Sometimes, I get anxious and stop.

Come on, go barefoot / you'll be free / I want you to feel and see / it's okay not to think too hard about it.

Chapter Thirteen

Be free (second part)

Three
As drinks more and more quickly turned the girls into drunks, Rei found herself increasingly having to nanny people—nobody had thrown up yet, but at the rate they were going, it was really only a matter of time, and when you were that drunk, it was high time to stop—into putting mugs down. Laughter became increasingly easy, though never raucous, which surprised her. She did have to calm Yoshino down a couple of times, but that wasn't hard—the girl seemed to relax utterly at a simple touch, (And all it took was a few mugs of beer, Rei thought bemusedly. All nannies should be so lucky) the last time, going so far as to simply drop her head into Rei's lap when she came near. She didn't move for a minute or two, and Rei realized that she was asleep.

Really, that was the last straw. She had no real problem with the idea of the thing; in fact, it seemed to be doing wonders for Sachiko, who was laughing—and honestly, just behaving—more freely than Rei had seen her in years. She hated to take that away from her, but, while Yoshino roused a minute or two after, it still sent a terrified chill through Rei's body when she simply dropped like that.

Not bothering to wait for a lull in the conversation, which was only about two-thirds coherent at this point anyway, Rei put on her best Kendo-instructor voice and shouted, "Okay, everybody, time to pack it up and get some sleep."

Nobody objected. In fact, when Sei finally looked at Yoshino in Rei's lap—now more or less roused, but with eyes which were not entirely focused—she sobered immediately and stood up, rousing the crowd along with Rei, pinching and nudging when necessary. "Up, everybody. If your roommate starts to have problems, come get me or Rei right away."

"Rei or I," Shimako corrected, her voice slurred slightly. She had apparently chosen the un-Buddhist path along with the rest of them—or perhaps, simply because of the rest of them.

"Yes, yes, you're very good at Japanese," Sei said, stumbling slightly as she nudged Sachiko and Yumi, both of whom giggled as Sei bumped into them, out the door.

"Are you going to be all right yourself, Sei?" Rei asked.

"I'm fine," Sei said. "It's my own damned fault for acting like a twice-damned idiot, drinking like a thrice-damned fool of a schoolgirl."

Something showed on Sei's face that Rei didn't like. "Lay off of it, Sei," Rei said. "We all made the same mistake. We wanted to have some fun, and I think we just went a little overboard, or maybe we're just a bunch of lightweights."

"You didn't," Sei pointed out. "You acted like a grownup."

Rei shrugged as she helped Yoshino up from the spot on the floor which she had decided was a comfortable place to slump. "If I had asked you to be the grownup tonight, do you think you could have been?"

Sei sat down on the bed with some trouble, looking all the more bitter for it. "I doubt it."

"You've done it before," Rei said. "I'll see you tomorrow. Come see me if you need help."

"I'll be fine," Sei said. "And I still think sandpaper is a better metaphor."

"I'm telling you, you've got to use something people can relate to. If it's the first thing that pops into your mind, it's probably a decent metaphor."

"Cute. Get your pile of a cousin out of here."

Rei left, half-carrying Yoshino. The door shut, the click seeming to echo off of the walls.

The next sound Sei heard echo was the sound of a loud, wet burp; threatening and alarming, both at once. Sei looked at Shimako, who had found time to curl herself up into a little ball, her face contorted in fear.

(go sit next to)

"Oh, shit," Sei said, all at once forgetting that she and her petite soeur weren't speaking, much less

(touch)

touching. A weird combination of adrenaline and experience kicked in then, moving her feet one in front of the other instead of both at the same time, keeping her upright. She moved quickly, picking Shimako up under the armpits. When Shimako didn't move, Sei whispered gently, "Come on, Shimako. I need you to help, or we're not going to make it."

Even from behind, Shimako looked green. For somebody who had never before so much as touched a drop of alcohol, this was probably terrifying, so Sei could understand where the girl was coming from—so to speak—but nonetheless, the girl started to move her legs, which were wobbly at best, but supported her weight, if only because she seemed to weigh next to nothing. This is not going to do right by her body. What the hell were you thinking? Shimako started to turn her head to look up at Sei, but Sei used her shoulder to nudge it away. "Keep your mouth pointed down, kiddo," she said. "If you choke, then we're really in it deep."

They made it in about twenty seconds, with about ten to spare. Both spans of time seemed like an eternity to Sei. Into the white, white, white bathroom, taking care not to slip out of their slippers, and then Shimako essentially dropped to her knees in front of the toilet, flipping the lid up almost as an afterthought. She leaned into the bowl, and Sei knelt down beside her and gathered her hair up, holding it away from her mouth with one hand. With the other hand, she rubbed the girl's back.

Shimako's eyes were wide with fear. For half a second, she glanced at Sei, off to her side, and then a vile, horrid retch racked her body, and she contorted, bent even further, and heaved into the toilet. Her eyes stayed shut after that.

It was over in a few minutes. Shimako heaved three more times, and in between each, Sei flushed the toilet and used her handkerchief to wipe Shimako's brow, which was coated in sweat each time.

After that, it was just Shimako breathing hard—panting, really—and Sei rubbing her back, still holding her hair back, for some reason.

"Got it all out of there?" Sei asked after a period that could have been a few minutes or more than an hour.

Shimako nodded, her eyes still squeezed shut, and Sei moved her head out of the way and shut the lid, and gave the toilet one last mercy flush. After the water had stopped circulating, she stood up and took Shimako's hand and led her out of the bathroom, back into the main room, and sat her down on the bed, and then stood in front of her. The girl seemed to have picked up an unhealthy curve to her spine.

"Are you feeling better?" Sei asked.

Shimako nodded, looking subdued, not looking at Sei.

Sei sighed, and then sat down next to her, not close enough to touch. "Shimako, what were you doing? I don't think I need to tell you this, but you're not even really supposed to be drinking. Sila and all that."

Shimako shook her head. "Nothing is set in stone."

"How about this, then," Sei said. "How much do you weigh?"

Shimako looked up this time, though not at Sei. She didn't look troubled, just confused. She answered honestly, though: "About forty five."

"You weigh about as much as my torso," Sei said, privately wondering how truthful she was being. "How much did you have?"

"I don't…really know," Shimako said honestly, her words not slurred, but certainly moving out of her mouth more slowly even than usual.

"Usually, that's bad. If this is your first time at it, a small person like you shouldn't be drinking more than they can count." It's a wonder she didn't pass out.

"It's not that," Shimako said. "I just…never really paid attention. I didn't mean to. Whenever I thought about…it," at this, Sei took another little hit in the gut, "I took another sip, and then somewhere along the line, somebody gave me a refill, and I wasn't paying attention."

"So you didn't stop because you never dried up." Yoshino should have known better. I should have known better than to give Yoshino a damn bottle.

"Because I couldn't stop thinking about it."

Sei leaned back on the bed, stared at the ceiling. "Do you want me to tell you I'm sorry?"

Shimako shook her head. Sei saw it out of the corner of her eye.

"That would be dishonest," Shimako said.

"No, it wouldn't."

"Then it would be too hard to hear."

"You're a tough girl. I'm the one who's not tough."

That was cold. What the hell is wrong with you? She's obviously still shaken.

(if i say anything else shell get the)

right

(wrong impression)

"Please don't tell me that. It's not true."

Why? I don't understand it. Why would she just…do that all of a sudden?

(because you're as blind as a bat)

(blind as a sei the metaphor only works if you pick somebody everyone can apply it to)

"You should get some sleep, Shimako. I can sleep on the floor."

Shimako shook her head.

"You've got to be sleepy. Somebody else might not have considered it a lot, but for you, there's a lot of alcohol sitting around in your body, even after that."

"Please don't talk about that."

"Are you feeling sick again?"

"Would you come with me if I was?"

"Yes."

"I'm not."

"That's good."

Silence. Then, Shimako said, "For a minute, I thought I was going to die. I've never felt like that before."

Sei felt something blocking her throat. "Me too. I was…scared."

"Were you?"

"Yes."

"That's good."

"Hey now," Sei said in spite of herself. "I really was scared. I hadn't even seen how damn much beer you had put away. If I'd had any idea that Yoshino was doing that to you I'd have lopped her off at the ears."

"I did it to me."

"Did you want to?"

"Yes. It felt good. I'm not supposed to do it, but it was better than thinking. My father will scold me."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Probably."

"Which part?"

Shimako looked at Sei, her face clouded. "Which part should I tell him?"

It certainly wasn't what she said, but the look on her face broke Sei's resistance.

(don't you'll give her the wrong idea)
You can take your ideas and shove them up your sorry ass.
(do you really want to let her in)
Yes. I don't know why, and I don't know if I can handle it, but I overestimated this girl. Maybe I just didn't know it about her; that she was like the rest of us, that she had a limit somewhere. She's a tough girl, and nobody doesn't know that. When I walked with her that day, hand-in-hand, I had thought that she was just sad because I was leaving, but it wasn't just that, was it?
Damn it all, I'm a lousy sister sometimes.

Sei stood, moved closer to Shimako, and sat again. This time, they did touch; Sei pulled her in, and Shimako laid down so that her head rested on Sei's lap. From above, Sei could see only her profile, all graceful lines and thick, rich hair.

She really is beautiful, isn't she.

Huh.

"You were scared too, weren't you?" Sei began to gently stroke the girl's hair.

"Yes. I didn't want…it was hard when you left Lillian."

"You got by okay."

"I know I did, but that doesn't mean it wasn't hard. I can deal with it. With distance between us. But with this…I felt like it put up a wall, and that was worse than all the distance in the world. I don't know how well I would be able to deal with that. I don't think it was very well at all."

"You've never needed me to help you get through things."

"You've never seen how you help me when you do. Neither have Yumi or any of the others. Nobody can do it by themselves, Onee-sama."

She's right, you twit. You give her her space because it's what she seems to want and what you're inherently comfortable with, but you can't lie and say that that night, when you offered her chocolate and took her hand instead, that it didn't feel nice. She cried because she was going to miss you, and only Yumi and Shiori did that before her.

That feels nice, doesn't it? To know people care about you. Even if you know it, when they show it, it feels nice.

Yeah.

"Shimako," Sei said, her throat a little tight. "If you want to, you can try again with…you know."

"I don't feel like it right now," Shimako said.

Sei felt something fade in her. "I'm sorry."

"Please don't misunderstand, Onee-sama," Shimako said, and for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, that old playfulness, so gentle and subtle that you barely knew it was there, entered her voice. "My mouth still tastes foul and I'm sure my breath is the same way, and right now, I'd really just like to sleep. But maybe…"

"Later."

"After I've brushed my teeth several times."

"I don't know if it's a good idea."

"You're also drunk, and I'm not steady on my feet either, though I've sobered since…you know. Maybe that's the other reason. Let's wait. For a while."

"Sure," Sei said.

You're making a mistake, Sei.

Maybe. Maybe not.

The real mistake was how quickly you said no, though. As though you hadn't even thought about it. As though it was the only thing you could say. Being surprised and skeptical at the sudden, unspoken admission about her sexuality was a shitty, shitty way to justify it to yourself.

"Thank you," Shimako murmured, and then, a second later, she dropped off into sleep, as though she had just been waiting for that. A minute later, Sei finally felt the tug of the alcohol and exhaustion at her, and then she was asleep too.

This was probably the first time in many years that either of them went to sleep without brushing their hair or their teeth, or putting on some sort of nightgown to avoid wrinkling their clothes.

Maybe that was why doing it together for the first time was all the more special.

Four
Sachiko could not help but snort out a giggle when Yumi knocked into the door she was supposed to be opening and said, much louder than she needed to, "Where'd that door come from? It popped into me out of nowhere!"

"It was always there, Yumi," Sachiko said through a giggle. "The way it is, you're too stubborn to face how solid it is, is what it is."

"I'm pretty sure that's two too many is's is what that is, Onee-sama," Yumi said, fumbling the keycard out of her pocket.

"I'm quite certain I know how many is's are appropriate," Sachiko said. "I know how much everything is appropriate for everywhere…ever…here." She frowned. "Definitely."

"You're always so appropriate, Onee-sama," Yumi agreed.

Well, you didn't have to be so honest about it, Sachiko thought.

"Always?" Sachiko said. A moment later, Yumi realized that she was inserting the keycard upside down into the slot, flipped it, and started trying to open the door again.

"Always," Yumi said. "Like, even when your insides are spilling out your appropriates you're outside. No, hold on." A click, and Yumi thrust the door open with a bit too much force, nearly toppled inside. "Darn," she murmured as she caught herself. "I think I had too much."

"Is that your first time doing this? No, hold on," Sachiko echoed.

"No, I've drunk before, but I only did it this much once before."

"When?"

"It was this much, you know?" Yumi stretched her arms out, showing Sachiko how tall her glass had apparently been—nearly as tall as Yumi herself.

"But when?" Sachiko giggled. Somewhere deep underneath the haze that encompassed most of her brain, she thought, what are you doing? Get hold of yourself, woman, you're acting like an idiot.

No, she argued, you're acting like an idiot. I'm acting like a Sachiko.

You're not acting like an Ogasawara.

But I'm a Sachiko. So that doesn't make any sense.

"Oh boy, it must have been…two years ago? Mostly I drink with my brother or Yoshino, only a can or something." The door shut behind Sachiko, and Yumi flopped down on the bed—there was only one of them, because apparently this hotel is all about being that comfortable with whoever you were rooming with.

That doesn't make any sense.

Neither do you.

To Sachiko, it seemed a compelling argument.

Sachiko sat down next to her—until the little corner of the bed gave out on her and she fell with a small thump to the floor.

Yumi snorted heartily, and Sachiko couldn't help but erupt in giggles with her. "This is so stupid," Sachiko said. "If my mother saw me like this I think she might die."

"She'd be glad you're giggling like a stupid," Yumi said.

"That's a stupid," Sachiko countered. "I'm not acting like a proper Lady. Lay-dee."

"But you're more than that," Yumi said. "You're a Sachiko, right?"

Somehow, it all seemed so simple. "If only," Sachiko said, and then, all at once, she began to sniffle.

Yumi dropped down beside her and immediately grabbed her around the shoulders. "Onee-sama? What's the matter?"

"I have no idea," Sachiko admitted as tears began to well in her eyes. "Just that the thought of you saying that makes me very happy."

"Saying what's the matter?"

"No. That other thing. About me being a Sachiko." Tears began to creep their way down Sachiko's face.

"That's silly, though," Yumi said, hugging her tighter. "What else would you be?"

"A fake," Sachiko whispered.

"I don't think you are."

And Yumi was being completely, utterly honest. Even through her drunken haze, Sachiko could see that.

"Being a Lady isn't easy," Sachiko said.

"No," Yumi agreed, strangely serious in spite of her earlier playful, tipsy attitude. "It's not. You should be a Sachiko instead."

That seemed, for some reason, impossibly philosophical to Sachiko.

I must have been a monk in my past life.

"Why is that?" Yumi asked.

"What?"

"You said you must have been…um." Yumi frowned. "Forgot. Hey, you stopped crying."

"I said that?" I did?

"Mmm." Yumi laid her head down on Sachiko's shoulder. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you say that, silly." Yumi snorted again—had she ever been serious? Had Sachiko just imagined that? She began stroking the girl's hair, finding it almost unbelievably soft, though she realized in the little rational part of her mind that never left her, even after a long round of drinking, that she was exaggerating.

Normally, she probably wouldn't have said anything. She might have wanted to, but her pride would never allow her to say such an honest, dangerous thing.

But now…

"I said that because I got a beautiful petite sher…s…souer…sour…" Sachiko frowned, stumbling over the word.

"Soeur."

"That. I got a beautiful petite soeur who can defeat everything my stupid, stupid self throws at her without even breaking a sweat."

"Ladies don't sweat, Onee-sama. You ought to know that."

Sachiko cracked up. For some reason, that was just too much; not simply giggling, but out-and-out laughter, hearty and honest, in a way that she couldn't remember doing before. Yumi joined her, and after a while, they just dropped to lay down on the floor, facing each other. Since they hadn't turned the lights on when they entered, Sachiko couldn't see the girl particularly well, though the moon reflected the light off of the water into their room fairly well.

"The bed seems like the more appropriate choice for laying," Sachiko said, and then stood—with some difficulty—and dropped down onto the bed. A few seconds later, Yumi followed.

Now, her face was fully illuminated, slack and unconcerned, her eyes closed.

"Shall we go to sleep, Yumi?"

Yumi nodded, not opening her eyes. "Good night, Onee-sama." A moment later, she opened her eyes. "Pajamas."

Sachiko nodded.

It was in this way that Sachiko saw Yumi fully nude for the second time. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe something
(the mood)
else, but whatever the case, Yumi changed, only half-turning away, perhaps too tired or too drunk or too something else, in front of Sachiko, who did not look away.

Who couldn't help but watch Yumi's slim, pale body shine in the moonlight.

Who couldn't help but feel.

"What did I just do?" Sachiko murmured as Yumi crawled back in bed.

"You didn't change into your own pajamas," Yumi said. She opened her eyes then and looked into Sachiko's, and her own became a little wider.

With comprehension, maybe. With understanding.

With (agreement).

Her voice became lower, throatier.

"Your turn," she said.

Sachiko had never undressed in front of somebody before, but that didn't make it hard. In fact, nothing was hard now—she did what she wanted first, without thinking about it, and it was wonderful in that way.

She turned herself away from Yumi only half-way as well, not looking at anything as she changed, quickly, in about the same way as she always did. Only the confidence of routine kept her from tripping over her nightgown as she put it on. She tried not to think about it. Tried hard.

(the way the moonlight played over her collarbone will it do that for me)
(I looked at her breasts is that where her eyes are is she even looking)
(what is she thinking)
(is she asleep)

"You're…very beautiful, Onee-sama." Yumi's voice seemed to come out of the dark itself, if only because Sachiko did not look at her. She could not remember precisely in what state of dress she was in when the girl said it.

Maybe it was when she was fully clothed.

Maybe that made it all the sweeter.

Maybe it was when she was fully naked.

Maybe that made it all the more lustful.

Sachiko sat down on the bed next to Yumi, who sat up.

"You're very beautiful, Yumi," Sachiko echoed. She did that often, and she realized this now.

And really, there was one important thing you did with beautiful girls, right?

Yeah.

Who started moving first was unclear. Maybe both of them had the same thought at the same time. It wouldn't have been the first instance.

Sachiko's hand came up and touched Yumi's cheek. Yumi's hand touched the side of Sachiko's neck, her palm touching her collarbone, stroking with her thumb. It felt
(she did see)
nice.

Yumi's breath felt hot on Sachiko's face. It smelled of alcohol and nerves.

Sachiko wondered what her own breath smelled of. It must have been identical.

(this can't be proper)
(can't be right)
(can't be anything)

At one time, that thought alone would have pervaded Sachiko, stopped her before she had even started.

Now, it didn't even slow her. She was drunk, and it seemed like her inhibitions (and very possibly her common sense) were a distant memory, an annoying fly at her ear.

The first thing that Sachiko found was that Yumi's lips were very soft.

The second thing that she found was that Yumi was nowhere near as shy as she seemed. Yumi's other arm curled around Sachiko's head, her hand on her hair, drew her near, so that their bodies touched.

(what am I doing)
(kissing your petite soeur)
(why)
(because you love her)
(not like that I don't. I can't. I'm to be married to Suguru I can't do this this is not right at all)
(then what are you doing)

Sachiko didn't stop.

They parted after a time. Yumi looked Sachiko in the eye. Sachiko saw something like fear, and she smiled and stroked the girl's face, and then lay down. Yumi lay down next to her.

"What now?" Yumi whispered.

Sachiko drew her close.

"Sleep," she murmured.

"I love you," Yumi whispered.

"And I," Sachiko returned. It seemed like the simplest thing in the world just then. "Love you. We can sort this out tomorrow morning." That she was drunk then never occurred to her.

As it was, though, alcohol was a cruel master, with its hand in everything from memory to behavior.

Nothing was ever that simple.

--

As always, thanks for reading! If you liked it, or if you didn't, drop me a review and tell me about it.

If you're thinking this is sudden or convenient, or an early resolution to a problem, reread the last two sentences and think again. I'm nowhere near that gentle-hearted.