didn't touch him anywhere else.
"Take my advice, Hikaru. Run far from this place as possible. Far, far away. For your own good."
She left, presumably falling fast, fast asleep on her bed to sleep the alcohol off. Hikaru fixed the pump and didn't stay for the bill.
On the way back home, he called Mrs. Musashibo to ask if she wanted anything at the store while he was out and about, the encounter with Mrs. Hinoshiza still in his mind. He was upset, but he was certain once she came to she'd feel even worse. Mrs. Musashibo didn't answer so Hikaru stopped at the grocer's to pick up some rice and strawberries and went to the malt diner next door for a nice soothing drink. Or two.
He ordered a soda and sat at a booth, trying for Mrs. Musashibo again. He almost finished dialing her number when a shadow loomed over him and the seat across from him was quickly occupied by a figure that seemed only half real. He was the biggest man he had ever seen, even though he was sitting. He was obviously foreign. He wore a plaid jacket with a gray hood over his head. He had a gray, black beard with beads interwoven in them. His face was craggily and tan and his eye was bright blue that chilled Hikaru to the bone as if it was made of ice. The other thankfully was closed tight under a mess of scars.
"I'm sorry to hear about your boss," he said striking Hikaru back. His voice was deep with a thick accent that Hikaru couldn't quite pin point.
"I…I don't know you," Hikaru replied eyeing the old man. He could've been a sailor who knew Mr. Musashibo. A worker or something. If that was the case he may have known Mr. Musashibo.
"I know you. Though that name you go by is quite interesting," the old man's voice graveled. "Hikaru. 'Light' is it?"
"How do you know my name?" Hikaru asked. The diner seemed a lull, not a one taking a second look at them. But here was a stranger larger than life, just taking a seat as if he owned the place.
The man's eye stared directly at him and wouldn't leave. It pinned Hikaru to his seat, terrified what may happen if he dared try to leave that gaze. He pulled up a massive hand holding a long thin pipe between his the crux of his thumb and forefinger. He took a quick puff from the thin end and exhaled slowly, the smoke lazily flowing like clouds from his mouth and nose. Hikaru glanced behind him on the door spotting the "No Smoking" sign, but no one seemed to care.
"I want you to come with me," the old man said, tapping his thumb on the counter, as he drew his pipe away, his tree signet ring glistening threateningly on his hand.
"You're kidding," Hikaru said, bristling. The one eye blinked, his thick black eyebrow arching. "Why would I go with a stranger?"
"Stranger?" the man laughed showing large white incisors. "Everyone you ever met is a stranger. That's how relationships start. When you come into this world, you are a stranger to your mother, and your mother is a stranger to you."
"That's different—"
"How? Mrs. Musashibo didn't know you but she took you in. My proposition isn't much different."
It was. Hikaru knew it was. This man was clearly crazy. Probably.
"So what? You what do you want me as?"
"A worker perhaps. " The old man took another puff off his pipe. He took his great hand and captured one of Hikaru's in a surprisingly gentle grip. He turned it over so the palm was facing up, running his thumb along it. "Calluses. A great many. I didn't think you would ever get some."
"I do work for the Musashibos, no matter who may be gone now."
"I'm guessing you're turning down my offer."
Hikaru nodded taking his hand away, "There was never an offer. What work do you do? Not that it matters."
The man across from him shrugged his heavy shoulders, "Travel I guess. Some would call me a sort of…Odinic wanderer."
"Then you're a hustler," Hikaru shot back. There was no such thing as just a traveler. "Or a homeless man, but then I guess you did something bad to get that fancy ring on your pinky."
Hikaru may have expected to get a punch for laying out insults or at least get a flash of anger from the old man. Instead there was a deep disappointment in that ice-cold blue eye. Familiarity as well. For a moment, Hikaru thought the gray was disappearing, his worn and aged spots regressing. The old man wasn't old, but clean, staring at him like a relative would as if Hikaru just told him he was leaving the family business.
"Homeless or hustler, why do you look upon me as if I were some vicious demon?"
Hikaru's jaw clenched. He hadn't meant to hurt the man that bad. He just wanted him to go away. It was already a tough week. Almost being arrested, disrespecting the Kusanagi family, getting manhandled by Mrs. Hinoshiza, taking on all these jobs, and most of all the death of Mr. Musashibo.
He didn't answer the man, as if the silence was loud enough to convince him to leave. But the man didn't leave. He stared out at the darkening sky, rain hitting the windows.
"No thunder today," he commented vaguely. "Do you believe in gods Hikaru? Or God?"
"I…don't," replied Hikaru. After another half-moment he corrected himself. "At least I don't think so."
The man worked his jaw, white molars cracking, but he still stared out at the rainy sky, "They are an 'out of sight, out of mind' concept aren't they. No one truly believes in gods unless there is a great need for it. Even then, they don't come. So, I suppose someone like you has no reason to believe in gods."
"Someone like me? How do you mean?"
The man slowly turned his head to face him again, and eerily lightning flashed. Subconsciously, Hikaru counted the time, waiting to hear thunder as thunder always came after lightning. No thunder.
"Are you going to take my offer or not? I guarantee you it will be for the better for everyone."
Hikaru shook his head. He didn't believe this man for one second. He could've been telling the truth, for all Hikaru knew, but he wasn't going to take that risk and fall into trouble.
"That's a shame," the man took a puff of his pipe and exhaled with a whispering sigh. He stood to his full gigantic height, head almost brushing the ceiling. He reached out with his large hand and with strange and comforting gentleness gripped Hikaru's jaw and turned it out the window and up towards the sky.
"My advice then," he whispered, "Watch the skies."
Hikaru didn't hear anything after that. His heart was pounding furiously in his ears. He blinked once, then twice, before he abruptly stood shouting, "Wait! Hold on!"
He raced out after the man but as he barged out the door, the man was nowhere to be seen. Instead, two black birds flitted across his view, flying off, disappearing into the clouds. Hikaru caught his breath enough to remain calm and remember that he had to pay the diner for his drink.
A/N: Added a few more players into the mold. Read and Review. I'd also like to apologize to those reading and following A Yule Christmas, I've been reaching a bit of a hump with that one, but I am actually working over it thankfully, so expect an update soon.