Disclaimer: I do not own Flame of Recca and its characters. It is Anzai Nobuyuki's.
I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are mine.
This baby turned 5 last May 27 or 28. I wasn't able to update sooner because my PC crashed and all the files in my hard drive disappeared. No, I never recovered them—so all my ToFuu drafts went down the drain. I have to start from scratch again. Also the monster called writer's block glomped me. If I were writing Chapter 8 the old-fashion way, all the trash cans in our house (and our neighbor's house) will be filled with crumpled paper.
Anyway, to those who read and reviewed Chapter 7, thank you for your time and effort. I only have hugs, kisses and this chapter to give to you. The same goes to those who added Stalker in their alert list and favorite story list.
To KIAC, future RMT, thanks for the infos and for suggesting stuffs and scenes for this story. I know you hate Mi-chan's guts and you persistently insist that he is gay, BUT HE IS NOT! Grrr! You know how much I love him that's why you keep pissing me off. Haha!
Warning: OOC possible. I have my reasons of course.
Stalker
Chapter 8: The Aftermath
He trudged inside his dark apartment, wincing in pain. Letting out a small groan, he leant back on the door of his room after he closed it, breathing harshly.
The light coming from the street lamp outside illuminated his face. It was cold, hard and angry at the realization that despite all the time he spent learning everything about the purple-haired girl, there are still some things that he's not aware of—like her fighting skills.
It really surprised him that a slender girl like her is capable of bringing a man twice her size down. If he wasn't really lucky, she would've found out who he is.
Trying to ignore the pain on his side that was robbing him of his breath (he probably got it when he crashed on something back at the apartment); he approached his bed and sat down on it as slowly and carefully as he could.
It was an utterly impulsive decision to enter Mikagami and Fuuko's apartment. He was just going to leave his latest gift for Fuuko at the doorstep, when the tempting notion of going inside the unoccupied abode presented itself to him.
And of course, he wasn't able to refuse it.
Knowing that the front door is locked, he circled the apartment cautiously and searched for another way to enter it. Then he remembered the tree near the window of Fuuko's room.
A smile crept up on his face. Desperate times call for desperate measures.
He climbed the tree and tried if the window was unlocked—and it WAS. He was such a lucky guy. But then again if it wasn't, he would've turned to a more drastic measure...
… like smashing the window's glass.
Excitement ran up and down his body like electrical currents when he realized that he's finally inside Fuuko's bedroom. He literally had to stop himself from shouting with joy. This was Kirisawa Fuuko's room. He was inside it. INSIDE. IT.
His eyes roamed around, memorizing everything. From the light sea green-colored walls, the neat study table, the wrinkle-free bed…
He frowned a bit at that. Everything was organized. Spic-and-span. He didn't expect that. He knows Fuuko is a messy kind of person. Her room was supposedly more on the untidy side, with books and clothes strewn everywhere. The room where he's currently standing right now looks so bare. Like, it was not the wind child's room at all.
He approached the bed and grabbed the pillow resting on it. Pulling it closer to him, he inhaled the sweet scent that was still clinging on it.
Kami, her smell is enough to drive him insane.
He wanted to linger inside the room longer but he decided to use the opportunity to explore the whole apartment—just to familiarize himself.
After satisfying his curiosity and realizing that the sun had already set, he decided to leave his gift in Fuuko's room instead of the doorstep as he originally planned.
He was about to exit the apartment using the front door, intending to leave it unlocked so it would shake some nerves up when it opened and Fuuko entered, calling out Mikagami's name.
What happened after that was purely accidental. He didn't mean to let Fuuko see even just a silhouette of him. But he just couldn't stop himself.
He wanted to taste her lips for so long.
It was a disastrous move. He didn't know Fuuko can handle herself so well.
But now that he was aware of it, there won't be any surprises from her next time.
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Mikagami raked a hand through his unbound hair when he reached the top of the stairs. He let out a small sigh. Trying to calm an aggravated and steaming Kirisawa Fuuko and cleaning the mess in their living room was enough to drain one's energy—though the former holds more credit for it.
Fuuko did calm down—after a long while, that is. And she was able to relate to him what occurred between her and her stalker without bursting into a stream of curses and fiery tirades while they were busy sweeping and picking up the remnants of their former furniture.
Though after hearing what happened, it took all his effort to hold his close-to-exploding temper down and maintain his usual calm and cool self. He suggested to Fuuko that she should go upstairs first to take a warm bath to relax her taut nerves and soothe her aching muscles.
He was left in the living room where he was free to vent out his anger by nearly denting the wall. Now the knuckles of his right hand were stinging a bit, but thankfully, he's in a much calmer mood.
Shaking his head at the consequence of his impulsive action (he was pissed, damn it!), he was about to pass by his girlfriend's former room when he noticed that the door—that was supposedly locked—was slightly open.
There was an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach as he stared at it for a moment before he pushed it open. His pale blue eyes scrutinized the expanse of Fuuko's room slowly.
He entered and flicked the light's switch on just as a soft night breeze made its way inside the room. That stilled him for a moment. It wasn't a cold night, but he felt an unwanted chill creeping up his spine as his eyes rested upon the open window.
A cursed escaped his lips as he moved to approach it. For a brief moment, the tree outside held his attention before his gaze went down to the couch beneath the window.
His brows furrowed. There was a dusty shoe print on it.
With a raised eyebrow, his eyes travelled from the couch, to the tree outside, then to the open window. The window was big enough to accommodate someone with a physique similar to Hanabishi or him. And he recalled that Fuuko estimated her stalker to be three inches smaller than him—with the same built.
He has a lot of guts to enter this apartment. The ex-Hyoumonken master thought darkly. There's no question on how Fuuko's stalker managed to enter the apartment.
Mikagami slid the window close and locked it. Turning around, he was about to leave the room when something on the bed caught his eyes.
A brown envelope.
Frowning, he picked it up, opened it and peered at the contents.
"Shimatta."
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Who is he? Fuuko wondered as she took a deep breath, the warm water from the shower head cascading down on her. Some people have weird ways of showing their affections. She groaned inwardly as she closed her eyes.
She never wanted to be the subject of some twisted obsession. She definitely didn't appreciate this kind of admiration. She had enough of it from one Ura Uruha member years ago. And boy, that was creepy and twisted at the same time.
Her stalker made a comeback after a not-so-long hiatus. She thought she wouldn't feel his annoying presence again after that close call with Natsuo a few nights ago. But drat, she was wrong.
Though she concluded that what he's doing was more because he wanted to grab her attention than scare her.
"Well bastard, you grabbed not just my attention but Mi-chan's as well." She muttered, opening her eyes. "He has a nastier temper than I have."
The water continued raining down on her and she stared at it, mesmerized. She could feel her strained nerves and muscles relaxing bit by bit. Water, always had this effect on her. She smiled, remembering the silver-haired guy who used to wield the said element. At least she's feeling much better now.
Steam rose up around her as she ran her fingers through her soaked hair. For now there are only two important questions that needed some answers.
How the stalker entered the apartment and…
Why was he here?
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The former Ensui wielder let out an exasperated sigh for the umpteenth time as he stared at the bathroom door, willing for it to open.
What's taking her so long? He wondered as he folded his arms across his chest.
Taking in a deep breath, he continued waiting for his girlfriend to come out of the bathroom so he could finally use it. The package he saw in Fuuko's room earlier was safely inside the study table's drawer. He was still contemplating on whether or not he'll tell her about it.
He was in such a deep thought when Fuuko finally emerged from the bathroom drying her long hair with a towel, clad in her favorite pink sleep shorts and white cami tank.
"I thought you drowned in there." He commented the moment his girlfriend approached him.
She stuck her tongue out at him. "Gomen. You can use it now."
Mikagami stood up and flicked her forehead lightly. "How are you feeling?"
The wind child pouted while rubbing her forehead. "Well, I feel much better. Before you flicked my forehead, that is."
"You're such a baby."
Fuuko punched his arm in retaliation.
"Ouch." Mikagami muttered without emotion before taking a step towards the bathroom.
"Hey," Fuuko tugged at his arm, stopping him. "I'm starving Mi-chan." She said sheepishly after she felt her stomach rumble. She was deliberately trying not to bring the stalker subject up. They would have time for it later.
Tokiya looked contemplative for a moment. "Then maybe you should call Derishashu for delivery." He suggested, as he watched her eyes widened with glee. Derishashu is a small restaurant near their university and is a favorite of hers. He decided that after everything that happened earlier, she deserves a little treat just to lift her spirits up. Besides he's not in the mood to cook.
"Call them up and order whatever you want." He said, bending his head a little to kiss her lips. "I'll just take a bath first."
"I take it that you're not in the mood to cook, right?" She asked as if reading his mind.
He smirked. "Hai."
Fuuko wrapped her arms around his neck. "Your treat?"
"Of course."
She squealed in delight. "Arigatou." She murmured before kissing him fully on the lips.
"Mmm… it's nothing." Mikagami replied between kisses.
The former Fuujin wielder pulled back a little to look at him. "Thank you." She repeated. "I know you want to lift my spirits up."
Mikagami stroked her hair and kissed her temple. "Anything to make you happy, kanojo."
"Too bad people don't know how fuckingly sappy you can be when we're alone." Fuuko guffawed, winking at him.
"Just shut it and call for food delivery. You're not the only one starving."
"And if I don't want to?"
"Be a good girl now and call." He gave her a playfully push. "I'll give you a lollipop as a treat."
"A lollipop?" Fuuko snorted in disbelief. "What am I? A kid?"
"Exactly. Now run a long little girl and call for food."
"Oh alright." The purple-haired girl tilted her head on the side. "And I want that lollipop Mikagami." She said as she headed towards the phone on the bedside table.
"You'll have it."
"Double meaning implied?" She asked mischievously.
Mikagami just shrugged and smirked at her before stepping inside the bathroom.
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"So where's my lolly?" Fuuko asked as she reached out to poke her boyfriend's cheek lightly.
Mikagami smiled mischievously at her. They had just finished eating their late dinner and Fuuko was pestering him about her treat. He shoved a hand in the pocket of his shorts. "Here." He said, handing her a strawberry-flavored lollipop.
The purple-haired girl looked surprised. "Where did you get this?"
That brought a frown on the ex-Hyoumonken master's face. "We bought some of it—a pack actually—when we shopped for some supplies last night. You insisted on buying it." He reminded her. "Don't you remember?"
Fuuko slapped a hand on her forehead. "Oh yeah!"
"Sign of aging?" Mikagami asked amusedly, picking up the bento boxes which are lying on the floor. They had eaten their late dinner inside the room, at Fuuko's insistence, since they haven't done something like it so far and he was so into giving in to her whims because he was feeling guilty for not coming home early like he said he would and for nearly ramming her with his car.
He already apologized to her about it, back when they were cleaning the living room. And she just waved it off as an accident and firmly stated that it wasn't his fault. If there was anyone to be blamed, it should be her stalker-slash-assailant.
"Kareshi, do I need to remind you that YOU are OLDER than me?" Fuuko asked sweetly, as she unwrapped the lollipop before shoving it into her mouth.
Mikagami choose to ignore her comment. "I'll just bring these to the kitchen." He motioned at the bento boxes in his hand.
"Need help?"
"Nah." He fixed his gaze at her. "I'm not that old."
He heard Fuuko's exuberant laugh as he exited the room.
When he came back, the former Fuujin wielder was already lying on the bed with a blanket up to her chin, staring at the ceiling. The sweet treat that she was sucking earlier was nowhere to be seen. She must've decided to just crack the candy with her teeth and throw the white stick outside the window.
From the way her jaw was moving… he guessed right.
Tokiya leaned against the doorway, folding his arms across his chest. "Going to bed so soon?"
"Nah." Fuuko answered with a grin, not taking her eyes off the ceiling. "You know, your ceiling looks so bare. Back in my room, I pasted some glow-in-the-dark stars on it just to amuse myself."
The ex-Ensui master was prompted to look at his room's ceiling as he strode towards the bed. "Feel free to paste the stars there if that's what you want."
"Really?" The purple-haired girl chuckled. "What's with you and all these giving-in-to-my-whims drama?"
Mikagami sat on the bed. "Trying to make it up to you since I nearly hit you with the car earlier?"
He got a groan from that statement. "Do we have to go over this again? I told you, you are not at fault." She sat up on the bed and scowled at him.
Her scowl turned into a questioning look when she realized that his attention was not on her. It seems like he was thinking of something because it's a rare occurrence for his attention to be diverted like this.
"Mi-chan?" She called softly. "Daijobu?" The relaxed mood they have earlier dissipated suddenly. She raised an eyebrow at him, willing him to tell her what he was thinking.
He sighed. "Wait here." He stood up and walked towards the study table to get the envelope that he placed inside the drawer earlier.
"I think this is the reason why he was here Fuu." He said handing it to his girlfriend.
"This?" Fuuko examined the envelope with a frown.
"My guess is that he wanted to leave it here for you." Mikagami said, as he sat on the bed again.
"Where did you get this?"
"On the bed, in your bedroom."
"What?!" Fuuko asked in disbelief. "But…that room is locked!"
"It wasn't. The door was slightly open." Mikagami murmured. "You didn't notice it when you went upstairs?"
"No. I didn't." The former wind master shook her head. "I guess I had other things in my mind."
"I checked your room and saw that the window was open." The silver-haired lad explained. "He probably climbed the tree near it to see if it was unlocked," Mikagami turned towards her. "Looks like it was. And even if it wasn't, he would probably smash the glass with a rock or something so that he can enter the apartment."
"He managed to enter our apartment, through the window of my room?" Fuuko frowned at that.
"There's a shoe print on the couch under your window." Tokiya added. "He probably didn't bother dusting it off. He wants you to know that he was…here. Inside the apartment, inside your bedroom."
"Kinda like a psychological scare?"
"Yeah…" Mikagami nodded. "But the thing is…"
"I don't get scared that easily." Fuuko continued for him with a grin. She was silent for a moment, taking in all the information. "I don't get it. All that effort just to leave this here?" She motioned to the envelope she was holding and shook her head in the absurdity of it all.
"Well apparently his efforts paid off, since he was able to get close to you." Mikagami muttered coldly, his eyes narrowing. The ex-wind wielder told him that the bastard had kissed her. The temper that he'd been holding back after finding out about it was flaring up again—dangerously flaring up again, to be exact.
Fuuko flinched at his tone. She never liked it when he's angry or anything near that word.
Because whenever he is like that, it reminds her of their Hokage fighting days—where everyone dubbed him as the most cruel and ruthless of them all.
"Gomen." He apologized when he saw her reaction.
"You rarely lose your temper."
"I just hate his fucking guts. I hate what he is doing to you. Kami help me, but I'm going to kill him once I get hold of him."
"Tch, don't say it like that." Fuuko winced. "I want to kill him too, wring his neck to be exact. But hearing you say that in a chillingly cold voice gives me creeps." She sighed and stared at the package that she was holding. "So what's inside this thing?"
Mikagami didn't answer.
Her eyebrows disappeared behind her bangs. "Have you seen what's inside it Mi-chan?" She asked, wondering what her stalker was going to give her this time. She frowned when she saw the way Tokiya was clenching his jaw.
Wordlessly she opened it and pulled the contents out. Her eyes widened as she stared at it. The envelope contained more than a dozen photographs of her—in different angles, locations and occasions—all stolen shots.
"What the fuck?!" She exclaimed as she leafed through the photographs. It was her—all HER. There was a shot where she was sitting on one of the stone benches in their university quad, reading a book, her iPod's earphones tucked in her ears. There was one where she was talking to Natsuo while they're walking along the crowded hallway of Todai. Another was taken when she and Yanagi were coming out of the cafe where she told the ex-healer about her unwanted admirer last Friday.
She continued staring at it, mesmerized at the dozen reproductions of her caught in different scenarios, wearing different expressions, oblivious that someone out there was busy snapping pictures of her everyday life.
Her dark blue eyes met Mikagami's, who was quietly watching her. "He probably wants me to realize that he is watching me, every day, every hour." Fuuko glowered at the prints in her hand. "It's like he's chronicling my everyday life."
"Well he's a stalker after all. That's what he does." Tokiya pointed out.
"Shut it smart ass."
The handsome lad decided to ignore the 'smart-ass' comment. They were silent for a while, lost in their own thoughts.
Fuuko sighed. "Regardless, these are some good shots."
"What?" Tokiya snorted. "You're not gonna tell me they are good because you're the subject?"
She rolled her eyes at his comment, a bit exaggeratedly. "Yeah, I was going to say that." Fuuko turned her attention back to the photos. "But really, they are good not just because I am the subject. These shots can be a good entry in the photo contest. Too bad I can't use them."
Tokiya's brows rose at that. "What makes you say that they are good enough for the contest?" Even if he belongs in a different college, he knows that the caliber of Todai's photography club and its photographers is high.
Fuuko held up one photo. "The angles are all right, the lighting good. It's artfully done. It has the appearance of a photo taken not just because it needs to be taken. This is definitely not the kind of pictures I'd expect from a stalker. "
"Unless he is a photographer." Mikagami muttered under his breath.
"What did you say Mi-chan?"
"Do you realize what you are saying?"
"Of course I do." Fuuko pouted at him. "I'm not—"
Her boyfriend cut her off. "You just inadvertently told me the possibility of your stalker being a photographer."
"Eh?!"
"You said the photographs are 'good enough' to be an entry in the contest." The silver-haired lad smirked at her. "I know the caliber of Todai's photography club and its members. If you say that the picture is good enough, then it is. And it could mean that your stalker may have some talent concerning photography."
Fuuko's eyes widened.
"That's just probable. I'm not really certain with it."
"He has to be! How else can he take pictures as good as these?" Fuuko's grip on the pictures tightened.
"Let's not jump into conclusions."
"But it makes sense." The ex-Fuujin master argued.
Mikagami shifted from his position so that his back was now resting on the bed's headboard. "It does Fuuko. But we're not really sure about it. We need more proof." He closed his eyes for a moment as Fuuko nodded half-heartedly.
"I guess we do." She agreed wearily. "Let's recap what we know about him ok? He's approximately 3 inches smaller than you, with the same built, talks with a raspy voice--"
"Of course it's not his usual voice." Mikagami interjected, reaching out for his contact lens container lying on the bedside table.
Fuuko glared at him. "I know that." She said with a huff. "And he is probably a photographer as evidenced by these photos." She flicked the photos with her fingers. "That's all we have."
"That's quite a help actually." Mikagami muttered as he took his contacts off. "How many guys out there are three inches smaller than me, with the same built? You cannot really change your height and built overnight, right?"
"Well… yeah." Fuuko grinned at that. "That means we just--"
"Need to be wary and in lookout for them." Her boyfriend continued for her.
"I really wish we can find out more info about him. It'll be much easier." Fuuko said with a pout. She was about to slip the photographs back in the envelope when she realized something. "Hey, come to think of it, they are not machine printed?" She blurted out in surprise.
Mikagami tilted his head to look at her. "Meaning?"
"Meaning they were printed in a darkroom." Fuuko clarified for him.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Wow. That was impressive." He commented, clapping his hands twice.
"I think you're insulting me."
"I'm not. Good observation Kirisawa." He reached out to pull her closer to him. "Anything else you can tell me?"
"You're a jerk."
She got a teasing smirk at that. "I know. I've been hearing that a lot from you. Is that a mantra?"
"Do not tempt me into using profane words on you." Fuuko threatened, giving her boyfriend the evil eye.
"Come on, work with me here." He nipped at her ear. The mood around them lightened up a bit. "What made you assume those things?"
"I'm not assuming." Fuuko corrected him, nudging him with her elbow. "It's a fact. Because only photographs taken from SLR cameras can be developed inside a darkroom since they use films unlike DSLRs." She explained, sliding the photographs back into the envelope.
"I see." Mikagami nodded at what she said.
The ex-Fuujin master slipped out of his arms and moved towards the study table to place the packet back in the drawer. She stood there for a moment, thinking. "You know, it's required for those taking photography classes to learn how to print photographs the old-fashion way."
"You mean, using the darkroom?"
Fuuko nodded. "Yeah, using that. Chances are stalker-san could be a student in Todai just like us."
"What makes you say that?"
"It just occurred to me," Fuuko said a bit quietly. "That those who mostly use SLR cameras aside from professionals, are either beginners and amateurs or… photography students."
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A car horn blared outside as a vehicle passed by with some loud hooting and laughter. Its headlights momentarily lit up the room and the figure grimaced. It was probably a bunch of drunken college bastards from a party in one of the neighborhood houses.
He brought his attention back to the photograph that he was holding. He had taken it from Fuuko's room earlier.
The purple-haired girl's face was tilted towards the camera. It gives off the impression that she was smiling directly at him. She was sitting on a chair with a food-laden picnic table in front of her, the blue lake behind her made a dazzling background with the sun rays sending sparkling silver lights on its surface. Mikagami was sitting beside her, arms resting on the table with a rare, small smile on his handsome face. They really made a pretty picture, the so-called perfect couple.
He let his finger glide over the smiling girl's face. Kami, she's so breathtaking. Everything about her is perfect. Her eyes, her nose…
Her lips…
He smirked. Her lips were so soft… so sweet…
So very, very, very addicting. No wonder Mikagami loves kissing her every chance he got.
He sighed and licked his own, as if doing so would let him remember her taste again. He recalled the unforgettable moment when their lips were finally pressed to each other. Molded into one…
It makes him crave for more. Want more. Taste more.
His hand shook a little. He had come to a decision.
He stood up and grabbed his jacket. He was not satisfied with what happened back at the apartment. He thought with a snicker.
It's about time for another bold move…
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Fuuko opened one eye when she heard her mobile phone ringing. Groggily, she pushed herself up a little, trying to recall where she had placed it before sleeping.
There was a grunt from her right side as Mikagami started waking up due to the unceasing ringing of her phone (which was increasing in volume by seconds). The digital clock on the bedside table near her about-to-wake boyfriend shows that it's already near midnight. Her phone was lying near it, lights flashing familiarly.
Despite the semi-darkness of the room, she saw Mikagami's hand reaching for it. Before he can answer it or throw it across the wall, she groggily climbed above him to grab her mobile phone. She was half-afraid that he'll do the latter, since his sleep got interrupted.
"Fuuko here." She answered the phone in a sleepy drawl. Yawning, she comfortably settled herself on top of Mikagami and planted a kiss on his chin as she felt his arm automatically draped itself on her back.
There was only a crackling sound from the other line. "Hello?" Fuuko prompted when she got no answer from the caller.
At her tone, Mikagami opened an eye.
"Hello?" Fuuko tried again. She was about to end the call when someone spoke in a raspy, spine-tingling yet familiar voice, prompting her to push herself away from Mikagami into a sitting position.
"Fuuko. Fuuko-chan."
Fuuko's eyes widened. What the hell?
Mikagami was now awake. He was eyeing Fuuko curiously. Without another word, his hand reached out to press the loud speaker button of Fuuko's phone.
"How are you Fuuko-chan?" The voice, unmistakably belonging to her stalker greeted.
-To Be Continued-
This is twisted but I really enjoy writing the stalker's POV, hehe!
Compared to the previous chapter, this one is definitely boring—big time boring—with all those conversations yadda, yadda. But still I hope it's long enough to make up for not updating soon. And if you do find this chapter boring, I'm sorry but this scenario needs to take place.
Photography-related stuffs here may be incorrect. I'm not a photographer, so bear with me.
The desperate times call for desperate measures line was from Disney's Aladdin. Kareshi and kanojo are Japanese terms for boyfriend and girlfriend, respectively.
Before I forgot, thanks to those who reviewed, read and added in their fav stories list my newest one-shot, The Simplicity of It. Thank you guys!
So, you know the parting words. READ and REVIEW PLEASE!