Chapter 23

relations

The night didn't end so simply. After her song Iori was confront by a many new fans. Both young and old, all wanted to share at least a few words with the idol. Gradually it turned to more than that. As she wasn't particularly busy, she didn't have to leave just then. Accepting when asked to dance, an hour or two passed with her being the dance partner of just about every available bachelor, and some who weren't.

At some point, Jordan left from sight.

Being so swarmed by attention, Iori didn't notice this with haste. She hadn't completely forgotten about him, but when she asked if it was okay to stay and he said "yes," any restraint withholding her was now released. Carried away by the situation Iori allowed herself to be a bit reckless, and before she knew it he was gone.

A terrible fear bubbled up from some dark part of her. Excusing herself from the party, she rushed outside the hotel in search of her savior. In the same spot she found Jordan's bike, but it's owner wasn't present. At least he was still somewhere in the casino, but he could have been anywhere. Somewhat revealed, only her greatest fear was alleviated; that he'd left her. Worries such as hers wouldn't be cured so easily.

Ashamed of herself, Iori didn't even know for how long he was gone. What was going through his head, his disappointment in her, none of it could the girl measure. All she knew, all she could think of doing, was to find him as quickly as possible and apologize.

Following her first instinct of being led by her nose, Iori discovered this to be a short pursuit. Sitting at a bar that overlooked the exit to the second floor conference area, she found Jordan with a drink and a hamburger watching whatever sports were playing. Being as late in night as it is, these all must have been replays. If Iori wasn't in such a hurry before, or he'd been slightly less distracted, they would have saw one another a few short moments after she descended the stairs.

"Oh! Iori! Over here-"

"Why did you leave?" she shouts, completely uncaring about the spectacle she's making.

Jordan's body jerks in shock, completely unsuspecting of that outburst. Realizing the direness of the situation and that something was possibly wrong, he pulls money from his wallet and places it on the table. Only a few seconds pass before he joins Iori outside the bar.

"What's wrong?"

"Why did you leave?" she repeats, not making it any clearer for him. As he's not responding, she adds, "Why did you leave me alone?"

"Oh, that," and he smiles painfully. "You weren't really alone. You were surrounded by soldiers."

It's quite clear that wasn't what she meant. Iori's expression of sadness and anger doesn't waver. Jordan can't keep eye contact and is forced to look away.

"I couldn't stay there. I don't belong in that place."

Emotions erupt and words spew out of her mouth, though not the words she originally wished to portray, "Don't say things like that! I was only there because you were with me! Don't say you 'don't belong!' You belong-no, I belong at your side. Any place you are, any place I am, we should be there together!"

This was no conversation to be had in front of a bar. Likewise, they've worn out their welcome in this casino. Now was a good as time as any to call it a night. Jordan motions to the angered little girl to follow.

"I can only do so much," Jordan talks as he walks. "You were the one who carved her place in that room. You did it yourself, under your own power. I was just lucky enough just to hear you sing. That's all I-"

"No!" his explanations only seem to be making her angrier. "You deserve more than this! You shouldn't always be on the outside looking in! I was there because of you! If I'm the center of attention, you should be there with me! I wanted-" to dance with you, was a sentiment she'd never get to finish.

"What don't you get?" his voice now rang with something new, irritation and anger. His face transformed, anger and shame made his expression into something like a snarl. Facial muscles twisted and distorted his face into someone who was capable of terrible things. Not exactly a villain, but certainly someone who could do evil. "I told you what happened to me, but did you understand any of it? If those Marines in there found out who I was or what I've done, they'd tar and feather me!"

"They wouldn't! If they got to know you-"

"They would! They'd rip me to shreds and eat me alive! They don't care what kind of person I am! They won't try to understand, they won't give me a chance! That's what it means to be branded a failure! I know! Every day I see it! So many times I've been discriminated against! So many times I've been beaten into the ground! Do you know what it's like to have all this talent and not be able to use it? I sweep popcorn off the ground! I'm not allowed to look at the projectors in my movie theater! I can't work on the speakers that I hear are messed up! I couldn't even change a light bulb if I asked!

"I've been on job interviews where they won't even listen to what I say. I could tell them how to take apart their equipment and repair it better than ever, and they ask me how many months I spent in the brig. They yell at me for my crimes. They tell me, 'How should I expect you to work for me after what you've done?' Do you think those soldiers who have honor would treat someone who's lost his any different?"

He then said nothing. It was clear he now wanted Iori to speak.

Something in Iori knew he was right, but she didn't want to admit it, "Does that mean you aren't allowed to be with other people? Does that mean you must carry this cross wallowing in self pity?"

"Let me put it this way," there was no pause or hesitation in his voice, as if these are words he's told himself a thousand times, "I could have stayed in that room with you. Nobody would have guessed who I was. Nobody would have known about my past unless I told them. But how would I feel, hiding myself, knowing that if I revealed even the tiniest hint of my true self they would abandon me? I couldn't take it. I can't have the hope that they'll understand and accept me, but I also can't stand being rejected and denigrated all the time. So I leave. I leave before anyone gets too involved. This way nobody's hurt. I'm nothing more than a forgettable specter and they're nobody who could cause me harm. That's the way my life must be lived."

Iori wanted to say, wanted to shout, "You're wrong!" but she couldn't. Soothing words, something that would let him know, "It's alright," wouldn't come to her. To combat his condition, it felt there was absolutely nothing she could do. Completely and utterly powerless, in all it's frustrating glory.

"Thank you for feeling the way you do," Jordan can at least read her intentions, "and that's enough. Just having someone willing enough to stick with me for a little while, even after they know everything, means a lot."

Irritation welling up within her, Iori had to say something, anything, no matter how irrational or out of context it could be taken, "But why, why couldn't you be with me in there?"

What Jordan says next was like taking a pickaxe to the heart, "What scares me the most is you."

Hallow emptiness suddenly filled her, as if something important, essential from deep inside has been ripped out. Nearly did she start crying without explanation, and maybe even reason.

"I think I've grown too attached to you. When I saw that Marine talking to you and taking your picture, I started to realize how far you've come. I was happy, but then I started think about myself. When you were lost before, you had nothing. I let myself get close to you because there was no consequences. Both of us really had nothing to lose, and a lot to gain. But then I realized that you had your fame, and I had my infamy. I left you at that party because I thought, 'what if they realize who I am, and they associate my crimes with her.' All that you accomplished tonight would instantly become meaningless, and I couldn't let that happen. Before I realized it, you were already surrounded by so many people, and I just had to leave."

A weak and painful smile forms across his lips, "I'm not going to abandon you after you've come so far, but we're too close. You need to be able to abandon me the moment I become a burden."

"No!" Iori couldn't let that comment stand.

"Iori!" his cry allows for no rebuke. "Why are you here? What's most important? Your concert. You must remember that above all else. I'm sorry if you feel hurt, but I should have never allowed it to come to what it did tonight. I'll be more careful from now on, so it shouldn't happen again."

Presently they were standing next to his bike, but a melancholic silence seems to stop time itself. After an eternally long moment,

"I think you should return to your hotel."

Knowing this was coming, Iori was still helpless against the crushing depression that follows. Screaming in pain, her heart detests everything that he's said, but she knows the situation is greater than that. It's impossible to deny what he's said tonight, no matter how much she would like to. What she wants and what she needs are at odds. The safe, smart, responsible thing to do is follow his advice. The pros immeasurably outweighs the cons.

"My things," her voice is meek, barely above a whisper, "are still at your apartment."

"Oh," he says as if he hadn't thought of it before, which he might have not, "that's right."

Jordan commences to unhinge his bike and sets up. Rolling to a stop in front of her, he doesn't even look back towards Iori.

"Get on," his tone sounds so cold.

Doing as she's told, she takes the seat while weakly holding his sides, completely unable to hold him tight like she did on her way to the casino. The trip is both short and long; short in distant and infinite in time. Holding on to only his shirt, Iori can only faintly feel the human being that's underneath. The tight embrace they once shared is now a forgotten memory. He said they were "too close." Certainly that was true, but when did it start? The feelings she wouldn't allow herself to express. The questions she wouldn't ask of herself. The answer she didn't want to face. All of that now suffocates her, crushing her with a reality that is both sweet and cruel. So close is he to her, yet she can't lean forward, wrap her arms around him, and feel his warmth.

For as loosely as she was bound on his bike, they arrive at his apartment safely. Iori could take the lead, but she waits for Jordan to take his bike over his shoulder and climb the stairs. Ascending about five paces behind, she glances up and quickly diverts her gaze. So many emotions flourish when she looks at him that it's painful. Confusion and doubt poisons each of her thoughts. What should she do? What's right to do? What does she want to do? Yes, the concert should be most important, but is it really? It was before, but what about now?

The door opens and Jordan tells her, "Come on."

With her head hung low, she doesn't see as he carries his bike onto the balcony. Heading directly for the bedroom, she gathers the items she left behind. Iori's about to head, run, to the exit, but she realizes she's still in Jordan's mother's clothes. Changing, by the time she's back into her sky blue dress she realizes she left the door completely open. Being this absentminded wasn't like her at all. However, there were no fears that Jordan might have seen her in any state of undress. Was it because she wasn't afraid of him seeing her, or no fear that he'd allow himself to be put in such a compromising position? The young girl wasn't exactly sure, but of what she was sure was that he hadn't see her.

Stepping into the living room, she finds the man dropped on his spot on the floor between the crate of beer and his vanquished stack of empty cans. Though there wasn't a beer in his hand.

"Do you have everything?" his voice sounds painfully indifferent.

"Yes."

There's a pause, "You didn't bring your bunny?"

Jordan wasn't looking at her, so how did he know she didn't bring Usa-chan? What's more, how did Iori forget to bring her? And not even notice until now? Usa-chan was as much a member of her family as her parents and her brothers, and for the first time Iori had actually forgotten her? As she's been growing older she made the conscious decision to leave her partner behind, but to forget? What was going through her mind at that moment?

"I didn't bring her," she tells him.

"I see," completely oblivious to the significant importance of Usa-chan's lack of presence represents. "I wouldn't want you to forget anything."

Forget anything? Was there something that she had forgotten? Actually, there was. Many thing she was fighting with herself to say, but one she couldn't allow not to pass. Opening her purse she retrieves a certain item.

"Here, I'm returning this."

Jordan's knife rests in her palm. For the first time in a while, he glances in her direction. Surely he'd only seen her hand, but it's been a while since he's seen her. Something seems a little different after that very short moment.

"You're going to need that if you're going to walk to a cab."

"No," and Iori looks at Jordan's face, now unable to turn away. "I don't need it. I'm returning it."

"Then, just place it on the shelf."

"No," her voice more defiant, "this is yours and I'm returning it. Accept it."

"Just set it-"

"No! Take it from me."

Entire body cringing, Jordan fights to keep his eyes set on the ground, "Do you know what your doing to me?"

"I do! This weapon represents power. When you first gave it to me, you gave me the power over you. Now I'm giving it back."

"Cheeky brat!" and he swipes it from her grasp, his trimmed nails lightly scratching her hand.

Iori stands there, looking at him. Was she trying to invite something? Power had returned to the hand of the large man, yet he still sits on the floor as if in defeat. He isn't going to budge. Did she wish he would? Was Iori herself trying to abstain responsibility? Something, anything, happen so she doesn't have to walk out that door! Her prayers remain unanswered as only the light ticking of the clock accompanies them in this tense apartment.

Clock?

Turning to take a look, she finds an old style French clock hung upon the wall next to the closet door. Sees it's already an hour till midnight.

"It's already this late?" her tone and voice completely shatter this oppressive mood. "Do you honestly expect me to go fetch a cab this late at night? Are you insane?"

As if the spell's been broken, Jordan lifts himself up and checks the time himself, "Oh crap! That would have been bad, huh? You'd have to go down those long dark alleys, there's no way I could make you do that! Listen, the bedroom's always open. You could just wash yourself off and go to bed. You need your rest. We'll have a very long day ahead of us."

"Ha! I think I will! In fact, it's your obligation to allow me to do so!"

They were lying to each other, and to themselves. Neither of them wanted to face separation, but they knew their previous path was leading to some unknown place. That unknown place scared them. This way they could preserve their relationship as it were and continue as they must. The concert will be a monumental success and they could remain the friends they were now.

Of course that was impossible.

Smiling and lying to each other, simultaneously they ignore the growing mood and actually spend a few minutes together without any of the past or uncertain future bogging them down. First Iori took a shower and headed to the bedroom, closing the door behind her, and then Jordan did the same (without the aid of an actual room which door he could close). Iori turns off the lights, completely unaware of her prayers to fall asleep as quickly as possible.

The walls of the bedroom were shaking in rhythmic beats. Somewhere outside music was playing, volume not loud enough to be heard but bass so tremendous is shook buildings a great distance away. Frustration accumulates rapidly and she barges out of the room as if Jordan did something wrong.

"What is with that music? It wasn't like that the other night!"

With all the lights off, the darkness covers the apartment in a scary, uncertain aura. Jordan, who calls this darkness his own, is curled up in bed as comfortably as possible. This was his home.

"The nightclubs must be going. It's not like that in the middle of the week. Only the weekends."

"Then how am I supposed to sleep?"

"How am I supposed to know? That's why I sleep out here."

Unwittingly he said something for which he immediately curses himself. That's the reason he didn't sleep in the bedroom. Sleeping in what should have been the dinning room, in the middle of the apartment, he's too far removed from the bordering outer walls that are shaken by the music. Being underneath the fan as he was, not only was he in the coolest area of the apartment, but the quietest as well. His mother was merely an excuse! This was the best spot in his entire home!

"Don't think you're going to get away with that!" and she crawls into bed with him.

In that moment all the lies shatter. Everything she's been trying to ignore, all the emotions she was trying to hide, all brought to light in this pitch darkness. Iori's raging heartbeat, the flush that had been warming her face, the sweat that had been dampening her palms, the labored breath, suddenly she's aware of all things. Immediately she regrets everything, but at the same time, she embraces it knows there's no turning back.

"What are you doing?" Jordan shouts, but his voice only carries it's normal volume, his attempt at resistance futile.

"I'm sleeping here," Iori was beyond scared, she was terrified, "with you."

Clicking his tongue, "Fine. I'll take the couch."

Not getting far, he's held in place by Iori's weak strength. Clutching tightly to his shirt, Iori doesn't allow escape.

"Don't go, please."

Without as much as a word of protest, he slowly lowers himself back down.

"At the casino," Jordan's voice is serious, Iori's heart aflutter, "I asked you what was important. I thought it was the concert, but that was presumptuous of me. I don't have the right to decide that for you. So what is it really?"

In her condition, Iori was incapable of telling anything other than the absolute truth, "Everything. I want my concert to be a success. I want my friends to be my friends. And I want you with me. I don't want you in the background, I don't want you somewhere far away watching over me. I want you there, by my side."

"That's a big gamble. Try to reach for everything and you might catch nothing."

"I'm tired of caring. I'm tired of hesitating. You said 'might.' Then isn't it also possible I 'might' catch everything?"

"Yes, that's a possibility. The bigger the risk the bigger the reward, right? But your forgetting one very important thing."

Iori didn't believe she was, but she still asks, "What?"

"Tomorrow's the last you'll see of me."

An arrow to her gut, but the truth didn't seem to hurt as much now. In the present he was here within her grasp. The future didn't seem to matter.

"Don't think they'll magically be something after that. No matter how much you hope, how much you wish, there's no way there will be a day after tomorrow. It's the finish line, the ending. No matter what takes place tomorrow, it will still be the end. 'Everything' is impossible, because I know there's still one more thing you want but haven't said, and I think that's the most important to you. You said you want me by your side, but that moment will be so short you could only be disappointed. Then you'll want more, but at that moment I'll be gone. You can't have me after tomorrow. When that wish shatters into dust you'll come to regret everything that's happened these past few days."

"You said it yourself, you're being presumptuous. If I can't have you after tomorrow, I'll have you now. We still have tonight."

Underneath the blankets, Iori can feel Jordan's body getting warmer. At least this about him was honest. The girl herself was practically already sweating. Placing a hand on his back, she can feel all the muscles he's achieved during his military training underneath his shirt. Currently he's fully clothed. Does he normally sleep like this, or did he changed his habits because of his guest?

"Iori," she shivers when her name is called, "I don't mind sharing my bed with you. It might be a bit immoral for a man as old as I sleeping next to a young girl like you, but my whole existence is pretty much debouched at this point. But this is the edge of the cliff. One step further and-" he couldn't bring himself to finish.

Knowing what he meant, knowing so well, Iori didn't even want to hear him say it. With how much she's combating herself, battling with her emotions, that was the one question for which she couldn't answer. One more step, was such a scary concept. Take it and they'll fall. After that moment everything changes. Not only their relationship, but Iori and Jordan themselves. Mostly Iori, because as he's said she's still a young girl. Who would this new Iori be? It was impossible for the girl to say. Uncharted roads lied beyond that path. Inexperience left it completely hidden, but did that mean she couldn't navigate just because it was unknown?

A question without an answer. Thinking wasn't the way to make progress. Iori ceased, clearing her head. From this point, Iori would only listen to her body, and obey it's commands.

. . .

Violently jerking Iori out of her tranquil recovery, an alarm sounds and repeats the same synthesized note over and over again. Startled, the girl rapidly sits up, throwing the blanket off her by the motion. Light hits her eyes mercilessly and she winces in recoil. The widow faces East. Drawn blinds do little against the rising sun and the entire apartment is feathered in a pale illuminance. Everything is laid bare to be seen.

Sudden panic hits Iori and her face nearly melts from the blood rushing to her head. What happened, what they did after sharing the same bed, nothing came to memory. She couldn't remember any of it!

Turning to the man sleeping next to her side, the sight alone tells her everything she needed to know. Jordan's on his side, a pillow wedged between his head and shoulder, peacefully asleep despite the obnoxious alarm and the bright morning. He slept on his side, his back to his companion. The same as Iori, he was still fully clothed and not the slightest bit out of place. After all her worrying, all her inner turmoil, after condemning herself to the wishes of her body, she fell asleep.

Iori could only giggle to herself. What a way to make of that situation! In a sense it could have been considered pathetic, but the young girl didn't see it that way. It wasn't pathetic because it was her answer. The question that boggled her mind, that nearly tore her apart inside, the answer was thus and everything was resolved.

How to describe the relationship between Iori Minase and Jordan Huntsman? Surely everything was brought to conclusion last night. Last night they both stood at the edge of the cliff, but they couldn't take the leap. That's it. More than friends, less than lovers. Together they stood at the edge of the cliff, but neither desired the thrill of the fall. No regrets were there to be had. Surely she could have pushed herself and they both could have fallen together, but who's to say they had to? Was that thrill really so important?

After all, doesn't the edge itself have the very best view?

Now, about this alarm...

I'm not sure there's much to say after a chapter like that. From what I pictured in my head, to what made it in text, well, it turned out much steamier than I imagined. For a while I wasn't sure I could keep that from happening. I think Stephen King put it best (and I paraphrase), 'I'm not the God of my stories. I'm merely the conduit of how they're told.' Though what I could have done was cut this chapter a little shorter and left you at a cliffhanger, but my better judgement wouldn't let me.

On a side note, I got a warning that I had too many chapters sitting in Doc Manager (Upload). The max you can have is 15 and old chapter are automatically deleted after two months. That means in the past two months, I've written 16 chapters. That's probably not a record or anything, but I think it's pretty darn impressive considering I can only write when I find time away from work and my huge collection of video games. Just thought I'd toot my own horn a little bit.

~Kyle Castorena