RECORDING
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A Year Older, A Year Dumber
November 27th was a very special day for a certain guitarist. It was eighteen years ago that day when two clueless seventeen-year-olds named Hirasawa Taiki and Kadoma Tsubasa were blessed with a baby girl. And lo, they were a family.
Ui was, of course, the first person to celebrate Yui's eighteenth birthday with her. She did it first thing just as her oneechan was waking up.
"Rise and shine, birthday girl," Ui commanded in a soft but bubblingly happy whisper, shaking the said birthday girl awake.
Yui rose, but she didn't shine…not until she was presented with a chocolate cupcake with pink icing and a candle on top. Then her face lit up with a brightness to rival the swerving flame upon the candle. Beaming, she eagerly accepted the cupcake.
Ui started to sing, "Happy birthday to you—"
Yui blew out the candle, pulled it out of the frosting, and stuffed half the cupcake in her mouth.
Ui giggled. Her sister had always done that since they were little — too excited for the cake to wait for everyone to finish singing.
After the cupcake was devoured in two bites, Ui led Yui into the kitchen, asking, "Do you want your present now or at dinnertime?" She already knew the answer.
"Now!" Yui cheered, the sugar from the birthday treat already doing its work. She pumped her fists eagerly. "Can I have it now, Ui?"
"You sure can." Ui had the present she had bought, wrapped, and hidden a month in advance on the tatami amid a spread of French toast and corned-beef hash — oneechan's favorite breakfast. Nestled underneath the silk ribbon were two cards: one from Ui, and one from Mr. and Mrs. Hirasawa. The latter had come by mail just two days ago — they mistimed how long it would take to arrive in Japan, y'see — and the younger girl had hidden it with her card and present.
Squealing, Yui knelt before the tatami, grabbing the present. She carefully weighed it in her hands, trying to gauge what it was. It was light, and the box was thin and rectangular. Probably an article of clothing of some sort. This excited Yui further, for Ui always bought people extraordinary clothes.
The guitarist immediately set about tearing off the wrapping paper. She knew Ui preferred to carefully remove the wrapping paper from presents, but Yui felt like ripping off the paper rounded out the experience more. When they were little, Ui insisted that the card should be opened before the present. But seeing as Yui was…well, Yui, the younger sister quickly figured out this mode of gift unwrapping wasn't going to change.
Once the wrapping was pulled away Yui yanked the white gift-box open. When she saw what was inside, her jaw dropped. "Wow!" she exclaimed, her admiration totally unaffected. "Thanks!"
It was a sweatshirt Yui had found over at Noonan's, a clothing store in one of Harajuku's many malls, and instantly fell in love with. Royal purple in color, this sweatshirt had 'AWESOME POSSUM' across the front in white bold letters. This was a little over a month ago, a few days after Ui's seventeenth birthday, and the ponytailed girl had been there when Yui dismally noted that the Awesome Possum shirt was beyond her budget. Later that evening Ui returned to Noonan's on a mall trip with Jun and Azusa to buy that shirt with her birthday money.
Ui had already snipped the tag off, for she knew Yui would pull the sweatshirt over her head. She did just that and sat there giggling, glowing in a simple pride of having Awesome Possum printed across her chest. Then she opened the cards; Mr. and Mrs. Hirasawa's included a check for ten thousand yen.
"Man, this shirt's the coolest!" Yui smiled, admiring the upside-down letters. "Thanks so much, Ui!"
"N-no problem." Ui was stuttering from laughter more than embarrassment. The shirt was cute, and oneechan wearing it was even cuter.
Startling Yui was no easy task, but Ui did it that morning. Basking in the glow of her oneechan's praise and feeling extra-confident just because it was Yui's birthday, Ui leaned across the tatami and planted a kiss upon her cheek. She was not too quick to pull back. "Happy birthday," Ui said softly.
"Th-thanks," Yui squeaked, a little more than fazed. That kiss didn't feel like a sister kiss. It felt like…well, how she kissed Azusa sometimes, she supposed.
Sadly, Yui could not wear the Awesome Possum shirt to school. She found this out the hard way when she arrived at Sakuragaoka with the shirt pulled over her blazer. A steady mist fell that freezing morning, but in her Awesome Possum shirt Yui felt warm, dry, and awesome.
The shirt earned her quite a few compliments from classmates, fellow Light Music Club members, and even first years whom she had never met before. But when she met Sawako on the way to homeroom the sensei did not look pleased.
"Shirt off," she ordered.
"It's my birthday, Sawa-chan!"
"Happy birthday. Now take the shirt off."
"Isn't it cool, Sawa-chan? Isn't this the most awesome shirt you've ever seen?"
"It's very cute, but you can't wear it in school."
I don't think she's hearing the second thing I keep saying, Sawako thought as Yui continued to babble about the shirt. She thought to step forward and physically yank the shirt off, but then she remembered spring when she had tried to get Yui out of her track pants. Good thing Tokudaiji wasn't there, or else she really would have been in the soup with the Headmistress.
…Though, lately, the psych teacher didn't bother her much about Mugi. He looked a little frightened these days.
Now he trudged past as Sawako insisted, "You can't wear that shirt in school, Hirasawa-san!"
"Don't get deferential on me, Sawa-chan," Yui pouted.
"That's right," Tokudaiji nodded. "You can't be a friend and a teacher at the same time. It's not cool."
"Would you piss off already?" Sawako snapped. "I'm so tired of all your crap!"
"For now," he responded, smiling thinly, "I will 'piss off,' as you put it." Frowning, he regarded Yui with a shake of his head and a wave of his pen. "Only the standard Sakuragaoka uniform can be worn on campus. Remove the shirt or else it will be confiscated."
"Hai, sensei," Yui grumbled, her hands coming up to pull the sweatshirt over her head.
A quaint little celebration was held in Music Room 3 after school. With Chiharu granting the band a day off and wishing Yui a happy birthday with only the faintest hint of a smile upon her lips, they had the whole hour and a half to drink tea and eat cake — which was a better present the guitarist could have asked for than the gift boxes her friends proffered her.
Everyone was here for this occasion — even Nodoka, Ui, and Jun. The last of the three had the music room rocking with her jokes until Yui realized Ritsu was not there.
"I'm not sure where she is," Mio grumbled, with a note of irritation in her voice, when the brunette asked. "She just ran off after music technology without telling me where she was going or what she was doing."
As if on cue, the door slammed open with so much power that everyone's hearts leapt into their throats. Ritsu trotted in, singing out a hearty greeting, her right hand thrown forward while her left hand dragged in her whining little brother.
"Ricchan!" Yui cheered, throwing her hand out in return. "Is that my present?"
Yui's "present" flushed bright red, both at the question and at all the girls staring at him. His hazel eyes drifted from one intrigued stare to the next. Never seen so many girls, he thought, shoving his sweaty hands deep into the pockets of his uniform. Don't know where to look first. But he did. His nervous yet heated gaze settled on the pigeon-gray eyes of Akiyama Mio.
"Why did you bring Satoshi?" she asked, her deep velvet voice more bemused than irritated.
"He's here to help with that virus the teachers have on their database," Ritsu responded. She had picked up on this bean of info aiding in the fine arts department.
Sawako narrowed her eyes. "Tainaka-san, I wouldn't let a student of Sakuragaoka near the teachers' computers, let alone a perfect stranger."
The corners of the drummers mouth turned up in a grin that was so mischievous it could only be rivaled by the Cheshire Cat of yore. She uttered a high-pitched giggle in a voice she blatantly copped from Suiseiseki. "Eeheehee…Then I suppose the other staff members will have to find out about a certain fine arts head who spends her free time downloading music and anime from uTorrent, desu. What was her name now, desu…?"
Sawako's face faded to an ashen color to match the cloudy skies outside. Her hand, reduced to almost liquid-pulpy weakness in her horror, slipped flaccidly from the tabletop. And it was decided then: Tainaka Satoshi would rid the Sakuragaoka database of its seven hundred-plus Trojan viruses.
Elsewhere in Japan, an S.O.S. Brigade Chief nods her head in approval.
Though there were male teachers at Sakuragaoka, a boy was still a rare sight for the students. Yui, Azusa, Jun, Mugi, Nodoka — their eyes followed the boy Tainaka as he made his way to a computer in a little office adjacent to Music Room 3. He kept his eyes down, not daring to look at any of these girls. His school was an all-boys school, so the sight of the opposite gender (neechan aside) was rare for him as well. And — he wasn't going to deny this — all these girls, with their soft hands and soft eyes and soft voices, everything about them so soft, got him excited. It wasn't anything to the point of him getting an erection, just a faint tingle in the tip of his penis. Satoshi kept his eyes down, away from these soft girls, so that the excitement would stay at that level.
However, ironically, it was because he was looking downward that he didn't see Ui coming at an angle beside him, on her own journey across the room to fetch some candles for the cake. His foot met her ankle, and when they stumbled awkwardly, not unlike losing contestants on Dancing With The Stars, and fell to the hardwood floor his unprotected face met her pantied yoni.
And so Satoshi met Ui.
As for the others, they really didn't know what to say. Even Ritsu and Sawako, the wisecracks, were lost for words. Had Satoshi and Ui fallen some other way of course the proper thing to say would be "Are you okay?" But Ui had landed with her kitty in his face, plus Satoshi was a fourteen-year-old boy, so everything was okay for him.
The smell of her panties filled his nose, mouth, and throat, and his eyes began to swirl languidly. It was a scent that was hard to describe: sweet, definitely, a clean sort of sweet — but not the soapy kind of clean-sweet. It was the smell of femininity. Of that Satoshi was completely certain. He knew no guy would ever smell like this. And was it just him or were her panties slightly moist…?
That tingling began to spread, becoming a warm, bubbly throb, and he frantically tried to thrash his way out from under her. With her panties above him and her supple thighs on either side of his head, escape was nigh impossible. Why wasn't she getting off him? Satoshi couldn't see past the cotton wall of her panties or the folds of her skirt, but Ui was wincing and nursing a sprained ankle.
From underneath her Satoshi's muffled screams sounded. He was all waving arms and kicking legs and what appeared to be a hood ornament stuffed down the front of his pants. Yui and Ritsu came over to help Ui off him, the latter of the two shaking her head and muttering about the absurdity of fourteen-year-old boys.
"Alright," Ritsu said gruffly, hauling Satoshi up. Her churlishness turned the word into awright. "Get to that computer, you ingrate."
"Yeah, uh…Will do." His voice cracked on will, and he cleared his throat…except there was nothing to clear. I can't wait for my voice to finally change. Behind him he heard giggles, like the light bubbling of a stream, and in that assortment of girly mirth he thought he heard Mio's voice. He kept his eyes down — at the floor, at that certain lump rising in his pants — as he trudged to the room. The smell of Ui's panties lingered in his beak, and he wondered if all girls' panties smelled like that. Do Mio-chan's panties…?
Over the years Mio had been something of a guilty pleasure of Satoshi's — someone he knew he would never have, yet he pined for her nonetheless. Sort of like when he was little and he would flip through the Christmas electronic catalogues, longing for the fifty thousand yen stuff and knowing his parents wouldn't (couldn't) spend that much on a present. But Mio's value to him went far beyond that of a fifty thousand yen doodad. He met her at the age of six, far too young to fully realize the importance of girls in his life. But he did know a pretty girl when he saw one. And even though his fourth grade class three years later would boast a supple amount of girls, Mio was the only girl on the nine-year-old boy's mind. What could he say? She was older than the girls in his class. She had the aura of an older girl who knew about things and people and cared about things and people…unlike his hooligan of a sister.
He fantasized about the two of them standing on the Hoshi Bridge in Central Park after Mio's graduation. Cold dusk would be settling around the two lovers, the world going purple in late winter shadow, the sky the color of ashes in the east and the color of embers in the west. A chilly breeze would kick up, sending Mio's liquid onyx hair ruffling toward him, her tears freezing to crackles on her face.
"I'm going to miss you most of all, Satoshi," she would sob, looking up at him (he was taller in this fantasy). "Please, let me give you my bass to remember me by!"
"Oh, Mio," he would rumble (he also had a deeper voice in this fantasy). He would extend a strong but gentle hand to smooth out a ridge of consternation on her forehead, and Mio's eyes would hood dreamily and she would blush. "The value of your bass doesn't hold a candle to your value. Just give me the pick and that will suffice."
And she would bring her gentle arms firmly around his neck and they would kiss. Usually that was the extent of his fantasy. If he was feeling particularly horny it would continue to include them finding a private place to do things he had no accurate or shrewd concept of.
Meanwhile in Music Room 3, Yui was up over the moon with delight as she was presented with a German chocolate cake courtesy of Kotobuki Tsumugi. It was a magnificent vision from butter and sugar heaven, complete with chocolate shavings lacing the edges of the swirly frosting. Anything that looked this good had to taste even better. Ui set eighteen candles in the masterpiece and Nodoka lit them with a lighter she had borrowed from her mother. Then it was time to sing.
"On three," the kaichou declared, shaking the flame out of the lighter. She then waved her hand like an orchestra conductor. "One, two, three…"
Everyone began to sing, "Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to…"
Their singing didn't abruptly stop so much as trail out as Yui blew out the candles and helped herself to a piece of cake. Ui giggled and Nodoka's eyes hooded in an I-knew-it sort of way. Everyone else stared and blinked stupidly. Azusa looked hard-pressed to scold her girlfriend.
From the other room Satoshi called, "What's the matter? Did you forget the words?"
"She blew them out already," Ritsu responded, both amused and bemused.
There followed the presents, which were mostly cheap yet valuable stuff, considering her friends' employment statuses. A pair of slippers from Mugi, the new Disorder and Early Sorrow album from Ritsu, an Ina Garten book on baking from Nodoka, a two thousand yen gift card to the Cupcake Factory from Mio (which Ritsu would blow a capillary over later. "You still owe me for that bet!" she would yell).
When it came Azusa's turn to give her present, she told Yui, "I did get you a present…but, um…I kinda want to wait until later to give it to you."
This struck Ritsu with a blow of indignation. Wait until later — what was that? Did she think she was better than the rest of them, just because she was the birthday girl's girlfriend?
Sawako, who had gotten Yui a wallet (a place to keep her school ID so she would never lose it again, hint hint), uttered a low laugh, one of her eyes gleaming under a shadow of impure thoughts. "Could this be a school-inappropriate gift, Azusa-chan?"
The kouhai looked up from Yui. "What…?"
"Are you going to have Yui-chan unwrap you for her birthday?" the sensei queried, not without relish.
Both Azusa and Ui blushed up to their ears, but for different reasons. The latter had a myriad of auras, but the two most prominent ones were I Hope That's Not Really Her Gift To Oneechan and Why Didn't I Think Of That? Azusa also had the second aura, though hers extended to …But It's Not Too Late To Give Her That.
"No!" she finally snapped, shuddering. Her quivering small hands, on their own detached and unconscious accord, came up to cup her patchy red cheeks.
Meanwhile Yui was rocking with giggles. "You can't unwrap Azu-nyan, silly Sawa-chan!"
A sort of stillness fell over the music room, save for the chuckling Yui, who was picturing herself tearing away brightly-colored wrapping paper to find her girlfriend curled within. Mio and Ritsu glanced at each other, an uncomfortable telepathy snapping between them as if on an electric current.
She doesn't get it, does she?
You want to explain it?
No way. I've had enough after explaining why the Nakano bunch wouldn't like them together.
From the other room Satoshi broke the silence with: "Hey, I'd like somebody to unwrap for my birthday."
Outside it was almost black with early nightfall. It was really a lot earlier than it felt, but that didn't stop the Light Music Club and their guests from groggily taking their leave. Mugi and Sawako left together, talking in anticipation of their date at Kuma's Corner later that night. Yui left with everyone else, except for Mio and Ritsu, who stayed behind to wait for Satoshi. On the way out of the music room Jun was goading Nodoka into an argument about foreign politics.
"The American economy is in baaaad shape, Manabe-san," Jun argued, grinning at how Nodoka's face reddened. The kaichou harbored a sort of resentment towards the United States government. "All the people want to know, where did the money go?"
"I'll tell you where it went," Nodoka replied. "It never existed. That's the thing with the American economy: they don't make anything…except Snuggies and male enhancement pills…"
Her bitter grumblings receded down the hallway until Mio and Ritsu were left standing in Music Room 3, embraced in almost total silence. Occasionally there was a mouse-click from the adjacent room, where Satoshi continued to fight the battle of the viruses side-by-side with Malware Bytes.
"How long is this going to take, Satoshi?" Ritsu called, knocking her heel impatiently against the wall.
"I dunno," he replied. "Killing viruses takes a lot of patience." Which was true. This whole situation was no picnic in the park for him either. He had spent a good chunk of time looking for and installing a virus-killing program that the Trojan bugs wouldn't immediately shoot down. Now Malware was doing a full-system scan on the entire Sakuragaoka database. By this point Satoshi's butt hurt from sitting in the chair and he was bored out of his skull.
The drummer turned her eyes upward, as if on an elevator, and lightly hammered her fists against the wall. She hated this recording business, hated it. She used to play the drums everyday. Her life had structure. Now it was just recording, sometimes going entire days without playing. Ui had innocently suggested Ritsu take up something new like kick-boxing or kendo or caber tossing, but the drummer saw an impetuous murderous rampage as more likely. And a certain pixie-haired pianist was sure to be her first target.
Mio strolled back and forth quietly, her footfalls slow and barely audible. Her right hand was cupped around her chin, as it often was when she was lost in thought. Ritsu was lost in her own thoughts when the bassist suddenly sidled up beside her.
"I need you to come over tonight," she whispered. "There's something we need to talk about."
Ritsu smirked up at Mio, her topaz eyes wide and glinting with interest. "Wellll, Mio, it's not my birthday. Certainly I don't deserve someone as gorgeous as you to unwrap…unless you're just letting me look."
BOCK!
The top of the drummer's head throbbed with a fresh goose egg as she staggered a bit before sinking to her knees before the flustered Mio.
Still, Ritsu was not one to shut up when it was best to. Once again her notoriously big mouth carried on. "You said we should focus on more serious things—oof!" she groaned as her girlfriend's knuckles slammed into her unprotected scalp once again, flooring her and loosening her headband a little. She feebly raised a finger and gagged, "You…said…"
"Ricchan?"
"Yes…?"
"Do you see this chair?"
"Yes." Ritsu's bleary, color-spotted vision focused on the folding chair Mio had rested her hand upon.
"Well, it's going over your head if you say one more perverted thing."
There was a pause before Ritsu sighed in agreement. Mio almost felt bad for the drummer, who was curled up in a fetal position around her ankles with one hand nursing her undoubtably aching head. The raven-haired girl was nearly certain that she wouldn't actually hit Ritsu with the chair. Christ, sometimes she even wondered if all this head-bashing would lead to an early onset of Alzheimer's. As she crouched to help her girlfriend up, she whispered, "It has to do with this whole recording business with Chiharu-chan...and that one with the blue eyes..."
"Hitomi?" Ritsu blinked. Her headache was taking its time clearing. "What about her?"
Mio wasn't in any mood to explain. All she could say was "Come over tonight," and leave the explaining for later.
"Alright," Ritsu nodded. Their intimacy was boundless, through their whispers and how close they were standing to each other against the wall. Though they weren't touching, the drummer could feel the heat of her childhood friend's body, permeating the air between them like the sun on an August noon. It was not, however, the warmest Ritsu would feel that day…
Mio had said she wanted to talk recording, yet Ritsu couldn't help but keep thinking of Come over tonight as her girlfriend's invitation to...
As hard as Ritsu tried to push the thought away, to take Mio seriously, those impure thoughts came drifting back like Tolstoy's white bear.
She was right there. Mio was standing right there, close enough to touch, her hands behind her back, and her bluish-gray eyes focused on the hardwood floor. Ritsu could still remember the first time the raven-haired girl actually clocked her. Throughout primary school Mio had a stutter — earning her the nickname Stuttering Mio — which worsened in fourth grade to the point of her needing a therapist. (Poor girl, if she wasn't 'sinistromanuel' she was 'Stuttering Mio.') She had spent summer break repeating the phrase Ueda-san the therapist had given her. She thrusts her fist upon the post and still insists she sees the ghost.
Mio and Ritsu had returned to Torimizu Primary that September, the former muttering, "She thuh-thrusts her f-fists uh-hupon the p-p-p-puh-host a-a-a-and stuh-huh-hill insists sh-she s-sees the g-g-g-ghost." Clearly, not much progress had been made. But somewhere in junior high the stutter went away, though the bassist still felt that familiar hitch in her soft palette when speaking, creating an awkward pause which would ordinarily be filled with clumsy consonant sounds.
Mio's stutter had been the but of many a cruel joke from some classmates. One guy — Ritsu couldn't recall his name — a big overweight guy with black hair in a crewcut once knocked Mio's books out of her arm in one swoop of his huge, trout-like hand. His liverish lips parted to reveal a gap in his teeth — when standing up for Mio, Ritsu would call him a smiling vending machine — and he cried in a mocking puny voice, "Juh-juh-jeez! Suh-horry a-about that, you cuh-cuh-cunt!"
If it was one thing Akiyama Stuttering Mio the sinistromanuel detested, it was when people tried to mimic how she spoke. Ritsu learned that the hard way in December of that same year, when the days creep in on that particular season that is the favorite of young children and the bane of post office workers. A Christmas song by the Ramones rasped thinly from Ritsu's transistor radio as the two of them sat by the heating vent at her house, exhausted and flushed from a snowball fight.
Mio lowered her steaming mug from her mouth. "G-G-Ghirardelli huh-hot cocoa's duh-hefinitely the b-best."
Ritsu stirred her candy cane in the frothy chocolate, then sucked on one end of it. "A-a-anything's buh-better wuh-when you add a p-p-p-p—" here she made a great show of spitting, the way the raven-haired girl tended to when stuttering on Ps "—peppermint stuh-hick t-t-to it."
KAPOW!
The punch was completely unexpected. Ritsu's forehead whacked the carpeted floor before she even knew what hit her. The top of her head throbbed with painful waves of circulation, and when she reached up toward it, her fingers grazed a stinging knob which refreshed the throbbing at a more intense clip.
When she looked up she found Mio staring wide-eyed at her left hand, as if she couldn't believe she had gone and done that. Her other hand grasped her steaming mug (amazingly, not a drop of her cocoa was spilled).
Regaining her resolve, Mio exclaimed, "If you d-do that a-again, I'll nuh-nuh-knock yuh-your frocking buh-block off!"
Frocking. The word made Ritsu giggle. Mio blinked, then indignantly raised her fist again.
"Alright, I won't!" Ritsu cried, fighting to stop her laughter. She threw her hands up: her white flag. "Don't hit me!" As if defending her, Joey Ramone picked up the chorus: "Merry Christmas, I don't want to fight tonight~"
The bassist thought whoever decided to make the stuttering girl read a whole five-paragraph essay on stage had a sick sense of humor.
The raven-haired girl snapped out of her trance and turned her head to find the drummer grinning at her. Ritsu looked amazingly young when she smiled, with or without her school uniform. But she would take it amiss if Mio told her that, throw a hissy fit and feed the bassist her lunch perhaps, so she simply muttered, "What's the matter?"
Her girlfriend shook her head, her smile broadening a little. "I love you," she responded cheerfully, her hands finding each other on the back of Mio's neck. "What could be the matter?"
Deciding maybe a response would sound stupid, Mio held her silence, letting herself be pulled forward by the drummer's shining topaz eyes. Her thin lips parted to close warmly around Ritsu's, surrounding her bokukko childhood friend in the second-best kind of loving embrace (the best is reserved for closed doors and dim lights, if you can dig that). The first kiss turned into the second, deeper one. Ritsu thought she could feel Mio's tongue touch hers softly, a feeling so smooth and gentle yet so torrid and unbridled that she shivered under the bassist's caressing hands, and she instinctively shot hers toward her girlfriend's swirling it around slickly.
Something between a grunt and a groan issued from Mio, who was tugging a bit at Ritsu's blazer. The logical part of her brain was shutting down, letting the raven-haired girl sink into the basement of her mind, where the bees worked, never thinking.
We're in public. This kissing can't go anywhere you want it—
Doesn't matter. I'll get as much of her as I can.
And Mio did get as much of Ritsu as she could. A handful, at least.
"Oh, God!" the brunette hissed, half from surprise, half from arousal, as Mio's hand shoved under her blazer and firmly but not roughly grasped her breast through her shirt. "What is it with you and my boobs?" the drummer asked amid husky, gasping laughter. Her girlfriend's eyes were dark and a bit guilty. "You're the stack-attack!" She laughed again as she grabbed Mio's immense breasts; her laughter withered as they actually overflowed her grasp. "The hell…? Have you grown?"
Under ordinary circumstances Mio would have crowned Ritsu, but she was still in the basement of her mind, and the bees would not let her go. Also, to be fair, she was holding one of her girlfriend's breasts as well.
So she leaned in for another kiss, using her free arm to pull Ritsu in, and growled, "You want to find out?"
For a moment there was disbelief in the drummer's eyes. Then that old grin that made her look so beautifully young returned. "Hell, yes." Her hands slid up the bass player's chest to lose themselves in the glittering, feathery locks of her onyx hair. As she kissed Mio, she let strands of it fall from her hands like precious black silk. She was very much aware of her girlfriend's left hand pulling and kneading at her breast through her shirt. She thought she might faint.
Maybe something will happen tonight, the brunette thought with chilling certainty.
It sounded like it came from far away — as if through a narrow tunnel — but from seemingly far away a startled croak guttered its way into their embrace, like a finger on your cheek. And Ritsu knew exactly who it was. The croaking voice was cracked, somewhere between that of a boy and a man. It was the voice of a fourteen-going-on-fifteen-year-old computer nerd who had such a low tolerance for illness that he could turn a common cold into a cardiac arrest…He could turn anything into a cardiac arrest, including what he had just walked in on.
Satoshi.
"Get out of here, you freak!" Ritsu bellowed as she tore herself from Mio. She felt bad about yelling at him like this, but now she just wanted him out of the room, as if he had never entered. "Go!" she reiterated when he hadn't moved. He had just stood rooted there, like a deer in headlights, his eyes saucers. It was when his sister advanced speedily upon him, fist swinging, that he finally tore back into the computer room, slamming the door behind him.
Mio, during all this, stood in the background, overcome with disbelief. She couldn't look Satoshi in the eye.
From behind the door his panicked, cracked voice mewled, "Tell me when I can come in…"
"Yeah, yeah," Ritsu snarled, turning away from the door. She wanted to kick herself, slap herself, and finally just drop an Acme anvil on her own stupid head. How could this be happening again? If it was one kind of luck hers and Mio's relationship didn't have, it was that of the Irish. Two down, one left. Frock it. We ought to find Dad and just kiss in front of him. A right proper way to come out to yer ol' dad if there ever was one.
"R-Ricchan…?" At last Mio found her voice. "What are we going to do about him?"
"Leave him be," the drummer decided. "I'd say he's had a good day. He got a faceful of a girl's panties and saw two girls making out. He's probably in whack-off heaven as we speak."
Satoshi, however, was not in whack-off heaven. He would never go to whack-off heaven with what he had just seen. Two girls making out was hot and all, but one of them was neechan! One of them was Mio, but the other was neechan! This was so explosively huge in his memory that it obliterated any pleasure he derived from having that one girl with the ponytail's panties in his face. In years to come he would think about that, get excited, and then semi-consciously think, That was the day I found neechan making out with Mio-chan.
And somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered, Are they lesbians…?
Nothing kills a guy's buzz like knowing the girl he's liked all this time is a lesbian. Plus…one of the girls was neechan!
After what felt like hours Ritsu finally let Satoshi come back in. She and Mio were bundled up, and he thought with a pang of regret of his coat and gloves at home. The cold immediately sank its fangs into his ears, nose, and fingers. From the pale sky swirled little white cottonfluffs. Snow.
Due to certain circumstances Mio and Ritsu did not walk home together. They headed toward the subdivision in the whirling new snow, Mio on one side of the street, Ritsu and Satoshi (avoiding each other's eyes all the way) on the other.
Good thing I'm going to her house, the drummer thought, because I am not going to be well-received at home tonight.
AKIYAMA MIO
January 15, 1992
Capricorn (December 22 – January 19)
Duality: Feminine
Triplicity (Element): Earth
Quadruplicity (Quality): Cardinal
Capricorn is reserved, prudent, patient, uses cunning instead of force, seeks security, is disciplined, determined, and quick to seize opportunity.
Ruling Planet: Saturn — Roman god who presided over the reaping and sowing of grain. In ancient times, the outermost planet of the known universe. In astrology, Saturn represents obstacles, limitations, restriction, and discipline.
Symbol: The Goat — a sure-footed animal who ascends great heights and takes advantage of every foothold. The goat butts its way through obstructions and loud drummers.
Polarity: Cancer — Capricorn is the sign governing reputation, career, and standing within the community. Its natives seek honor, praise, approval in the world at large, but tend to be emotionally reserved in personal relationships. Cancer, Capricorn's opposite sign (and the sign of Mugi), is the sign of domesticity and home life. Cancers derive security from the love and closeness of mates and family members.
Parts of the Body Ruled by Capricorn: The bones, joints, and knees — Capricorn natives usually have beautiful bone structure, but they are subject to stiff joints, rheumatism, and orthopedic problems.
Birthstone: Garnet — attracts popularity, high esteem, and true love.
Special Colors: Dark green and brown — classic, comforting colors of the earth.
Danger: Other people may harbor hidden grudges because of Capricorn's coldness and reserve. Secrets from the past may be used against Capricorn.
Famous Capricorns: Muhammad Ali, Humphrey Bogart, Al Capone, Anton Chekhov, Faye Dunaway, Benjamin Franklin, Ava Gardner, Cary Grant, Joan of Arc, Martin Luther King Jr., Jack London, Henri Matisse, Mary Tyler Moore, Isaac Newton, Richard Nixon, Edgar Allan Poe, Elvis Presley, Paul Revere, Setsuna Sakurazaki (sorry, couldn't resist), Carl Sandberg, J.D. Salinger, Joseph Stalin, J.R.R. Tolkien, Woodrow Wilson.
TAINAKA RITSU
August 22, 1991
Leo (July 23 – August 22)
Duality: Masculine
Triplicity (Element): Fire
Quadruplicity (Quality): Fixed
Leo is enthusiastic, powerful, expansive and creative, generous and extravagant, dogmatic and fixed in opinion.
Ruling Planet: The Sun — center of our solar system, a star that burns with intense fire and supplies us with light, heat, and energy. In astrology, the Sun is the most powerful planetary influence, bestowing vitality and authority.
Symbol: The Lion — regal, brave, dominating, sometimes lazy. Possessing nobility and pride.
Polarity: Aquarius — Leo is the sign that governs pleasure and creativity. Natives of Leo look for what they can getr out of life for themselves, and tend to dominate others. Aquarius, Leo's opposite sign (and Sawako's sign), is the sign of hopes and wishes and higher aspirations of mankind. Aquarian people are concerned with larger ideals, humanitarian concepts, and are more impersonal and aloof in their relationships. In short, Aquarius is interested in the world and Leo is strictly interested in Leo.
Parts of the Body Ruled by Leo: The forehead. No, I'm kidding. Back, spine, and heart — the heart is associated with warm emotions, the back with courage. Emotional strain or physical overexertion cause back and spine ailments in Leo people.
Birthstone: Ruby — protects against physical injury and ensures faithfulness. It also brings its wearer serenity of mind.
Special Colors: Gold and orange — the magnetic colors of the sun.
Danger: Leo people tend to be bombastic and challenging, sometimes provoking others (such as their childhood friends) into impulsive violence. They are also prone toward being victims of slander.
Famous Leos: Ethel Barrymore, Simon Bolivar, Napoleon Bonaparte, Ray Bradbury, Fidel Castro, Coco Chanel, Julia Child, Robert De Niro, Amelia Earhart, Zelda Fitzgerald, Alfred Hitchcock, Dustin Hoffman, Mick Jagger, Peter Jennings, Carl Jung, T.E. Lawrence, Madonna, Hermann Melville, Benito Mussolini, Andy Warhol, Mae West, Shelley Winters.
A/N
Here we begin learning about the astrological signs of the K-ON! characters. It was something I decided to do just for grins, and since I'm fascinated by astrology. Lately I've begun studying the eastern zodiac; my yearly sign is ram, which marks me as indecisive, my monthly sign the rat, which means I prefer to be my own boss (career-wise), and my hourly sign is the tiger, which makes me hot-tempered.
Why does everyone hate Satoshi? He appeared a grand total of three times in the anime, in none of which he proved to be an asshole.