Title: Stranger
Rating: T, although given my main characters, this probably ought to be K -.- Just in case, though.
Disclaimer: I do not own La Corda D'oro or any of the characters mentioned here. Except Takano and Usaki, but you probably knew that.
A/N - Sorry this is so late. Now I have APs coming up, and I have to do extra studies because I got my SAT scores back a couple weeks ago and I guess they weren't good enough, so my parents are making me retake it and if I don't get a higher score I will probably be killed. Not that I'm stressing or anything.
I apologize beforehand. The plot in this chapter is so weak you could blow on it and it would shatter.
Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed, and to I'mEmoCuzMySisSaidSo. I don't know how the word cello made it's way in there, but I appreciate your catching it.
I truly thank you guys for your kind words and feedback. You don't know how much they help me - they always make a rough day not so bad after all.
That said, please enjoy, and hopefully it's not disappointing!
Saturday Afternoon
"Fuyuumi-san . . . you look awfully pretty today," Takano remarked as she looked up in surprise. Shoko's cheeks darkened a little, and she clutched her bag to her chest, resisting the urge to run back upstairs and adjust her hair or change her clothes for the fifth time.
"Um, ah, thank you, Takano-san," she mumbled. She was already feeling nervous, and she hadn't even left the house. This did not bode well.
"Where are you going, again?"
"T-to a party, for Kaho-chan . . . remember? I went t-to get her a gift on Wednesday."
"Oh, I see . . . Right, tell Tsukimori-san I said thank you for seeing you home that night. You probably told him not to, so I'm glad he insisted."
"Er . . ." Shoko looked away uncomfortably. Takano glanced at her wryly.
"Thought so. Well, you do look lovely," she said again warmly. "It's a good thing your mother isn't here," she added, smiling a little.
Shoko resisted a shudder. If Mother were here, she would have taken this opportunity to play dress up with Shoko, who would end up refusing to leave the house out of shame. What was acceptable for one of Mother's parties was not acceptable for one of Shoko's.
Not that Shoko really knew what was and wasn't good for this sort of thing. She never went to this sort of thing.
Hence her nervousness.
"Um . . . d-do you really think this is o-okay?" She looked down at her clothes, a light blue cap-sleeved blouse and a knee length navy skirt with matching low heeled mary janes. She was torn between feeling overdressed and wondering if she looked boring.
Takano set down the dishtowel she was holding and looked at Shoko.
"You look great, Fuyuumi-san. Don't worry. Just have fun today, okay?"
Shoko fidgeted with the pleats on her skirt once more and sighed.
"A-alright . . . if you s-say so. Um, I better go pick up the c-cakes, I don't know how l-long that'll take . . ."
Takano nodded.
"Are you walking, or is Usaki-san driving you?" Usaki was the Fuyuumis' driver, a twenty something girl who's quirks and enthusiasm had appealed to Shoko's parents. Shoko both admired and feared her.
"Usaki-san is, I'd be afraid of b-being late if I walked."
"Okay, then . . . I hope everything goes well. Don't forget to thank Tsukimori-san," she said with a knowing smile. Shoko wondered what exactly she knew that Shoko didn't.
"Um . . . I w-will. 'Bye, Takano-san!" Shoko waved, and went out the door.
Usaki was already waiting with the car. She grinned widely when she spotted Shoko.
"Fuyuumi-san! You look gorgeous. What's his name?" she asked, winking.
Shoko turned red. Usaki had that ability.
"Um, w-what? I . . . there's a p-party, with all of the p-people from the concours," she responded, walking toward the door Usaki had opened for her. "But we need to s-stop at this cake shop f-first to pick up the cakes."
"Oh, darn. So there's no boy?"
Shoko avoided her gaze as she slid into the back seat.
"N-not at all."
There was a long pause.
"Huh. I see. Well - do you know where the cake shop is, or shall I look it up? I'm sorry, I'm unfamiliar with some of the cafes."
"Ah, it's over in the sh-shopping district next to s-school. I'll show you once we g-get there."
"Okay, thank you. Are we ready, then?"
Shoko nodded, and Usaki shut the door before going around to the driver's seat.
As the car began to move, Shoko leaned back into the seat, hands clasped tightly in her lap. She felt so nervous. Not as sick nervous as she had before meeting Len on Wednesday, but a sort of fluttery, lightheaded nervous.
And they weren't even heading towards Kazuki's house for the party yet.
She wished she had a compact mirror, but the only one she owned - a gift from her hopeful mother - was somewhere in the back of a bathroom drawer with all of the other cosmetics given to her over the years. She'd never seen any reason for them.
But if only she'd thought to bring the mirror. An apprehensive glance out the window suggested a slight wind - what if her hair went crazy and she showed up looking like she'd rubbed her head on a wool blanket?
"Fuyuumi-san, you okay? You look a little panicked. Something the matter?"
Shoko inhaled deeply, nodding at Usaki in the mirror.
"Um, it's f-fine . . . I just . . . er, well . . ." Usaki would probably understand.
On the other hand, she might ask questions. And tease Shoko mercilessly.
"I-I was thinking, it's w-windy, and my hair might . . . I d-don't have a mirror."
With any luck, that made sense.
Usaki's lips twitched.
"I see," she said, with a knowing smile similar to Takano's earlier one.
Shoko reisted the urge to glower, and clenched her fists. What was with everyone today? Had Shoko just woken up oblivious?
"Well, Fuyuumi-san. Since you seem unusually nervous about this, I would be happy to lend you one of my compact mirrors."
Suspicion and relief warred within her.
"Um, if you're sure . . ."
"I'll get it out at the cake shop."
So far, so -
"So who is it you're wanting to impress?"
Drat it all!
"Um . . . w-what do you mean? M-my senpais will be th-there, of course, and I wanted t-to look nice for Kaho-chan . . ."
"Which senpais are these, again?" Usaki was watching her like a hawk. Shoko swallowed, trying not to let her alarm show.
"Th-the students from the c-concours."
"And they are?" she asked, glancing back towards the fairly empty road.
"Um . . ." How to do this? Usaki was the sort who would definitely draw conclusions from little things, even if they were incorrect. If she said Len's name first, Usaki might jump on that - not, of course, that the majority of her nervousness today was because of him - but she couldn't say it last or that would have the same effect.
She quickly picked up her sentence.
"Kaho-chan, of course . . . Yunoki-senpai, Kazuki-senpai, Ts-tsukimori-senpai," It was all she could to do to keep her face from melting into horror. How could this have happened? It was critical that she list them nonchalantly, without any variance in tone or expression, and then she had to go and stutter. "And Shimizu-kun."
She crossed her fingers and prayed. Then waited. Usaki seemed to be mulling something over.
"I remember the others, but Tsukimori sounds unfamiliar." A little piece of Shoko died inside. "Tell me more about him, to help my memory? I can hardly leave you in the hands of strangers." Usaki's tone was far too innocent as she spoke, turning the wheel to the right and onto the school street.
Yes, yes you could. Please do. Maybe one of them will be kind enough to put me out of my misery so I don't have to find myself in a series of extremely awkward, uncomfortable situations, because it appears to be happening A LOT.
"O-oh?" she said instead, trying for the same amount of innocence. "Tsukimori-senpai? Um, he's the other violinist."
She hoped that would suffice.
"And?"
She hates me.
"W-well . . . he, um, he's the one with the blue hair. K-kind of tall."
"I see . . . oh, I think I remember. He's really handsome, right?"
Devil woman!
"O-oh, well, I-I don't know . . . I h-haven't really spent th-that much time with him."
"Yes, but if I recall correctly, he was the sort of handsome that you notice on sight, whether you know him or not."
Shoko mentally slumped in misery and wondered briefly why her parents couldn't hire a quiet, bland driver who didn't feel the need to torment her.
"W-well, you know I don't . . . don't look at p-people's faces."
"Huh. I see."
There it was again. The knowing smile. Shoko was going to go crazy if people kept doing this to her.
Oh no . . . did Takano think that, too?
She wanted to scream, It's not like that!! But if it wasn't like that, then what was it like? What exactly was IT?
"Alright then, Fuyuumi-san, where do I turn?"
"Um, turn left here," Shoko said, gesturing. "And then go down this street, it's towards the end. The Sugar Garden Cafe."
"Sounds yummy. Have you been there before?"
"Yes, with Kaho-chan and Tsu-" Shoko halted. Having spoken without thinking, she'd almost walked straight off of a cliff.
Usaki's eyebrows shot up, and after she finished parking and killed the engine, she swiveled in the driver's seat, her gaze like a spear, which made Shoko the fish it was about to go through.
"Tsu?" she prodded.
She would have lied, but Usaki seemed to have a sixth sense.
"W-well . . . Tsukimori-s-senpai, but . . . um. He . . . it was c-coincidence. It was supposed t-to be just Kaho-chan and me."
That actually was the truth, but in her evident desire to see Shoko turn into a nervous wreck over a boy, Usaki might not believe it.
But she did. Looking disappointed, she propped her elbow on the top of the seat.
"Well, darn. Hey, wait, you said you hadn't spent that much time with him."
"I-I haven't!" It was a good thing she didn't know about Wednesday.
"Sitting down for cake is more than enough time to notice he's gorgeous. That you insist you haven't, or that you've avoided noticing, is just proof that you actually have noticed."
"F-fine! So he's, um, rather h-handsome. It doesn't matter t-to me."
Usaki tilted her head and looked at Shoko with sympathy.
"Yes, it clearly does," she said gently. Shoko said nothing for a moment, a variety of feelings bubbling up. Resentment for Usaki's nosiness, discomfort at the fact she might be right, and something akin to hurt. It wasn't her fault she felt like this. She didn't want to care.
At least, she was pretty sure she didn't.
She reached forward and pulled on the door handle.
"I-I, um, I should go get the cakes, I d-don't want to be late."
Usaki looked at her for a long time before she sighed and turned back to the front.
"Alright. Do you have your wallet with you?"
Shoko nodded, and without waiting for a reply or another question, stepped out and went into the cake shop.
"Welcome!"
The girl at the counter was the same one who had waited on them last Friday. Shoko smiled tentatively.
"H-hello . . . um, I'm here t-to pick up some cakes?"
"Certainly," she said, pulling out a sheet. "Last name?"
"Fuyuumi."
The girl scanned the list.
"Ah, here we are. Let me run back and get them, it'll be just a moment," she told Shoko, and then hurried through two doors leading to the kitchen.
Shoko folded her hands atop the glass counter, and looked at her shoes while she waited.
The doors swished open, and the girl was back, carrying a bag.
"A Strawberry Tango, a Funky Fruit Tart, and," she smiled here. "A Dark Castle Cake. Right?"
"Y-yes . . ." Shoko was wary of smiles today.
"That will be 3,920 yen, please."
She handed over two bills, and the girl gave her some coins for change.
"The Dark Castle Cake is for Mr. Tsukimori, isn't it?" the girl asked as Shoko snapped her wallet shut.
"Um . . . yes, it is . . ."
The smile turned into a grin.
"What did he do to deserve a whole cake?"
"W-well . . . um, he paid for d-dinner the other night, so I thought . . ." she trailed off.
"So you guys are dating?" she asked curiously.
"N-no! W-we . . . um, the cakes are for a p-party for the girl that was with us, um, and we h-happened to go find a present t-together." The floor never seemed to swallow her up when she wanted it to.
"Oh . . . I'm sorry, I hadn't meant to pry, but . . . well. Mr. Tsukimori seems so mysterious. I was just wondering," she apologized, looking embarrassed, but not nearly as much as Shoko did.
"I, um, it's okay. Ah, th-thank you, but I should hurry if I'm going t-to be on time."
"Oh, yes! Sorry to take up your time like that. Please enjoy the cakes, and have a nice day!"
"Th-thank you, you too," Shoko returned, and gratefully swiveled around and started making a beeline for the door.
"And Miss?" the girl called out hesitantly, causing her to halt and turn her head.
"Y-yes?"
The girl gave her a little smile.
"I like your outfit . . . you look very pretty." Her eyes twinkled. "I think Mr. Tsukimori will think so, too."
Face flaming, Shoko couldn't even get out a response. She just hurriedly stumbled out the door.
"Alright, Fuyuumi-san, do you have everything you need?" The borrowed compact had been tucked away into her purse after extensive, frantic study of her reflection. The bag with the cakes and Kahoko's present was securely held in her left hand.
"Y-yes, I'm pretty sure."
"Okay . . . since you don't know how long this will go, you can call me when you need to be picked up. Do you have the number?"
She nodded, distractedly surveying the sky. It had been sunny earlier, but the temperature dropped and it was cloudier now. She hoped it didn't rain.
"Then, I guess, just have fun. Don't be too nervous." Usaki paused. "And Fuyuumi-san? I'm sorry . . . I didn't mean to interrogate you earlier. It was out of line. I was just so excited, since you were behaving unusually, but in a good way."
"Ah, um, i-it's fine, Usaki-san. I understand." Even if she had been considering jumping out of the moving car.
"I'm glad. You should go on, then. I'll see you later!" She gave a little wave before closing the door behind Shoko and going back around to sit behind the wheel.
She waited until Shoko had gone up the path and Kazuki had thrown open the door and ushered her inside before driving away.
"Shoko-chan!! You're here! Tsukimori-kun brought the food over earlier, he's out getting Kahoko-chan now . . . anyways, he said you were bringing cakes?" Shoko glanced around the entryway. It smelled clean. She suppressed a smile, easily able to picture Kazuki scrambling to clean up for guests, hair tied back and sleeves rolled up.
She decided she liked his house; it felt comfortable, but still nice and open.
"Y-yes . . . A strawberry cake a-and a fruit tart, in c-case someone prefers it."
"Awesome!" Kazuki clapped his hands together and skipped a little. "You can put your stuff here," he said, gesturing next to the door. Several spaces were already occupied, in varying stages of tidiness as far as placement.
She slipped off her shoes and extracted the strawberry cake and the fruit tart, leaving Len's in the bag. She tucked her purse in with it, and grabbed Kahoko's present as an afterthought.
"Ah, you can put those on the table with the food and drinks, and the present by the loveseat," he said, leading her into a living room that connected to a dining area. There was a white tablecloth on the long, rectangular table, and various snacks and appetizers were placed upon it, along with some punch, soda, and tea.
In the living room, Keiichi was nodding off on a loveseat, while the tall and somewhat disgruntled Ryotaro was adjusting some hanging decorations under the command of a smiling Azuma, who greeted them when they entered.
Shoko wondered if Yunoki ever stopped being scarily polite and charming, but maybe that was really just his normal personality.
"W-wow . . . it looks really n-nice," she said, taking in the room. An artful canopy of streamers stretched above them, the ends running down the walls in various lengths. The table had little glass centerpieces and fresh flowers, and the doors leading to the small patio were thrown open. Classical music spilled from the speakers of a stereo set at the end of the table.
"Thanks!" Kazuki beamed. "I hope Kahoko-chan thinks so, too."
"I'm s-sure she will," she told him, setting out the two cakes where she could find space.
"Those look delicious," he commented, eying them with the typical interest of a teenage boy. She smiled.
"They're f-from Kaho-chan's favorite c-cafe."
"Great, then she'll -"
The doorbell rang. Everyone straightened, eyes going to the door. Kazuki practically ran to it, swinging it open with a huge grin on his face.
Len and Kahoko stood on the step, both looking as lovely and well-matched as ever. Kahoko wore an expression of confusion.
"I thought we were going to visit a violinist you thought I should meet . . .? Why is Kazuki-kun here?"
Len, as expressionless as usual, shifted and looked to Kazuki, who opened the door wider so she could partly see into the decorated living room. Shoko gave a little wave, and Azuma, Ryotaro and even Keichii came to stand with her in the doorway.
"Surprise!" Kazuki exclaimed, and Kahoko's mouth opened.
"S-surprise? What do you mean?"
"Well, it's a surprise party.. For you."
She gaped, staring at him.
"For me? Why?"
"Because you've done so much for us, we wanted to do something for you."
She seemed unable to speak for a minute.
And of course, tears filled her eyes. Shoko knew why, but Kazuki and Len looked alarmed.
"Eh?! What's wrong?" Kazuki asked worriedly.
Kahoko just wiped at her eyes.
"Sorry," she said, giving them a tremulous smile. A warm feeling enclosed Shoko's heart at her response. "I just . . . I wasn't expecting that . . . this is so nice of everyone, although, I don't know what I could have done to warrant this. And Tsukimori-senpai!" Her misty gaze took on a twinkle. "Shame on you for not telling me."
Len simply cleared his throat and looked at the wall. Azuma stepped forward and pulled out a handkerchief, which Shoko thought Kahoko seemed to be a little suspicious of, but she supposed Azuma was eerily dazzling enough to make anyone uneasy.
She dabbed at her eyes, and when she looked up again, she was grinning happily.
"Thanks, you guys . . . I don't even know what to say."
"You should thank Kazuki-kun, especially, it was his idea."
Kahoko took in this fact, and suddenly gave a startled Kazuki a quick hug before withdrawing in slight embarrassment.
"Thank you so much, Kazuki-kun . . . this is so sweet."
"W-well," Kazuki said, bright red and trying hard not to grin like a fool and failing, "Um, do you want something to drink, or to eat? Shoko-chan brought your favorite cake. And Tsukimori-kun's cook prepared snacks so . . . oh! And there are presents!" he said happily.
She looked at everyone worriedly.
"Presents? Isn't that going a little far? You really shouldn't have."
Kazuki waved a hand in dismissal.
"It's okay, we split up into pairs, so there are only a few," he gestured for her to follow him into the living room. Shoko and the rest cleared out of the doorway as they entered, and Kazuki directed her to the loveseat. He turned around and picked up one of the three presents stacked beside it before handing it to her.
She seemed to still be a little in shock as she accepted it, peering at the name.
"Shimizu-kun and Tsuchiura-kun . . ."
"Open it," Ryotaro instructed, a broad grin on his face. Shimizu's own sleepy face had a smile on it.
"Okay . . ." She hesitantly tore off the edge of the blue and white wrapping paper and withdrew the contents, a book of music scores - Shoko smiled a little at that; probably all three pairs had gone with something music related - and one of photography.
She smoothed out the wrapping paper on the seat next to her, and then ran her hands over the covers of the books.
"These are wonderful . . . thank you two so much . . . ahh, I still can't believe you all went through all this trouble, I feel so bad about it," she explained, hand on the back of her head in that way of hers. Kaho-chan is so cute when she's flustered, Shoko thought, feeling glad to be a part of this.
Kazuki and Azuma's present went next, a baseball cap and a stuffed blue teddy bear wearing a white ribbon with black musical notes on it - wow, musical paraphernalia was everywhere- most likely Kazuki's contributions, and an elegant hair comb with high-quality silk flowers arranged across the spine along with little sparkly gems, most likely Azuma's choice. She thanked them with the same laughing awkwardness she had the first two.
Lastly, Kazuki handed them Len and Shoko's gift.
"And this one is from Tsukimori-kun and Shoko-chan!"
Embarrassment momentarily forgotten, her face took on an expression of alarmed surprise, as if to say, 'You made Shoko-chan go shopping with Tsukimori-senpai?!'
Yes, that's how I reacted, too, Shoko thought wryly.
"Tsukimori-senpai and Shoko-chan?"
Kazuki laughed nervously.
"Er, yeah, but it seemed to go okay . . ."
Len raised an eyebrow, and Shoko tried hard not to giggle at Kazuki's frozen expression.
"Oh, well, um, let's see," Kahoko broke in hastily, peeking up at Shoko like she was looking for confirmation.
Shoko tilted her head and smiled back.
"O-open it," she said, and Kahoko looked relieved to know that Shoko had survived.
She would probably not believe that she had actually enjoyed it. But Shoko was strangely okay with keeping that a secret.
Like Wednesday evening was hers and hers alone.
Kahoko pulled out the blue tissue paper and set it down next to her, reaching into the bag and pulling out the carefully wrapped items.
"Ohhh . . . it's so pretty," she said upon seeing the pin. She ran her fingers over it's shining surface, smiling up at Len and Shoko. She set it down with her other gifts and removed the tissue paper from around the CDs.
"Yay!" she exclaimed. "This is great, I'd been wanting to get some more classical CDs . . . thank you two so much!"
Shoko blushed, pleased. She was so glad Kahoko liked them.
"Y-you're welcome, Kaho-chan," she murmured.
She peeked out of the corner of her eye at Len, who nodded in agreement, his face unchanged.
But she could read the awkward shift and flickering eyes. He was glad, too.
Next to Len, Azuma glanced at her with raised eyebrows, and Shoko's gaze snapped back to the floor, her face heating at having been caught looking at Len.
It warmed even more as she realized she was displaying a telltale blush.
You shouldn't have looked, she scolded herself.
But for once, she didn't feel that guilty.
"Do you want something to eat now?" Kazuki asked, and the group wandered over to the table.
As Kazuki served the cake and Ryotaro poured drinks, Shoko found herself standing next to Len, a both pleasant and uncomfortable thing.
"Fuyuumi-san . . ." she looked up, startled to find him talking, albeit hesitantly. "Thank you for taking care of dessert and wrapping the gifts. I hope you did not run into any trouble."
How strange for him to say. She thought her pulse might have sped up.
"Um, it was n-nothing," she said, trying not to smile. "Th-thanks for arranging the f-food . . . and you were in ch-charge of getting Kaho-chan t-to come, so . . ."
He was quiet for a moment.
"I'm glad it was no trouble," he said, and turned to accept a cup of punch.
The brief, unreal seeming encounter was over, and as she took a sip of punch, she peered at him over the rim of the cup, wishing she knew what he was thinking. Why he'd said anything.
Such a puzzling boy, she thought, closing her eyes and inhaling the sweet scent of the drink before setting it down on the table and sitting down.
There was scattered laughter and conversation as they snacked, and after they were done, Kazuki stood up.
"Ah, next I thought we would play a game of charades . . ." Shoko winced. That would involve standing up in front of the rest of them and making ridiculous gestures.
She suspected she would not be very good at charades. She had never been good at letting go and having fun. Or communicating, especially without speech.
A look at Len's pained expression told her he was probably thinking along the same lines. Shoko wondered if Kazuki had recalled who exactly was invited to the party when he'd come up with the game.
Or maybe Azuma had. She noticed he seemed to like causing a little bit of mischief sometimes. At least, she was pretty sure he did. He couldn't possibly be oblivious to the effect some of what he said had on situations.
Kazuki briefly went over the rules in case someone had forgotten or was unfamiliar with the game, and they retreated into the living room. She sat next to Kahoko on the loveseat.
"I wrote some random things down on slips of paper and put them in a jar, so whatever you pick from the jar is what you need to act out," he said, setting the jar on one of the end tables.
"Er, I guess I'll go first," he said, plucking a slip out of the jar and going to stand in the center of the room. He looked at it for a moment before sticking it in his pocket and holding up two fingers.
"Two words," Kahoko offered helpfully, and he nodded, changing it to one.
"First word," she said.
He propped his foot up on some imaginary surface, put a hand on one hip, and held the other to his brow, peering out from beneath it.
Everyone studied him thoughtfully.
"Tourist?" she suggested.
He shook his head, giving her a weird look.
"Captain?" Ryotaro's guess.
Close, he gestured, changing his position. He sat on the floor, bent his elbows and pulled his fists in close in a rowing motion.
"Crew?"
Kazuki shook his head.
"Sailor?" This actually came from Len.
Kazuki jumped up from the floor, nodding, and held up two fingers.
"S-second word," Shoko called quietly, rather than taking her usual approach of Be quiet and pretend you're not there.
He nodded, then made a circular motion with his hands before pointing upwards.
"Sun?" Kahoko's.
He made the close gesture again.
"Ah, then Moon," she guessed, and he nodded excitedly. She laughed.
"Sailor Moon," everyone stated in unison.
"Yes!" he exclaimed, grinning. "Who's next?"
Ryotaro lightly prodded Keichii, who had been watching the game dazedly.
"Shimizu-kun? Why don't you go, so you don't fall asleep?"
The boy blinked, and stood up, pulling out a piece of paper from the jar. He put it in his shirt pocket and stood in the middle of the room.
Keiichi held up two fingers.
"Two words," Ryotaro said.
A nod, then one finger.
"First word."
Keichii lay down, clasped his hands over his stomach, and closed his eyes.
"What? Don't fall asleep!" Ryotaro exclaimed irritably, but Keiichi shook his head and stayed as he was.
"What . . . oh. Sleep?"
Keichii held up a hand, the thumb and forefinger an inch apart.
"S-sleeping?" Shoko ventured, and he nodded, slowly getting up.
He held up two fingers.
"Second word," Kahoko confirmed.
He paused for a long moment, looking thoughtful. Then he fluffed his hair, and started turning his face, admiring himself in an imaginary mirror.
Everyone looked half-amused and half-baffled.
"Um . . . well, not vain . . ." Kazuki mused.
"Sleeping Beauty?" Azuma asked with a smile.
Keichii nodded, and Shoko couldn't help but laugh at the irony.
She stopped when she saw Len giving her another of his inscrutable looks, and studied her feet instead, wondering if he did that on purpose. She couldn't recall ever having done anything to annoy him. Except, of course, act like a terrified mouse whenever he was within a one mile radius, but who could blame her?
"Okay," Kazuki said. "Tsuchiura-kun, it's your turn, I guess, if we're going clockwise." He held out the jar cheerfully, and Ryotaro reluctantly withdrew a piece of paper before going to stand in the center and proceeding to mime out a variety of undignified things.
The game continued for a while after, and Shoko, as she laughed at the various boys' reticence and out-of-character gestures, and also nervously stumbled through her own roles at various points, was thinking how glad she was that the party had happened.
Which was always mistake. What was it she had always known well enough to be afraid of?
That something would go horribly wrong.
"I know," Azuma began when only a few slips remained in the jar. "Why don't we have a little dance, in honor of Kahoko?" That blasted smile was on his face, all teasing innocence, and Shoko's stomach sank.
"Eh? Oh, but that's -" Kahoko tried to argue, but Kazuki, clearly enthralled by the idea of getting to dance with her, jumped to his feet.
"No, no! Good idea, Azuma-kun! I'll find some music."
"I really don't think -"
"Tsukimori-kun," he said, him and his two rows of gleaming white teeth completely ignoring Kahoko. "Since you didn't really participate much in charades, it's only fair that you should dance with Kahoko first."
If anything, Kahoko looked more apprehensive. Len seemed to still be processing. Kazuki's face had fallen.
"Um, Yunoki-senpai . . . really, this is -"
"What?" Len.
Shoko felt like she was watching a trainwreck. She couldn't speak or do anything, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the horrifying scene.
"You're going to dance with Kahoko. How lucky," Azuma explained again to Len, who had stiffened in his seat. Azuma didn't seem to be enjoying everyone's discomfort, and yet he couldn't be so daft as to not realize what he was doing.
"Alright," Kazuki said, standing and dusting himself off as the sounds of a lively orchestra began to come out of the speakers. He glanced towards the open sliding doors, where a slight wind came through, rustling the drapes and napkins on the table. Outside, the sky had darkened considerably. "I would have you go dance on the patio, but I think it might rain."
Azuma gave Len a light push in Kahoko's direction. It seemed that no one was going to make Shoko dance. She thought she should be relieved, that she should be grateful for their consideration, as everyone knew how shy she was.
But she was suddenly feeling strange. Like so many other times recently, she did not feel at all like herself.
"Go on, Tsukimori-kun. But don't monopolize her for too long."
Kahoko looked worried.
"Ah, Tsukimori-senpai, you don't have to . . ."
Shoko watched him reluctantly take one of Kahoko's hands in his, and set the other lightly on her waist. She clumsily rested hers on his shoulder, and the pair were off in a vaguely awkward twirl, Kahoko's feet stumbling. Around them, Azuma was smiling like he had just gotten away with murder, and Kazuki and Ryotaro had begun talking, though they each had one eye on the dancing couple. Shimizu seemed to have nodded off.
And Shoko sat quietly on the sofa, that awful, twisted feeling rising in her gut. Her chest hurt. She watched the pair across the room as Kahoko's steps gradually grew more comfortable, Len hesitantly tried to make conversation, Kahoko smiled encouragingly . . .
She was surely going to be sick. She felt dizzy and bewildered and hurt.
She stood and walked over to Kazuki. Kahoko and Len glanced over at her questioningly, and Shoko somehow forced a smile. Kahoko returned it and said something to Len, who immediately returned his attention to the redhead.
Shoko clenched her fingers.
"U-um, Kazuki-senpai . . . where is your r-restroom? I d-don't feel quite well, and thought I'd g-go freshen up."
"Ah, sorry you're not feeling well. It's the last door at the end of the hall . . . are you going to be okay?" he asked in concern.
I wonder. And she did. Would she be okay? It didn't feel like it. Everyday the feelings were like a worsening disease, and lately she thought they would consume her. Did it ever stop? Did she ever stop wondering, stop thinking, stop wishing?
"I sh-should be fine." And she darted into the hall, inhaling the lemon-scented air and feeling only slightly better to be out of the room.
Once in the safety of Kazuki's little powder bath, the open window rustling the curtains and letting in the pre-rain scent of the outside, Shoko gripped both edges of the sink and tried not to vomit.
She looked ghastly. Somewhere between saying goodbye to Usaki and watching Len spin Kahoko around the other side of the room, outlined by the blue-tinted light from the open patio doors, she had been visibly drained of color and energy. It might have been the lighting from the stormy sky, but she was pretty sure she was turning gray.
She stared at her reflection miserably, and then sank to the floor, clutching her knees. Her heart was pounding and her stomach had turned into an angry hurricane.
I would rather jump out of a window than go back to the party.
A strong breeze lifted the hair off her neck, and feeling hurt and reckless and wishing nothing more than to disappear, she didn't stop to think. She just stood up, clamored up onto the lid of the toilet, and climbed out the window.
Once out, she eyed the open patio doors, heart racing. A strong wind whistled, pulling the trees in one direction, and she took the noisy opportunity to dash in the other direction without being heard, through the gate, which had swung open in the wind, down Kazuki's driveway, and safely to the sidewalk, where she began running.
Running away? she thought, shoeless feet hitting the pavement. She felt her stockings catch along the cement, but didn't stop. Yes. Always running. What, she wondered, moisture gathering in her eyes, is so wrong with that?
She continued running, towards home. It was a long way, though, and at some point, two or three streets away, she came across a bench. She slumped onto it, head back, the first few drops of rain hitting her in the face. She didn't mind. If anything, she was grateful. At least the weather seemed to know how she felt.
She hugged herself tight and silently cried, thinking too hard as always, wishing she had kept running until her sides hurt enough to distract from the ache in her chest.
How was it she had come to be here? Could it have been avoided if she had never agreed to go to the cake shop with Kahoko, if they hadn't stopped by the florists and run into Len and she hadn't seen him look at Kahoko like she were the only thing worth looking at and at the same time seen him, the beautiful, cold Len Tsukimori laugh in such a way that rendered her speechless and breathless and less many other things?
Kazuki, she thought, would still have the party. She still would have been invited. She still would have been paired with Len and she still would have those few hours of his time that she thought she might not trade for anything.
But maybe if she had continued keeping her distance, watching from afar, she wouldn't have said yes to the party. Wouldn't have followed him down the corridor to the music room.
Wouldn't be here, sitting on a bench in the rain, without shoes or a jacket or her purse or the cake she had gotten just for him, having crawled out of a bathroom window at a party without telling anyone where she was going.
No, she thought, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her cheek on top of them, biting her lip. I still would have. I would not have been able to stop myself. I'm not an idiot. I know better. I have always known.
Knowing and reacting correctly, however, were two different things.
Perhaps if she hadn't been in the concours with him. Hadn't gotten to quietly watch him up close, hear him the night he played at the training camp with Kahoko, come to know his voice.
But that wasn't quite right, either. Long before the concours, she had -
"Fuyuumi-san."
Either she was going crazy, or Len was standing in front of her, holding her shoes and the bag with the cake and her purse.
Her legs straightened, feet coming to rest on the ground as she stared up at him in shock, the tears momentarily ceasing, though no doubt they were still visible on her face.
He hesitated.
"You forgot your things."
Even the embarrassment she knew was inevitable had not yet hit. She was still processing that Len seemed to have walked a very long way just to bring her the things she had forgotten. At best, someone like Kazuki would drop them off at her house later with a concerned message asking what happened.
But someone like Len?
Kazuki must have sent him because he'd already danced with Kahoko.
Except again. Kazuki would have dropped her stuff off later. There was no reason for anyone to try and follow her when she could have gone anywhere, least of all Len, who, surely, would only do such a thing under serious threat of death.
And Shoko could not imagine any of the five other concours participants threatening Len with death for the sake of returning her things.
Why? She couldn't seem to voice the question out loud. Why are you here?
"Here." He set them next to her and stepped back. To anyone else, he might have seemed at ease, but she could tell he felt awkward. She did too.
The silence stretched.
"Hihara-senpai said you were feeling ill."
He did not point out that she had crawled out of a window, for which she might have been grateful if she weren't still hopelessly confused.
Her pulse, she noted, had sped up. At least that was still functioning.
"I . . . um, I . . . s-sorry to make you come a-all this way with my s-stuff, I . . . you r-really didn't have to, I just . . . I d-didn't want to b-bother anyone."
He paused.
"I see. You should come back with me or go home. If you aren't feeling well, you would be an idiot to sit in the rain."
She should be offended.
Instead, she thought she might melt, despite the chill and damp and everything.
And the disease progresses.
"I-I'll just s-sit here for a while and then g-go home."
"I'll wait, then, and walk you."
"P-please don't."
He narrowed his eyes at her.
"I insist."
"N-no, I would r-rather you not." She couldn't handle that. She couldn't handle his . . . kindness? Whatever it was. She couldn't handle feeling as out of place and at odds with herself as she did now and being forced to walk next to him, asking herself repeatedly why he was doing this and unable to come up with an answer. She didn't get him. He shouldn't be here. He should be back at the party, looking dignified and elegant in some random corner while he secretly wished he were still dancing with Kahoko or wondering why he felt like his chest hurt when he saw her dancing with one of the other boys.
But he was not. He was here, refusing to let her walk home by herself, disinterested in why she had crawled out out of a window without informing anyone she was leaving, or why she had so obviously been crying, or why she didn't want him to walk her home. She had thought she'd known a little about Len Tsukimori. Enough to know that she should stay away. Enough to know that she wanted to know more.
But really, she knew nothing, because she could not fathom his reasons for being where he was, doing what he was.
She hated this.
"It's f-fine," she said again. "I-I can walk by m-myself."
He was quiet for a long time, before he nodded stiffly.
"I see. Goodbye, then. I'll let everyone know you went home."
He turned and began walking away.
The feelings twisted. She tried to shake them away, staring after him in confusion and perhaps a little regret. She wanted him to leave her alone, and yet she didn't.
He disappeared around the corner, and she wiped her eyes, which had begun to sting once more, before putting on her shoes.
She wasn't sure where to go now. She couldn't go home. It was still too early. Usaki would wonder why Shoko hadn't called. Takano would take one look at her, sit her down at the kitchen table, and give her some tea without saying anything - just looking at her sadly while Usaki would try and make her laugh.
She didn't have the energy to deal with the embarrassment at being caught in such a state, or the inevitable kindness the two would show. At this point, it would just make her feel worse. There would be no way to escape up to her bedroom, though, and she didn't want to. There, she would be alone with the silence. At least out here, she could hear the wind and the sound of passing cars.
She certainly couldn't go back to the party. She wasn't sure she even wanted to face any of them again. She had crawled out of a window. She didn't even want to think about explaining that.
So lost in her thoughts, she did not hear him approach. For the second time, he had to speak to get her attention.
"Fuyuumi-san."
She started.
"Ts-tsukimori-senpai?"
This did not add up. Nothing did.
He looked annoyed, and didn't say anything or explain his presence.
She couldn't bring herself to ask.
After a few long moments of tense silence, he sat down next to her.
The silence continued, and her brain was working again - or rather, not working again, as per usual - seeing as how she was growing more uncomfortable by the second, sitting next to him. Especially given his downright bizarre behavior.
"Ah, um, why a-aren't you at the party?"
He looked at her in irritation and didn't answer for a moment.
"I would be forced to play more stupid games if I stayed."
That almost sounded reasonable.
Almost.
Or maybe she was just imagining things. Of course charades and dancing and polite conversation would be a powerful form of torture for Len.
"O-oh."
"Why haven't you gone home?"
She winced.
"I-I was going t-to."
"I see."
And he obviously did see - that she was clearly not intending to go home.
She did not, however, expect him to call her on it.
"You aren't going home."
She swallowed.
"N-no . . . I d-don't . . . that is . . ." She didn't know what to say.
His long silences were going to be the death of her. Just when she'd begun to think she was getting a little more comfortable with this frightening, nerve wracking boy, he came along and defied explanation by doing things like leaving a party in order to come sit on a bench with her in the rain.
He stood, and she almost made a noise of protest.
Don't leave. She held onto the edge of the bench. Irrational. What was she thinking?
She waited.
He started walking, in the opposite direction of Kazuki's house.
Was he going home, then? What if she had offended him? Really, it was considerate - that is, if he didn't have some other reason, whatever that could be - of him to bring her her stuff, and then to come back to see if she'd gone home like she should have. But she hadn't explained herself, when he deserved an explanation. She really hadn't said anything. In fact, she had downright rudely told him she didn't want him walking her home.
But what could she say? You make me feel so nervous I want to faint, and at the same time, a tiny thing makes me giddy, and then something that shouldn't mean anything makes me feel like someone has gone at my heart with a paring knife.
It didn't even make any sense to her. To anyone else - especially Len! - it would sound crazy.
Not to mention a little creepy.
"Are you coming or not?"
She stared. He was looking at her over his shoulder in irritated expectation.
"U-um, what?"
"Are you coming or not?" He repeated.
"I, um, I, okay." She must have missed something. Like the part where he told her what precisely was happening.
She felt completely at odds, but some part of her brain made her pick up her bag and stumble off the bench after him. She didn't even ask where they were going. She didn't think to call Kazuki's house and tell them where they were going. It didn't even cross her mind that they would wonder, or that she had essentially abandoned Kahoko to the blatant impropriety that was being at a party with four teenage boys who bore her more than friendly affection.
She really didn't think at all. Just hurried to catch up with Len, who had continued walking at a brisk pace.
And when her brain finally regained some functionality, all she could do was wonder if it would always be like that. If she'd just follow him, no questions asked, without even thinking to do otherwise.
I knew he was bad news.