Alas, chapter six has been completed. I suppose a mere apology for taking so ridiculously long would not suffice. I will strive to find a way to make it up to you all. As long as it doesn't involve my firstborn or Canada. But back to info about the story. It's REALLY angsty. Like, while reading over it, I got a little depressed. Made me want to hug a Pringles tube for comfort. So bring out your Pringles tubes, and... Enjoy :)
It was like falling out the window from the third story.
It was like gravity was pulling down at me even more insistently than usual, and I didn't move to resist. It seemed logical that, since it already felt like I was falling, I'd actually fall. I jumped out of the bathroom window, giving myself up to the mercy of the ground below. And it just so happened that I was indeed on the third floor. It's impossible to say which idiot part of my brain voted for that action to take place, but the region must have had veto power. No sane human being would jump from a window unless their mind was in anarchy. A window flashed by, then a second, then—
Ground. Solid, concrete, unmerciful ground.
My bare feet hit the cement with a thump, making my shins sting and tingle before turning to a dull throb. I walked down the empty street, not sure where I was going. I supposed it didn't really matter. Wherever I went, the people who knew me would undoubtedly shun me. They'd figure out what happened and expose me for the grime I was. If only I could take on another identity, become yet another form of Ritsuka.
"Hello?" a familiar voice called out to me from down the street, breaking through my thoughts. "Ritsuka, is that you?"
I turned to see who was calling me and what they could have possibly wanted. I wasn't in the mood for casual conversation. It irritated me that they were saying my name, asking if I was myself, mostly because I didn't want to be. The voice was forcing me to remember that I was me and there was nothing to be done to change it.
"Hey, kid, what're y— oh wow! What's this?" He patted where my ears were supposed to be, ruffling the hair there. He squatted down to my level, trying to make eye contact, but I looked away.
"Yeah, what do you want?" I said, swatting his hand off of me. He straightened and folded his arms.
"Well, I was on my way to the store 'cause I ran out of chupa, but since I'm here, I'll have an explanation." He stared at me intently, with no sign of giving up the query.
He really won't leave this alone, I said internally. Stubborn as always. I was torn between blurting out the truth and just running away. I thought it over, formed a clear explanation in my head, one that didn't have all the details but hopefully would sate Kio's curiosity.
But even as I opened my mouth to speak, the words stuck in my throat. They lodged themselves just beyond my tongue, refusing to venture upward and out. The effort of trying to speak made muffled choking sounds.
I figured that the air didn't want the words to pollute its atmosphere, which suited me just fine. I didn't want to say them. I shook my head.
"Fine," he said. "Don't tell me, Ritsuka. But don't think that I don't know." He unfolded his arms and leaned forward, pointing his finger at me. "You and that pervert Soubi! I told him, I told him that it was only a matter of time. Damnit, he should've just come to me!" He placed a hand atop my head and the back of the other on his forehead, leaning back as though in despair. "Poor kid! The pervert hath alas captivated thine heart and seized thy virtue." He shook his head and returned to normal, shrugging off the matter. "Oh well. Would've happened eventually."
"Don't be so bold, Kio," I snapped. "You're the pervert for jumping to inappropriate conclusions." He lifted his eyebrows at my sudden hostility.
"Ritsuka." He squatted down to my level again, tilting his head to the side. "Why do you look so sad?"
I shook my head, my thoughts drifting back to our conversation at his house. "You know why," I said. He nodded solemnly.
"You know... it would hurt less to let it go. I'm not saying toughen up and get over it or anything heartless like that, just… let it go. Everything will be okay."
He seemed so sure of himself, which upset me even more. "You don't know that," I mumbled.
He ruffled my hair again, giving me a warm smile that somehow seemed smug. Like he was in on something I didn't know about. "Of course I know," he said.
Kio began walking again, but I made no move to follow. "Ja," he said, waving but never turning back around.
I began walking the opposite direction, and saw Youji and Natsuo coming my way, arms linked. My heart dropped somewhere around my lower intestines. I didn't think I could stand anymore human contact today, not to mention the fact that they wasted no time quickly pointing out what I really wished they would look over, as I knew they would.
"Ritsuka has no ears," Natsuo stated plainly.
Youji twitched in irritation. "No, he doesn't."
"How did this happen, I wonder." Another statement. I don't think the redhead expected an answer to his non-question, so I kept quiet. He seemed genuinely curious, though, thinking hard over the possible instances.
"Isn't it obvious, Natsuo? A certain someone got the perfect birthday present. I wonder who it was…"
"Yeah, I wonder…" Youji rolled his eyes. I blushed deep red at what he'd insinuated. Even if Kio had said the same thing, I knew he didn't actually believe it. These two were being dead serious. Did they really think I'd give my ears away at this age? Most unfortunately, Natsuo saw my reaction as a confession.
"Oh! Ritsuka, you sly bastard!" His face lit up as he smacked me on the shoulder. He beamed like it was the greatest news in the world, and for a second I thought he was going to... hug me or something. Then his smile suddenly evaporated.
"This isn't good, Youji," he said, turning to his companion.
"No, it isn't. We're the only ones left that have ears. I feel left out," he sulked.
"Yeah, me too." Natsuo pulled Youji's arm and began walking away. "I can't believe his were lost first. I'm jealous."
"I thought we'd had more time," Youji said. "We better hurry up. We can wish Soubi a happy birthday later."
They left me, shimmering out of sight in the dense fog that now floated above the ground. I looked about and couldn't see anything. On top of this new, ominous setting, I noticed with dismay that it was cold. Bitterly cold. I shook like an old man, my limbs jerking and muscles spasming in a futile effort to get warm.
When I jumped out of the window, I didn't really have a plan for where I'd go. I just wanted to be somewhere that Soubi was not. I, once again, left without a jacket like an idiot. I had no choice but to go home. I balked at the thought of going back to mom.
Upon walking through the door, I immediately noticed the profound silence that permeated throughout the house. The flood of relief that rushed through me was so intense, I had to close my eyes to savor the feeling. It was like the consistency of my blood had turned from lead and brick to feathers and silk. I exhaled contentedly, walking up the stairs to my room. The stairway felt like it was cushioned by clouds. The euphoria flowing through me chased away the outside chill and warmed my bones with sunshine.
So. I learned somewhere, in a science magazine or textbook or something, that if the sun ever stopped shining, it would take about eight minutes for us, the inhabitants of planet Earth, to know. When my metaphorical sun cut off, it took precisely four seconds. Three seconds for my brain to shut down from shock and reboot itself. One second for my eyes to absorb the image and for my brain to fire off its little neurons to register it.
"M-m-mom!" I stuttered. She sat on my bed holding a photograph of Soubi and me. It was the one from a while ago at the park. I was being piggy-backed, my arms draped loosely around Soubi's strong shoulders, my legs locked tightly around his waist. Even through my terror, my smile in the photo was so wide and goofy and filled with brazen happiness, it was embarrassing. Mother probably had never seen such a smile on the face of her Ritsuka. Probably never will. Yet some man, one she'd never seen before, could light up her son's face in such a way.
"Ritsuka," she said, then paused. She sounded like just saying my name caused her pain. She stood and looked at me through narrowed eyes. "You've been lying to me. For so long, you've been trying to trick me." She took a step closer. I didn't bother taking a step back. I had nowhere to run. "I thought at first you were just acting out because your brother left us. Now I know the truth." Another step closer. "You're just a bad boy, Ritsuka. You're an evil, rotten child, Ritsuka." She reached me where I stood, inches away. I couldn't help but flinch hard as her hand lifted to stroke my head. The soft touches confused me. Was I being loved? Was I being forgiven? Yes, I was a rotten, deceitful child, but was she saying she loved me regardless? No, I answered myself. No one could love me now.
She stared at me intently, but blankly. The only inkling I had that she was even still conscious was the movement of her arm and the fire in her eyes.
I felt sick. Sicker than sick. No word in any language has been invented to describe how violated I felt. I felt naked, exposed. Despite my recent bath, I felt like the epitome of filth. I inhaled a lungful of dirt and exhaled asbestos. She knows, I said to myself. She knows that I'm unclean. She knows that I'm tainted.
"Ritsuka," she said. "You've been very naughty." She used the hand that had been stroking me to grab my hair and throw me down. I tumbled in a clumsy heap to the floor. She stood over me, a hand covering her eyes. She took in a series of rough, shaky breaths before looking back at me. Tears streamed down her face. "And naughty boys must be punished!"
She darted over to the cork board on the wall that held all of my favorite pictures and yanked it off. She raised it high above her head and brought it back down on me. The photos fluttered off the board and fell all around me like snow. I curled myself into a ball, tucking my legs under me, making myself a smaller target. This left my head and back to take all of the damage. The wooden border connected with my spine and ribcage, knocking the wind out of me. I groaned and rolled helplessly to the side, leaving my shoulder open for attack. Mother took advantage of the newly exposed skin and brought the board down once again with frightening force.
With a loud crack, the corkboard snapped, one half hitting me in the ear. I could hear my heart beating right in my eardrum. The thumping didn't come close to drowning out mother's yells.
"See what you make me do? It's your fault! All of this is your fault! EVERYTHING! I knew I shouldn't have kept you. I knew it!"
Her primary weapon gone, she resorted to using her hands, slapping me repetitively until I grew dizzy, until my cheeks reddened. "I should've cut you out when I had the chance. See what pain you cause me? You're the worst, Ritsuka. You're a failure as a son!" Her open hands turned into closed fists. Instead of punches, she pounded on me like a hammer. Like she wished to reduce me to nothing. To erase me.
"Please," I begged. "Mom, please don't be mad. I'm sorry. Please, I'm sorry!" Unable to take another blow, I scooted quickly away from her. I stood and held my hands open before me. I prayed that they would magically provide me with a means to get away from here. Maybe a unicorn would materialize in front of me to carry me off. Or a wall would appear to shield me from her enmity.
When nothing came, I closed my eyes, hands and arms lying limp at my sides. I heard a crash to my left and didn't open my eyes. Something whizzed past my head, and still I did not open my eyes. She must be throwing things at me, I thought. I squeezed my eyes tighter to brace myself.
My eyes shot open in horror as a glass struck me in the forehead. Terror and panic blazed hot in every vein. The blood that trickled down my cheek boiled. She's trying to kill me! I screamed inaudibly. She really is trying to kill me! Oh, God, I don't want to die! I can't die!
I backed up even further until my back hit the solidity of my balcony door. I cringed into the smooth, cool glass, pressed myself into it, trying to somehow phase right through. Mother threw my wooden chair directly at me, only half of it actually connecting with my flesh. The other half, the legs and seat of it, crashed into the glass door. Glass shards ripped down my back as it shattered loudly. Impossibly loud. My ears rang as my body pulsed with pain. Even mother paused for a fraction of a second, but only that long. The destruction of her house fueled the fire of her anger towards me. Over and over she screamed, "I hate you I hate you I hate you!" Those words were poison.
"Please, mom, don't hate me," I said back. She didn't seem to hear; she just kept screaming. "Please! Mom, I love you! I'm sorry!" I said even louder. I was beyond desperate. My heart throbbed painfully in my chest. What could I say, what could I do, what could I scream that would make her stop saying those abhorrent words? The louder I got the louder she became in response. I could no longer hear my own voice. She went in full rampage mode, knocking over my dresser, my computer, my desk, my bookshelf. I covered my ears in hopes of blocking out the dissonance that now filled my world.
Warm hands covered my own, doing a much better job of quieting everything. Like magic, the world turned down its volume. Mom's violent rampage now only made a few occasional thumps. The hands removed themselves, taking my own with them. Soft lips brushed against my earlobe as a deep voice whispered, "Hear no evil."
As if his words were a spell, mother's image trembled, shivered, swayed, blurred, and finally disappeared right in front of my eyes.
He pulled me in close to his chest, like always not close enough. With my ear pressed against him, I could hear his heart beating, steady and strong. I could hear him breathe in and out, slow and contented. I could hear nothing else.
Is it okay? I mouthed, then pressed my lips into a hard line. I didn't want to ask. I didn't want to know. Soubi, is it okay… that I'm ruined?
He kissed my forehead, my cheek, my neck, my collarbone, my shoulder, my forearm. The palms of my hands. Each fingertip. A movement rumbled deep in my chest, choking up to my throat when he kissed my eyes and the tip of my nose. It may have been a laugh. Last, he kissed the top of my earless head. My heart swelled to burst at his wordless gesture. Without him saying anything, I already had my reply.
So when he opened his mouth to speak, I silently wished he would change his mind. After his actions, words seemed to be excessive. I wanted him to spend less time talking and more time kissing. It was a much better use for those lips.
He pulled me in even closer, so tightly that I couldn't look away even if I wanted to. His eyes were a mesmerizing blue, scorching and smoldering like flame. He began leaning toward me, his lips in a deliberate aerial path to mine.
Please, I pleaded desperately to no one. Please, please kiss me.
My eyes slid shut as his lips gently, just barely, touched mine. His arms wrapped securely around my waist. "You haven't been tainted, Ritsuka," he whispered on my lips. "You're flawless." As low as his voice was, his words seemed to echo off of the walls and houses and buildings and roads. He made no move to kiss me again, but I could still feel the moisture of his breath on my lips. Better than a kiss. I had been wrong. His words welded my broken pieces together again.
The warmth of his skin touching mine and the cool autumn air around me made me shiver. Soubi pulled away and grabbed my hand, intertwining his long, slender fingers with mine.
"Let's go home," I said. It didn't make a sound.
Um... well, I hope ya'll liked this chapter. I worked pretty hard on making it perfect. Speaking of perfection, you know what would make this little fanfic writer just the happiest tadpole in the pond? A beta. Yep... Not that I'm tired of editing my own stories, no of course not, just, I might miss something one day, and then where will we be? The world will remain unchanged, but I would never be able to forgive myself for a grammatical error or spelling mishap...
That being said, please note that this chapter is the second to the last of this particular story. That means one more post and we will be done. I'm a bit hazy on how to end "Lucky" because so much has happened so far in the story. What would give the readers ultimate satisfaction, but at the same time closure? I would not be at all offended if y'all would like to make suggestions. Don't be shy. I don't bite Sunday-Thursday. Who knows, maybe your idea will be orchestrated into chapter seven. And I'm pretty sure it's protocol to acknowledge who it is that helped out with a particular aspect, or else that'd be plagiarism. I wouldn't know. I'm pretty new to this.
Lastly, I must say this. Please, if you have one merciful bone in your body, do not let the words "Ritsuka is OOC" past your lips. Just don't do it. I will cry quarts, and use the saline moisture of my tears to water my grass. That sentence is worse than any other flame a reader can conjure. I did my best in factoring Ritsuka's dynamic personality into the situations I made, and well... I'm just not perfect. I'm no Yun Kouga, and I never will be. (Omg btw, my love for you is endless, miss yun! So hurry up and release volume 9 en englais, d'accord?) Yeah. So constructive criticism... I welcome it. Those brave enough to tell me where I could improve are greatly appreciado. But the accursed double-oh-ce word, I could do without. Thankya!
-KC