Disclaimer: I don't own FoR. The lyrics I used belongs to The Hush Sound. It's from their song, City Traffic Puzzle.
I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are mine.
Thanks to those who reviewed the previous chapter. I'm sorry for taking a very, very long time in updating. I combined nearly two chapters here to make it up to all of you. So it's gonna be quite long.
Stalker
Chapter 7: Closer and Closer
"Mi-chan?"
Mikagami looked up from his laptop towards the direction of the voice. Fuuko was standing near his bedroom doorway, wearing a surprised expression on her face.
"You're early." The ex-Fuujin master commented as she strode inside the bedroom. She threw her backpack at the crimson-colored beanbag near the foot of the bed. "If I'm not mistaken, your last class for this day is until 4 pm."
"Sensei's absent." Mikagami grumbled. He turned his attention back to his half-finished essay. "You're early, too. I thought you had a club meeting."
"Uh, yes I have." Fuuko opened the closet door; half of the clothes occupying it were hers while the other half belongs to Tokiya. She had officially moved into his bedroom after the stalker scare three nights ago. So far after that incident, she has yet to receive anything from her unwanted admirer. It seems like her stalker is on a hiatus or something.
"If you have a club meeting, then why are you here?" Tokiya queried not taking his eyes off the laptop's screen.
"You don't want me here Mikagami?"
The ex-Hyoumonken master frowned. "I didn't mean that."
Fuuko laughed. "I don't want to attend the meeting so I'm going to feign a headache attack." Her head disappeared inside the closet, muffling her voice. "I'm not in the mood for it today."
"As far as I know, you don't have headache attacks."
"I don't?" Fuuko looked contemplative for a moment. "A dysmenorrhea attack then." She quipped, holding a white shorts in her hand before disappearing into the adjacent bathroom.
Mikagami just shook his head in disbelief. "Just don't ask me to cover for you."
"Oh I won't." Fuuko's voice flew out from the half-closed bathroom door. "I know lying is a mortal sin for you."
He just grunted in response. With fingers flying swiftly across the keyboard, he continued typing his essay. There was a movement in the corner of his eye and his head shifted towards it automatically and he saw Fuuko leaning against the bathroom's doorway, watching him.
"You looked like the perfect epitome of a hard-working nerd." The former wind master remarked. "Laptop, eyeglasses, your fingers on the keyboard, the serious expression on your face…" She trailed off, sighing wistful. Her eyes brightened suddenly and she ran towards her backpack to grab her camera.
Mikagami's eyes widened slightly. "Don't you dare Kirisawa." He said in a threatening tone.
"Oh come on Mi-chan!" Fuuko pleaded. "I still haven't got any entry for the upcoming photography contest. Have a heart."
"I don't have a heart."
"I know," Fuuko sniggered. "Coz, I have it. You gave it to me remember?"
Mikagami closed his eyes, slipping his glasses off. "You're weird." He muttered massaging the bridge of his nose. His eyes were already strained from gazing at the computer screen for hours and the nerves in his brain were already sending signals of an impending headache. Damn this essay to hell and back.
Fuuko rolled her eyes as she watched Mikagami. She knows from experience that once he started pinching the bridge of that snooty nose of his, he's coming down with a headache.
Pitying him, she set her camera down on the bed and strode towards the back of his chair. She placed both of her hands on his temples and started massaging it gently. "Relax for a moment will you?" She murmured. "It's not gonna cost you much if you take a break from what you're doing."
He let out a tired groan in response.
She just continued with her massaging, relaxing the overworked nerves in his head. Her fingers slid down his nape and shoulders kneading the stiff muscles there.
"That feels good." Mikagami mumbled as Fuuko's fingers tangled across his hair to give it a soft but firm pull. He could almost feel his body slowly relaxing. Who would've thought that the same hands capable of punching Domon into oblivion can also cause such a pleasant sensation? He sighed contentedly. His girlfriend's got great hands.
"Take your shirt off Mi-chan." Fuuko said as her hands slid down his back again.
He complied, baring that perfectly toned body.
The wind child let out a wolf whistle. "You have a great body Mikagami." Fuuko murmured teasingly. "When did I get soo lucky?" She gushed with a roll of her ocean blue orbs.
"I know." The former water wielder answered in a smug tone. He reached out for her hand and kissed it. "You're a devil when it comes to massaging Fuuko." Tokiya complimented with a small smile. He was feeling a million times better now.
"Why thank you!" Fuuko beamed at the compliment. She leaned closer to his ears and whispered. "And do you know what it's gonna cost you?" She asked in a sing-song voice.
The satisfied smile on his lips disappeared.
--
The small room was lit by a red safelight.
A figure was dipping a photographic paper in the photographic fixer, before hanging the print for it to dry.
The figure smiled in satisfaction, his eyes brightening with excitement as he stared at the newly-developed photos. His hands gathered some photographs that he developed the night before--the newest addition to his growing collection.
Carefully, he opened the door of the darkroom and stepped outside. His bedroom was just adjacent to it, a convenient set up for him. He glanced at the picture in his hand as the other turned the knob of his bedroom door open.
She looked thoughtful, the wind playing with her loose purple tresses softly. He hated the fact that she was not smiling in the picture but still she looked lovely. She was sitting on one of the stone benches in their university quad, reading a book, her iPod's earphones tucked in her ears.
He remembered that moment exactly, how she suddenly raised her head as if someone called her. He remembered that small, familiar frown etched on her enchanting face…
She looked so… comely that he wasn't able to stop himself from taking her picture.
Music started playing from the next door apartment.
Escape into the eerie night
In the dark I'm out of sight
Shadows on the alley wall
Are dancing like a lovers brawl
His ears perked up. The lyrics made him snigger with no particular reason at all. A few seconds later he was singing along with it as his eyes surveyed the wall near his bed, half-filled with pictures. He was so happy--indescribably happy.
I don't want to love you if love leaves me this cold
I don't want to love you if love is this alone
More than a hundred photographs of Kirisawa Fuuko covered that part of the dreary burnt sienna-colored wallpaper. And he was about to add more to it. Pretty soon her face will cover every single, available space in wall. He sighed dreamily. His favorite photograph of her was already framed--personally done by him of course, and was carefully propped on the wall opposite of his bed.
I don't want to love you if love leaves me this cold
I don't want to love you if love is this alone
He was excited, to display such an exquisite portrait in the upcoming photography contest as his entry.
It would be his surprise to her.
--
Brood--it was something he was good at, something that didn't need any effort at all.
Something that comes naturally to him.
And right now that is what he was doing as he stared outside the open window of his bedroom, one hand resting on the sill while the other held a white mug filled with hazelnut-flavored coffee--with just his jeans on.
The sweet aroma wafted through the air, tickling his nose as the gentle afternoon breeze played with the wisps of his unbound hair. Everything was relaxing.
Except for that irritating click of the camera as Fuuko took photographs of him from that position.
That good massage caused him to be subjected to this. The wind brat is a first-rate opportunist.
"I love your abs Mikagami." Fuuko sighed dreamily as she lowered her camera. "I wish I could touch them, skim my fingers over them, trace them, feel them…" The expression on his face made her double over with laughter. Why did he have to look like she was about to molest him?
His eyes bored through hers intently making her feel queasy. "Then touch them, skim your fingers over them, trace them, feel them…" His sentence trailed off as he brought the cup of sweet-smelling liquid to his lips for a sip, not taking his pale blue eyes off her dark blue ones. "After that it's my turn. And I assure you, I'm going to do more than skim my fingers over and I'm not only talking about your abs."
There was something in his tone and gaze the made her body tingle all-over. Fuuko gulped. "Ok, point taken."
"Good."
"To quote Natsuo," Fuuko said as she flipped her purple hair over her shoulder and aimed her camera at him again, signaling him to maintain his current stance. "You are a pain in my sexy ass."
"I'm going to agree with the sexy ass part." Mikagami said nonchalantly.
Fuuko blew him a kiss.
He was never the one to check out and ogle at the opposite sex's certain body parts. And frankly, such things were not important for him. Besides, the curvy body was not on the list of reasons why he fell in love with Fuuko in the first place.
But then again, when you are with someone who's blessed with a body as undeniably sexy as hers, you'll definitely learn to appreciate it.
"Are you finished?" He asked, silently hoping that the answer would be yes. "I really don't appreciate standing beside the window half-naked where some people could actually see me."
"Jeez! Relax will you?" Fuuko waved his complaint away. "This is not gonna take an hour. The more you let me have my way, the earlier we finish."
He grunted.
She brushed her unbound hair back. "Look, I don't want to waste this day without taking any photographs of something. Natsuo's bugging me for my pictures. So be a good boy for once, please." She said exasperatedly.
He narrowed his eyes and muttered a swearword under his breath in annoyance.
"That's it Mi-chan!" Fuuko cajoled him. "Scowl some more."
"You're annoying." He growled. "Just get it on with." His fingers tapped the sill in time with the music coming from the apartment next to theirs. Honestly, are the people from next-door deaf? Do they really have to play their music that loud?
Rains on in the city traffic puzzle
Shifting pieces just like my stomach
Were both so upset
Fuuko was singing along with the music as she fiddled with her camera and continued taking some photographs of him.
I don't want to love you if love leaves me this cold
I don't want to love you if love is this alone
She winked at him. "Last one Mi-chan!"
I don't want to love you if love leaves me this cold
I don't want to love you if love is this alone
--
Natsuo stormed past the hallway of Tokyo University. He spent the last 20 minutes, scouring Todai for a certain purple-haired girl. And based from the sour expression on his handsome, erhm, beautiful face… his search was futile.
Kirisawa, screw you. Natsuo cursed inwardly. I swear I'm going to bite a chunk out of your head your pretty, little, purple-topped head. His gut instinct has been telling him that Fuuko probably went home already. He tried calling her mobile phone but no one's answering.
Damn it! Natsuo tapped his cheeks softly. Wrinkles, wrinkles. He tried to calm himself and pasted a smile on his lips as he entered the photography club's meeting room. No use in scaring the neophytes now, right?
He took his cell phone out and dialed Fuuko's number... again.
After three rings someone answered the phone.
Finally! Natsuo thought. "Bitch!" He gritted out. "Where in the fucking hell are you? I was calling your fucking phone for about 10 times now." He lowered his voice a little, so that no one would hear him shower Fuuko's ears with not-so-beautiful words. "Damn it! I swear I'm going to—"
"Natsuo-san?" A voice definitely not belonging to Fuuko answered.
"Mikagami-sempai?" Natsuo squeaked recognizing the speaker. Shit! He bit his lower lip. Did I just use profane words on Mikagami Tokiya? Oh no! "I'm sorry sempai. I didn't know it was you." He apologized quickly.
"It's ok." Mikagami said in deep voice.
Oh Kami, this guy's got a great voice. A great bedroom voice. Natsuo thought impishly. Ok enough about that. He scolded himself. "Sempai, is Fuuko there?"
"She's here. She's in the bathroom at this moment."
Natsuo exhaled in relief. "Can you please tell her to come back here at the university? We have an important club meeting and she needs to attend it."
"I'll just pass the message to her."
"Thank you Mikagami-sempai." Natsuo ended the call. The meeting has yet to begun and he was already having a headache.
"Natsuo-san." A freshman tapped his shoulder.
"Yes?" Natsuo asked as he settled himself on one of the chairs.
"Hoshi-sempai asked me to tell you that he wouldn't be able to make it to today's meeting."
Natsuo pressed his eyes closed. More bad news. And he needed Hoshi's prints for the upcoming contest today. "Any particular reason why he wouldn't be able to make it?" He tried to keep his tone civil. Almost all the brilliant photographers of their club were out for the day. Their president was with a fever, Fuuko was already home (sneaky bitch) and now Hoshi…
"He's not feeling well." The student explained. "He said he'll just drop the prints that you want in your apartment if he's feeling ok later. He said he's sorry for the trouble."
Natsuo nodded his thanks. It was not a great idea to push the meeting for today. "Great!" He muttered. "Maybe I should cancel this goddamned meeting." He groaned thumping his head on the table in exasperation.
--
Mikagami threw Fuuko's mobile phone on the bed. "Why can't you just explain to him yourself why you're not attending the meeting?"
Fuuko stepped out of the bathroom with a Cheshire cat-like grin. "Because knowing Natsuo he will just bombard me with questions and force me to come there regardless of what I'm feeling." She explained, combing a hand on her long tresses.
"Indolent."
The supposedly insult just widen the grin on Fuuko's face. "Natsuo's a putty in your hands Mikagami-san." She batted her eyelashes at him.
He threw a pillow at her face in retaliation.
Fuuko bubbled with laughter. "So how did Kamatari-san sounded?"
"Based on the profanities he used, I would say he's downright pissed." Mikagami answered as he grabbed his forgotten t-shirt lying on the study table.
"Where are you going?" Fuuko asked as her eyes followed him and watched as he slipped his shirt on.
"I'm going to do some grocery shopping since we're running out of supplies." Mikagami replied, grabbing his mobile phone and sliding it in the back pocket of his jeans.
"I'll go with you."
--
His head reared up abruptly. He heard a voice coming from the sidewalk--a very familiar voice.
He strategically positioned himself near his window. His room had a great view of the street since he's on the topmost part of the apartment. He could easily see people as they come and go.
Peering out, he saw a couple approaching. There was no mistake; the purple hair was a dead giveaway.
She was garb in a white shorts, light pink tank top and flip-flops--casual and sexy. Mikagami was beside her in jeans and black t-shirt with a sullen expression on his face.
He shifted his head and his eyes rested on the portrait propped on his bedroom wall. He walked towards it and stroked it, almost reverently; his fingers skimming the frame's surface as if it was the delicate face of the woman who holds his heart.
It was one of the photographs from his collection--a blow up version. He was so proud of it. It was his favorite. It was the one that he decided to enter in their club's contest.
The image was colored--hues of blue, black and white playing across her sleeping form. His only light had been the moon that managed to make its way inside her bedroom. He had taken that shot outside her window, up on the same tree where Natsuo saw him a few nights ago. She was sleeping on her side, one arm cuddling her head. The white blanket was tangled around her body, in just the right way that it covered her… more womanly parts.
She looked so exotic, sleeping half-naked under the soft beams of the moon.
Lady luck must be on his side that night…
For there was never a photograph of Kirisawa Fuuko as perfect as this.
She was his goddess…
And this portrait is the immortalization of her beauty.
He can't wait to show it to her.
But for now she would have to settle with the little gift that he'll give her. It would probably freak her out; will probably freak everyone around her out. He stared at photographs on his table. Ooh, he was going to see that reaction on Mikagami's face again, the one that promises hell to the one harassing his girlfriend.
Tough luck ice prince. You wouldn't be able to find me. Nor make me experience hell.
He purposely withdrew from his stalking activities for the past three days after what happened in Fuuko and Mikagami's apartment, giving them enough time to let their guards down before striking again.
He smiled.
It was time to make his presence known once more.
--
"I told you I was sorry." Fuuko repeated for the umpteenth time.
It was Tuesday. Natsuo and Fuuko are at the noisy and crowded cafeteria taking their lunch.
Natsuo glared. "Oh spare me the excuses." Using his fork, he made jabbing actions on the air to emphasize his point. "You deliberately left me out there yesterday!" He said dramatically.
Yanagi sat beside Fuuko as she settled her tray on the table. "Deliberately left you out where?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.
"The club meeting." Natsuo wailed. "Your good friend here just went home suddenly without another word to me. Without telling me!"
Fuuko rolled her eyes. "I said I'm sorry. Stop acting like a drama queen. I'm tempted to stab you with my fork."
Yanagi giggled. "You're not feeling well yesterday Fuuko-chan?"
"Sort of."
Natsuo huffed. "Miharu saw you and Mikagami-sempai at the grocery store last night!"
"She did?
"Hmph!"
"I'm sorry ok?" Fuuko apologized again. "I already told you that I don't want to attend the meeting and you kept forcing me." The former wind master reminded him. "And I also told you that yesterday's not a good time since our president is sick."
"Shut it!" Natsuo scowled.
"Mikagami-sempai!" Yanagi called out as the silver-haired guy approached their table.
"Yanagi-san. Natsuo-san." He nodded in greeting. He placed a hand on Fuuko's shoulder.
Natsuo's sour expression changed the moment the handsome 3rd year student came up to them. "Good afternoon Mikagami-sempai. Lunch?" He offered sweetly.
Mikagami declined politely. "No, thank you." He turned towards Fuuko. "Hey," he whispered, discreetly planting a soft kiss on her cheek. "I'm not going to be able to wait for you today Fuuko, I'm sorry. I don't know if Takada-sensei will dismiss us early or late."
Natsuo rolled her eyes at Yanagi as they watched the hushed conversation between the two.
"No prob. I'll just head straight home ok? Just send me a message later or call me." Fuuko smiled at him. "You sure you're not going to grab some lunch first?"
"I'm due for a lecture." He said giving her shoulders a comforting squeeze. "I'll see you at home." He turned and walked away.
"I wish to the gods above that he was my boyfriend!" Natsuo sighed dreamily.
"Dream on." Fuuko muttered.
--
That's strange. Fuuko frowned as she pushed the door of their two-storey apartment open. Tokiya called her earlier and told her that he will be coming home early, so why are the lights on their apartment still turned off?
"Mi-chan?" She called out, closing the door. "Mi-chan? Are you here?" She dropped her backpack on the floor before groping the wall for the switch.
Before she could flick the switch on, there was a movement in the darkness and Fuuko found herself being crushed into someone's chest as lips descended into hers, fiercely.
She froze--the suddenness of the attack made her mind go blank for a while. She tried pushing her assailant but he held her in a vice-like grip, his mouth continuing the unwanted ministration on her lips.
Dimly she felt him bit her lower lip—enough to draw blood. Something inside her suddenly snapped. In an instant, she realized who he was. This was the guy that was messing her peaceful life, the bastard that was sending her those letters, flowers and gifts.
The asshole that was bothering her for months--her stalker.
Her eyes narrowed and there was a sudden rush of adrenaline inside her body. You're definitely messing with the wrong bitch. She thought furiously, remembering that this was the one who installed an unwanted kind of fear inside her.
He's going to pay for it… dearly.
In one swift move, she kicked her assailant's shin. The attack caught her stalker off guard and the arms around her loosened. It was enough to give her the chance to punch him in the stomach with all the strength she could muster.
"Bastard." She wiped the trail of blood from her lips where he had bit her. Her hand shot out and caught the stalker's jaw squarely. The force was enough to send him sprawling on the living room, knocking the coffee table in the process.
The stalker had the nerve to let out a low laugh despite his condition. Fuuko observed that he was quite a strong guy, for he was able to recover from her attack fast. That or she was probably losing her touch with hand-to-hand combat.
It was dark, but her eyes can make out his silhouette. She estimated that he was 3 inches smaller than Mikagami. Her hands curled into tight fists beside her. The door was behind her, if this asshole wants to get out of the apartment, he'll have to pass through her first.
"I never knew you could fight so well Fuuko-san." He said in a raspy voice. Fuuko strained her ears, hoping that she would somehow be able to recognize the voice. "I didn't do my homework well." He continued in a gruff tone.
"Too bad." Fuuko said in an ice-cold tone. "You're not going to get out of here bastard." She cracked her knuckles. It's been a long time since she had beaten someone into a pulp.
"We'll see my love." The voice was mocking. "We'll see."
"Don't call me that, you fucking asshole!" Fuuko growled as she delivered a powerful kick on the direction of the voice. There was a crash as the guy tumbled backwards on something that sounded like a chair or another table. In a swift movement she darted towards the door to switch the lights of the living room on. She needs to see him. To know his face.
The stalker scrambled up. Shit! He can't let her see his face. It was not the right time. It was pure luck, as his hand caught the leg of a chair and he threw it at Fuuko's direction.
The former Fuujin wielder was inches on flipping the light's switch on, when the chair caught her squarely on the back. "Shimatta!" She cursed as she stumbled down from the unexpected weight and pain.
That gave the stalker enough time to run towards her and hoist her up roughly. He couldn't believe it. How dare Fuuko hit him? HIM? His body was hurting like crazy from her attacks. She was a damn good fighter. He underestimated her.
Rage as red and hot as fire took over him. He banged her body at the wall earning a loud yelp of pain from her. His lips curled in a twisted and cruel smile and was surprised when Fuuko backhanded him suddenly, followed by a kick that slammed into his face nearly knocking him unconscious.
Fuuko was about to execute another powerful kick when her stalker caught her foot and pulled her towards him. He smacked his fist into her stomach cutting of her air.
"I'm sorry." He murmured in a frighteningly soft voice. "It's still not the time for you to know who I am." He stroked her hair in a sickeningly tender manner as Fuuko slid down on the floor, gasping.
"We'll see each other soon." It was a promise. With that he ran towards the door.
Fuuko gritted her teeth, trying to win against the pain. "Oh no, you don't bastard." Breathing heavily, she mustered all her remaining strength to run after him.
Not a single soul was outside the street for a night walk. The street lamps were already turned on but it was still not enough to make her recognize the person she was chasing. The bastard had a ski mask and had pulled it over his face. Fuuko winced in pain as she urged her legs to go faster. He was about to cross the deserted street.
Shit! She thought desperately. I'm not gonna catch up to him.
Her stalker had already reached the other side of the street. Fuuko was about to follow when a blare of a car horn and screeching of tires stopped her from doing so.
She was so focused on catching up with that pathetic excuse of a human being that she didn't notice the car coming towards her. She was just inches from getting hit by the car's front bumper.
She blinked and stared at the car's headlights. She lost the chance of catching her stalker, nearly lost her life and as the adrenaline rush stopped she's starting to get lost too.
Exhaustion started to took over her. She couldn't see the figure she was chasing anymore. Her hand was shaking when she rested it against the hood of the car, trying to catch her breath.
She heard the car's door opened as the driver got down.
"Fuuko? Damn it, Fuuko? What the hell happened?" Tokiya asked in a worried tone, his arms enveloping her taut form. "Come on Fuu." He urged. "Answer me."
He was fast. Mikagami thought. Thank heavens he was fast. If he hadn't stepped on the brakes he would've surely hit Fuuko.
She stared at his familiar ice blue pools. "Mi-chan?" She whispered hoarsely, resting her head on his chest instinctively. "I didn't catch him." When she lifted her head to meet his perplexed gaze again, anger was blazing out of her normally mirthful eyes. "I didn't catch the bastard. Fuck!"
-To Be Continued-
Chapter 7 finished. Ugh. Crap. Boring. More stalker creepiness. More OOC. So shoot me. I hope this is long enough. Because honestly it is long!
Todai is another name for Tokyo University if I'm not mistaken. And yes even if they are together they still call each other with their last names. It's not really unusual.
I get to read the first chapters of this story and good grief! I suck! I'm sorry for that. Well I'm an amateur what more can I say? But I'll try to edit them--if I have time.
So read and review please. Inspire me ok? Thanks in advance.