Hey, everyone! It's been a while, hasn't it? Comes with settling in to college. I'll try harder to get more written, but the truth is that you may be looking at sparse releases until summer - although I imagine you all are used to long periods with no releases from me... orz.
Anyway, this is about half - maybe 1/3 - of Chapter 6. It's nowhere near ready to be posted, but hey - today is Luka's birthday, and I'd feel bad if I just let it pass.
There was certainly something to be said for living by the sea, Luka thought as her eyes drifted open. The bedroom window looking out over the cove had been thrown wide, letting in the sweet breeze that had awoken her; playful and warm, the gust of wind stirred the strands of hair on her pillow as it danced through the room and into the kitchen. Luka sat up, letting the soft sheets fall from her shoulders, and stifled a yawn with the back of her hand. The bandage on her finger was stained a dark brown, but no blood seemed to have leaked through overnight; still, she checked the sheets just in case.
There was a knock on the doorframe, and Luka smiled as Ruko stuck her head into the room. "Gooood morning, birthday girl!" the dark-haired woman exclaimed, rounding the corner. "Spent long enough in bed?" She crossed the white tile floor in a few steps, throwing herself onto Luka's bed.
"Oh no you don't," Luka said, getting up to tug at her. "I don't know how much coffee you put away this morning, but if I let you get back in bed you'll be out like a light." Ruko rolled off the bed, landing easily; she adopted a hurt expression, crossing her arms over her breasts.
"I would never," she said. "Well, okay, yes, I would, but not today! I'm still working on your present," she confided, a little embarrassedly. "It's… taking a little longer than I would've liked, but everything should be ready by tonight."
"I can't wait," Luka said, smiling. She stepped forward to give Ruko a hug. "Have you seen Gakkun yet today?"
"Yeah, I ran into him earlier," Ruko replied, sighing happily into Luka's shoulder. "He's helping me with the present, actually." She paused, then pulled away from Luka. "Did… something happen between you two?"
"Kind of," Luka admitted. "Nothing bad," she hastened to add, at Ruko's expression. "Just… the air's been cleared now, I guess."
Ruko nodded thoughtfully to herself. "Yeah," she said, after a moment. "He looked really happy, is why I asked. Happier than I've seen him for a long time. Maybe ever."
"Maybe," Luka agreed. She let Ruko go and turned to the wardrobe. "Sorry to rush; I've gotta go up to the compound." Ruko leaned on the windowsill as Luka pulled her shirt over her head; last night's black silk pooled like a liquid shadow around her feet. "That is, if you think Al-san will even let me in to see Miku?"
"If he won't, there's probably a good reason for it," Ruko said quietly, playing with the lacquered white shutters. "Important music-producy business to attend to, you know?" She turned around as Luka adjusted the straps of her light cotton sundress, tugging the cream-colored material higher up her chest. "Every third sentence or so last night was an 'Oh, by the way, we didn't invite you guys'."
"Trust me, I'll be asking about that," Luka declared, running a brush haphazardly through her hair. "How's that look? Presentable, at the very least?"
"You look fine, Luka," Ruko said, smiling as she leaned back against the windowsill. The wind caught at her pigtail and blew a strand of hair into her mouth; she made a face and spit it out, then frowned at Luka for laughing. "See if I ever compliment you again," she muttered.
"I wouldn't blame you at all if you didn't," Luka replied, struggling to keep a straight face. She stepped out into the kitchen, looking back at Ruko; when the dark-haired woman made no move to leave, she shrugged. "I'll be back soon, okay? And don't worry, I won't peek at my present."
"You'd better not," Ruko called after her. After a moment, the sound of Luka's footsteps on the boardwalk faded away, and Ruko sighed. She stood, turning to look out the window again. "Time to get back to work," she murmured, swinging the shutters closed.
Luka's feet sank almost immediately into the powder sand as she stepped off the last buried plank of the boardwalk. The layer of hot sand on top gave way to the cool sand below, and Luka dug her feet around for a moment, savoring the sensation. She was a little surprised to see other people on the beach; other guests, she supposed, and avoided making eye contact with any of them. The fact that most of them were graying, slightly overweight men helped in this regard; but anyway, it was difficult enough justifying her presence here to herself. Having to explain it to someone whose swimsuit cost more than she made in a year wouldn't help at all.
The lanterns from last night were still up, Luka noticed as she stepped into the forest. Of course, they would have to be lit again tonight; but it ruined the illusion a little, seeing them in broad daylight like this. Black-clad servants, none of them betraying a hint of discomfort in the summer heat, moved from tree to tree, replacing the tiny candles that had burned down to lumpy little mountains of wax over the night. Luka waved at a group of them; she was lucky to get a nod in response, and many ignored her entirely.
"Oh, Luka-san," Al called, surprised, as she crested the hill. The big man paused in his work – running a well-kept hand mower across already immaculate lawn – and ran an arm across his forehead, wiping sweat away from his scar. "What brings you up here? Would you like some lunch?"
"No, that's fine, Al-san," Luka replied, waving a hand. "I was actually hoping you could show me the way to Miku…-san's room," she said, stopping at the edge of the stone path. "I'd like to talk to her."
Al sighed, setting his lawnmower down. "I'd love to, miss, but Lady Hatsune is talking with her daughter at the moment. It's more than my job is worth to interrupt, even for a guest's sake." He shrugged helplessly. "If you'd been called up by the young mistress, it would be a different story, but—"
"I was," Luka replied immediately, plunging into the baldfaced lie with absolutely no shame. "Last night, Miku-san said she wanted to tell me something, but she didn't get the chance, so she asked me to come by today when I woke up." There… at least that wasn't entirely untrue. Just mostly. Luka blinked as Al smiled, wiping his hands on a rag from his pocket.
"Well, if that's the case, it can't be helped, miss," he said, taking the stairs up to the front door. "If you'll come with me, I'll take you to the young mistress' room right away."
Far be it from her to argue with results like that, but Luka still felt a little strange as she followed the burly manservant back into the twisting halls of the Hatsune compound. Seeing the building's interior in the daytime didn't change its atmosphere much, if at all; there were no windows, and the shoji to the outside were few enough that only isolated patches of space were lit by anything brighter than the lanterns on the walls.
"It's just around this corner, miss," Al said after some time and a truly staggering amount of turns. He indicated a smallish shoji door, Miku's name inscribed in the corner in understated letters. "If you'll wait outside here, I'm sure that—" He broke off as a muffled shout sounded from behind the door.
"I can't believe you, Mother! You really have no faith in me. Is it so hard to believe –" Instead of the chill anger Luka had heard on the train three months ago, Miku's voice now held heat; she sounded on the edge of tears.
"Yes, it is." To contrast, Hatsune Yosoko's voice was carved from ice, and it slid under Luka's skin like a knife. "You have proven untrustworthy in the past – you have proven untrustworthy even now, bringing guests despite our explicit request that –"
"Explicit command, you mean?" Miku replied, her tone flirting with the edge of scorn. There was a palpable pause, and Luka's gaze flickered to Al. He was expressionless, and he gazed fixedly at a point on the wall behind her.
"If you wish," Yosoko replied finally. Her voice was stronger now, and Luka guessed she was no more than ten feet from the door. "If it becomes necessary. You do not quite grasp what is at stake here–"
"So it comes back to that, Mother," Miku cut in. A soft thump filtered through the door; someone had stamped a foot. "I knew that was always your highest priority. Ever since—"
"Don't you dare—" Yosoko hissed suddenly. Miku raised her voice to shout over her.
"Ever since what happened to Mikuo," she began again. There was a sharp sound, the slap of flesh on flesh, and then dead silence. Luka took a step toward the door, but Al was already there, sliding the door open and bowing in the same motion.
"Forgive my intrusion, young mistress. Megurine-san to see you, as you asked," he said, keeping his eyes on the floor. After a moment, he looked up, and Luka nearly bought the look of surprise on his face as he pretended to have just arrived. It couldn't have been too hard to fake.
Miku stood in the center of the room, wearing a light yukata; she had a hand pressed to her cheek. Yosoko had turned away as the door opened, and now resolutely refused to face the intruders; she held her right hand some distance away from her body, curled as if it stung. There was a moment of silence.
"Ah, yes, thank you, Al-san," Miku replied hastily, looking over his shoulder at Luka. "I—"
"That will be all," Yosoko said quietly, stepping briskly across the floor. She didn't look at her daughter. "Al, come with me."
"Right away, my lady," Al replied immediately, bowing again and following Yosoko from the room. He cast a brief glance at Luka as he slid the shoji shut, but she couldn't tell what he meant by it. It might not even have been intended for her.
"Are you alright?" Luka asked after a moment, turning to face Miku. The younger girl hadn't moved from her place; it was hard to tell if she had breathed. The handprint on her cheek was beginning to fade away, but four small spots of blood marked her skin where Yosoko's nails had caught. She paid little attention to it, though, and took a seat at a writing desk on the far wall.
"I'm… I'll be okay," she replied slowly. "She didn't hit me that hard." She seemed to remember herself after that, springing up from the chair. "Oh, sorry! Here, sit down. I can sit on the bed." She did as she said, hopping up onto a luxuriously-appointed four-poster bed in Britannian style. Luka took the offered seat, frowning at the green-haired girl.
"That wasn't what I meant," she said, pulling the chair out from the desk and setting it to face Miku. She sat down again, putting her eyes on about the same level as Miku's; their gazes did not meet. "What were you fighting about?"
Miku sighed, flopping backward onto her bed. Luka waited patiently, and eventually Miku raised a hand, pointing at the canopy stretching overhead.
"I never liked this color," she said, letting her hand fall back down. "I wanted a darker green, but by the time I saw the bed, they had already decided what color it was going to be."
Luka opened her mouth, and Miku sat up, leaning over to pat the dresser next to the bed. "This, too," she said. "Hideous, isn't it? Some kind of Romain design, says Mother, very expensive of course. But it's ugly," she said disbelievingly. She stood, crossing the room to a long vanity, the surface of which was covered with stuffed animals. "Even these. I didn't choose a single one of them – which isn't to say that I don't love them," she added hurriedly, patting the animals' heads, "uh, that is– uh – well, you know what I mean," she finished lamely, blushing.
"No, I don't, Miku-chan," Luka broke in, standing. "I don't understand what you mean. Do you want to tell me this time, or are you just going to evade the question, like last night?" She laid a hand on Miku's shoulder, feeling the tension in the muscles under her skin.
"…No…no, I promised you an explanation, and you'll get one," Miku said finally, turning away. "Come on, sit down. It's a long story." She pulled Luka along with her, and they sat down on the bed. It was ridiculously soft, but Miku held her balance with the ease of long experience.
"My parents… are very rich," Miku began, after a moment. "They hold joint CEOship of Hatsune Records, one of the largest recording and music distribution studios in the world, as well as numerous other businesses and satellite corporations." She seemed enthralled by the light pattern on the hem of her yukata, and she traced it with a fingertip as she spoke.
Luka waited, taking a good look around the room as she did so. It was appointed in Western fashion, though there was no carpet, and it felt little-used – moreso than any of the other preternaturally clean rooms. Those felt like they were cleaned after something had happened to dirty them. This felt like it was kept up like a museum exhibit.
"Each of my parents receives an annual salary of twenty billion yen," Miku continued in the same flat tone, "not counting stock holdings, bonuses, growth of existing assets, and other sources of income. In reality, it's more like forty billion each per year." She looked up at Luka through a curtain of bangs, eyes wide. "I'm not trying to brag or anything, Luka-san," she said hurriedly. "I just want you to understand.
"I want you to understand that I'm very important to my parents. Or rather…" she paused. "What I am is very important to my parents." Miku shook her head, sending her hair out in a fan. "I'm their only child now."
"Then, Mikuo was the brother you mentioned earlier," Luka murmured, glancing back at the door. Yosoko was gone, of course, but mentioning the name was obviously taboo. "Is… was he…?"
Miku stood in one motion, seemingly unable to sit still anymore. She turned and grabbed Luka's hand. When Luka looked up, the girl's green eyes were glimmering.
"That's right," Miku said, fairly grinning. "I have an older brother who was supposed to take over the company when he graduated business school four years ago."
"What happened to him?" Luka asked, confused by the grin. Miku's hand was hot in hers, and it was distracting for some reason.
"Well, he graduated with the highest degree they could give him," Miku replied. "Everything was set for the transfer of power." She let go of Luka's hand and started pacing in a little oval, unable to contain her excitement. "But he didn't want to take the company. Instead, he flew to the Middle Countries – apparently he had already become a citizen – and he runs a pottery shop there! He still writes to me," she added, "but he hasn't spoken to our parents in years." She sighed, returning to the chair. When she spoke again, much of the energy that had animated her was gone.
"I'm… really happy for Mikuo-oniichan," she said. "But my parents disowned him, and everything that he was going to be… is on my shoulders now. I'm the future of Hatsune Records now. My class schedule for the next eight years has already been worked out – I'm going to major in international business and economics, then transfer to a prestigious business school run by a friend of my mother's once I graduate. They let me take Voice because I wouldn't agree to it otherwise," she remarked, her lips pressed tightly together. "This is my last really free vacation. They'll make sure I don't bring any friends next time."
"I…" Luka began, making to stand up. Miku held up a hand, stopping her.
"Not sure what to say?" she finished for the older woman, obviously forcing herself to smile. "It's okay, Luka-san. Just say I'm being selfish." She blinked, and there were tears in her eyes now, though her smile and her voice remained steady. "I brought you all with me because I didn't want to face my parents alone, and because I knew bringing people would annoy them. I don't have the courage to do what Mikuo did, so I do things like this – stupid little things that do nothing but annoy my parents and make things worse." She shook her head again. "It was all for my own sake. I didn't think of what you guys would think at all, I just dragged you out here. I even lied to you." She stood, offering Luka a hand up. "And you know, even telling you all this stuff is just to make myself feel better too. I really am selfish—"
Luka took Miku's hand and stood, pulling the smaller girl into a hug. She tensed immediately, instinctively trying to pull away, and Luka reached up a hand to stroke her hair. "I'm not happy about being lied to," she said quietly. "But I understand. I also understand that no matter what you think yourself, you're not telling me because you're selfish, or to make yourself feel better. You're telling me because you need a friend," she continued, keeping up a soothing rhythm. "That's all. That's all." After a long moment, Miku's arms wrapped around her, and Luka held her tightly as her shoulders shook.
"Feeling better?" Luka asked, after a while. Miku nodded, pulling slightly away from her. She scrubbed at her eyes, and when she dropped her hands Luka saw that she was smiling again – actually smiling this time.
"Thanks, Luka-san," Miku said softly. "I'm… really glad I met you, you know? You've been a really good friend to me. I… someday I want to be able to return the favor."
"You already have," Luka replied, matching her smile. "I'm your friend, which means that you're my friend – and that puts us even, doesn't it?"
Miku stared at Luka for a moment, then leapt at her, hugging her again. Before Luka could react, though, Miku had spun around behind her and taken her by the shoulders. She steered her senior over to the door, sliding it open with a foot. "I still have a lot of stuff to do before tonight, so you need to go away now," she said, smiling secretively. "Luka-san, have you finished your mask yet?"
"Um," Luka replied. Miku tsked, laying a hand on Luka's face.
"You need to hurry up, then," she chided. "Dinner's at sundown, and then the party starts! You don't have all that much time left."
"I know, I know," Luka muttered, long-suffering tone not matching her smile. "I'll get it done, don't worry." She stepped across the threshold, pausing to rather belatedly slip her shoes off as a passing servant looked pointedly at her. "I'll see you then, okay?"
"Definitely," Miku replied. "Oh, wait!" She disappeared back into the room, and Luka heard the sound of a drawer opening. The younger girl reappeared a second later, carrying a wrapped package. "I know it's a little early, but happy birthday," she said, smiling almost self-consciously. "Be sure to open it when you get back to your room – oh, and talk to Gakupo-san too. He has the other part of it." Her hands free, Miku sort of hovered by the door, half leaning on the frame and half not. "I hope you like it," she finished, after a moment.
Luka smiled, giving Miku a hug made awkward by the package. "I'm sure I will." Miku grinned, then firmly steered Luka out of the room. "I'll see you tonight, Luka-san. Now shoo! I'm very busy still." The door slid closed, and Miku's shadow on the thin paper grew indistinct and vanished as she padded back into the depths of her room.
Luka bent to pick up her shoes in her free hand, padding in socked feet down the twisty hallways. Even without Al, it seemed like she had subconsciously picked up the turns; she was out in the early-afternoon sun again in almost no time at all.
"Finally done," Ruko grumbled, setting her scissors aside for the last time. "Whose idea was it to put so much embroidery on this damn thing…?"
"I will do you a favor and not answer that," Gakupo replied, smiling softly. He reached for the finished product, paused, then picked it up at Ruko's nod. "Your craftsmanship is astonishing, Ruko-san. I wasn't aware that you had this amount of talent."
"Come on, Gakkun, don't say things like that," Ruko said, taking it gently from his hands. "It's not that. I'm usually no good at this kind of thing. It's just… it's just that…"
As Ruko spoke, a wave kicked up against the piers below, spraying beads of water into the sunset-colored air. They caught the light from the sun over the horizon and blazed into color, burning brightly before splashing down into dark wet spots on the smooth wood of the banister and the deck. If Gakupo reacted to the words at all, he said nothing. Instead, after a moment's silence, he stood.
"The dance will begin soon, Ruko-san," Gakupo said quietly, sliding the door to the patio closed. "You should hurry."
"I know," Ruko said, wrapping paper rustling in the sudden absence of the swish of surf. "Thanks for letting me work in here, Gakupo. It'd be bad if Luka saw, so…"
"Not at all," Gakupo deflected, waving a hand. He turned back to the door; the sun was just going down, and as the last sliver of fire dipped below the trees, the hillside burst into light as the lanterns were lit. A cheer floated across the water, dimmed by distance and glass. Gakupo took a deep breath.
"Ruko-san—" he began, turning. But she was already gone, hurrying down the boardwalk into the cove. Gakupo watched her figure, vague in the encroaching twilight, vanish into the farthest cabana from shore. He sighed, then turned away, pulling his shirt over his head.
So there you have it. The rest of the chapter will be posted as 6-B, rather than edited in like I did with Chapter 4.
Notes!
I don't think there's anything really specific I need to mention here. Mikuo is, of course, Miku's genderbent variant; in this story, he's her older brother. The Middle Countries are China, I think, though I haven't really decided much about this world aside from what's pertinent to the characters. Maybe some other time.
Anyway, please look forward to Chapter 6-B, which will finish this arc, most likely. I'll see you all then!