I Think We Have This Conversation Before (Special)

"Carry me home."

Xochitl hardly asked him that. She had long gotten over whatever fanfare of riding a motorcycle since middle school and now only looked at it indifferently. He looked at her, to better understand her sudden request. Alas, all he was privy to was her profile as she stared off into the crowd. He nodded, although he knew she didn't see it.

The ride to Naka-Meguro was a quiet one. Not that it was unusual. Xochitl had her bouts of silence and not enough peeling back her layers, and talks would change that. It was a part of her like everything else, like the blood in her veins, the hair on her head, and the vibrant colours of her huipils, like his sudden bursts of energy and his need for constant movement. Yet, they both accept these things within them, none the same. Baji had long since memorised her address—despite how few the invitations were. They lingered outside, just across her house, resting against the rails, even when she had said goodbye. Watching the twinkling of the lights from the neighbouring houses as though they were the most fascinating thing.

"Place your bike at the side of the house. Beside the bin."

Huh? He waited.

"Unless you want to park it in front of my neighbour's yard. I don't think they would mind, but I think Ma would notice…she's good like that."

He nodded. Baji believed words would fail him if he talked as he followed her instructions. The neighbour's shrubbery and her house had provided a perfect snicket as he placed his bike at the entrance, just behind the skip, any further down and he wouldn't be able to see his hands. Baji joined Xochitl at the door, looking over his shoulders at the slightest sound of a stray cat, rustling wind and the hushed music from neighbouring houses.

"My parents are out on a date, my older brother has hardly been home since graduating uni and the other—"(a shrug) "Beats me, probably out, but most likely inside."

She held the door open for him, closing it behind her. Baji tried to memorise the outlay of the room. However, with just the street light streaming in and Xochitl making no move to the switch, he thought (lamentably) that he had to do so another time.

"Ha, it seems the latter,"

He raised his brows confused. He doubted Xochitl saw it. She continued, attention trained on the getabako, "Ryu is home," a pause as she looked up and turned to him. Through the dimness, he caught a teasing smile on her lips. "I noticed he hasn't been staying in lately. I wonder if he got a sweetheart."

"About time, he's a senior," Baji replied as he carried his shoes in hand.

She laughed through her nose. From the light outside, he saw those familiar laugh lines, "What does being a senior in high school have to do with having a sweetheart?"

Baji shrugged, "Nothing. I just think it's natural for you to have one or two at that stage."

He only saw her profile. But he could see another curl of her lips. Which promised nothing but sweet-terrible things. He found himself donning one to match her own.

"So what does that say about me?"

"But don't you?"

A smile that showed teeth, and his heart grew wings. He leaned in, taking advantage of their now height difference.

"Ok, what about you?" Xochitl looked up. The shadows dyed her face a cool blue. He liked this colour on her.

"Well, I am not a senior." As soon as he said that she threw her head back and laughed. Some neighbour's light, perhaps a streetlight, maybe even the moon, highlighted her neck in mellow tones. He watched it deepen, then lightened as she turned this way and that way. Finally, it was gone, and all there was her damped eyes, filled with mirth and this other emotion. This emotion he has been finding lately—or rather— it finding him. He wished it stay, for it to grow, to chrysalis into —

"Gosh," she wiped away a tear, "I walked into that one."

Another shrug, feigning indifference. Baji hoped he looked cool.

Xochitl continued, still looking up at him as she fumbled with her room door. "So from that logic, you gonna move that number up the coming year?"

"I did say one."

"…"

"You did."

She closed the door behind them as she went to open the single window in her room, above her desk. A knee on the desk chair, she turned and pointed at him to place his shoes on one of the scanty shelves of her bookshelf. Baji always imagined how the inside of her room may be. He always thought it would be organised, Xochitl had that feel about her and perhaps filled with some trinket or some other novelty that may reveal some hidden side about her. However, her room was very much underwhelming. Baji admitted he had only one other comparison of a 'girl's room' and that was Emma (and that didn't count). Yet he could see how it was not, yet still, very much the same. It was like any other girls' place he supposed. After unlocking the windows and stepping down from the chair, she knocked over some CDs, some stationary, and a shrine of hurriedly tossed stuffed animals and plushies as she made her way over to her bed. Baji decided to make do on her faux carpet.

A ding and Xochitl searched her pockets. She flipped open her phone, and the light from the screen illuminated her face. A scoff followed by another ding. The room soon filled with her aggressively texting, and he soon found himself beside her, trying to pry. However, she clutched the phone closer to her face as she leaned back and lightly pushed him with her foot. Abruptly, she closed her phone and practically tossed it onto the floor.

"Nosey," she quipped at him. She continued to push him. He waited for her to continue.

"It's Ryu," (she snorted) "He said I'm being too loud. Hey, can you pass it back?"

He stretched his foot, and when he felt the phone with his heel, Baji pressed on it and drew it back until it was arm's length distant. He could hear Xochitl saying lazy, and he had to fight a snort. Baji handed it to her. By then, she lay flat on her back. The light washed her face in a pale white. She continued rocking him with her foot. He tried not to put too much weight on it.

Xochitl's texting and occasional snort and giggles from whatever her brother texted rented Baji's ears. He placed more weight on his side, letting Xochitl use two feet. Her paper bag khaki pants rolled down to reveal her ankles. He began to manipulate a pattern on it by pushing it back. Letting the light from the neighbour's backyard filter in. At times, it was a simple rectangular. Other times, it was a shapeless blob. If he were to press further down until her knees were almost in the middle of her body, it would take the design of the curtain pattern that was pushed to the side.

"Hey, when last have you heard from Mitsuya?"

"Today, what of it?"

A knowing smile. Xochitl shrug. "Nothing. Was curious, that's all." She, again, threw the phone on the floor it skeeter across to the bookshelf. "Ryu is such a—" she snorted, then it turned into that laugh that stayed only in the chest. "To think...jeez. Gosh!" She looked up at him, her face washed—again—in beautiful tones of blue and grey.

"What is it? What was it you two were talking about?"

She began to open her mouth, but only a peal of laughter escaped. "I can't. It's too good. Gotta keep it to myself. At least for a little while."

He nonetheless, continued to push. Driven by nothing but childish folly. Whatever, tentativeness from his youth (He was still young, barely yet out of his teens. So his earlier youth?) was gone. Xochitl would not have let him continue if she didn't want to. She had proven so countless times. Shutting down his jokes, his teasing his attempts of playfulness if she thought it crossed a line. Somewhere in his haggling, it had turned from a tousle (Baji minded not to put much strength in his punches) to a tickle fight. Not too long ago, he had stumbled on the fact that Xochitl was very ticklish, particularly at the sides. He tried not to indulge too much, as she had confessed to being overstimulated. Baji had once let slip that he found it odd that her greeting strangers with a kiss and dancing cheek to cheek didn't have the same result.

He still remembered the emotion on her face. (He recalled them all). The twist of painted lips and furrow of her brows.

"That's different," Xochitl said. That's all she offered to the argument. As if those simple words had held all the clarification there was.

The sole of her foot was pressed into his cheeks and Baji debated whether to stop or continue, but Xochitl made no attempts to stop him and he was very much enjoying the sounds of her laughter. He wanted to catch it and place it somewhere to listen to later, like a seashell to his ears. Ding and both of them turned to look at the phone on the floor. Xochitl was the first to look away, a tear slipping down to her ears. She removed her foot and he wished for the mood to return. However, it slipped quickly away and there was no point strangling with it. It's like a tightened fist around a fish, more strength for it just to go plop out your hand. Xochitl rested her legs on his lap, eyes to the ceiling as she played with a stray hair from her braids. Baji rested his hand on her calf.

"You're so mean," Baji teased. Through his peripheral, he waited for her reaction.

She hummed. "Am I?"

The curtain swayed in the cold night breeze and Baji was tempted to close the window. However, he liked the feeling, especially the little goosebumps.

Xochitl sat up, legs folded. A shadow of a smile danced on her face. It seemed almost fae-like and Baji waited (impatiently so) to see whatever it was his harasser had conjured up.

"I've been quite lenient with you. Especially tonight."

She let the words settle in between them. Her eyes never leave him. When last had she looked at him so long?

"I don't like to wear my outside clothes in my bed," pointing at him, her index finger pressing into his chest. "Take it off."

A bark from a neighbour's dog and the sound of the summer cicadas and passing vehicles. Baji got up. In this position, the light illuminates the entire left side of her face. Xochitl's eyes still not leaving his. The colour of pottery clay…he had never known how much tone there was of brown, from the mellow tone of clay to the beautiful terra-cotta colour, much like the brownish-orange of fall. He loved the sun-richened tan that clung to her skin in the summer. Even now, in the muted colours of the night. There is something under his skin, itching to pierce through. But recently, he had been trying to control those impulses. He was not so reckless as he was in middle school. However, if he was, what would his much younger self do? Baji refused to let the thought settle, afraid—no—tempted that if he entertained it any further. He might just do it.

Baji shrugged his jacket off. Then tugged off his shirt. He was very grateful that his arms didn't give him any trouble as he dropped the piece of clothing to the floor.

They said nothing.

Xochitl pressed herself forward. He mimicked her movement until he was hunched over her. He rested his arms on the wall while she looked up. His back hurt and she had yet to say anything. She has not moved to reach out. To touch—

Baji found himself wishing since. For one, Baji wished he had tied his hair back, he wished to shift to a more comfortable and he wished that she would do something. He could lean down and close the gap, but he would wait. Wait until she was comfortable, wait until she said so. He would wait for her. A warmth spread across his face.

"You look nice when you blush," she traced an invisible pattern between them. He watched the coloured bracelet slip down her hands. She reached up and brushed his hair behind his ears. "You look good like this."

...

Xochitl leaned back, taking him in. Comically, she tilted her head in her inspection. Baji couldn't hide his chuckle. She raised her brow quizzically but didn't press the matter.

"You filled out."

"An outcome from my extracurricular activity," said Baji with a hint of jest.

"You haven't given up on that huh? How is it?"

Xochitl was not interested in Toman. Their previous conversations had said so, her casual dismal of his invitations and her apatheticness when the topic is brought up. She disapproved of his activity—although she had not told him so. However, he knew. Like how they knew this chatter was to deter what was to come.

There are a lot of things that were unsaid between them. It didn't make sense to waste words on it. It was obvious! Like the signs of the changing seasons: when the cicada sings louder, the tones of red and orange of the coming of autumn, the cold death of it all. Then rebirth.

Like them.

Huh?

They haven't. Have they? Have there been any seal from the spoken words regarding them?

Baji pressed forward, and with it came rushing that impatience of his youth.

"You should do something by now."

Xochitl cocked her head. As if she couldn't be more of a tease, she brushed her foot on his thigh. His heart was a hummingbird, threatening to tear through his chest. Anyone else, and Baji would have just reached out and let his impulses take over. He had done so with his others, with Toman, with his friends. Yet, when it comes to her, he stops and thinks. To tear apart his impulsiveness and inspect it with great detail. To weigh each outcome and their separate interactions. He thought he was long past this. That he was more confident, more self-aware. Yet, he still froze up. Was it a good thing, shouldn't he be more relaxed around those he considered important?

He decided it would do no good to keep this within himself and instead put it out. "I'm nervous, whenever it comes to you. Why is it that you think?"

Something like a blush dyed her face. Xochitl tried hiding her face with her braids. She looked up, her eyes shifted from his cheeks, the space above his head, and then, finally, to his eyes.

"Why are you so honest? I envy you."

There she went contradicting herself, and he snorted.

She continued, "I think because you care much about my opinions about you," she played with her hands. "But seriously, how would I know? It's your feeling."

"That's true," Baji murmured to himself.

"Want to talk about it?"

He watched her watching him.

"Not now."

She simply nodded.

Xochitl pushed herself up, now sitting with feet beneath her. Letting Baji shift from his earlier position. She reached up, her hands on his shoulders, her eyes not leaving his.

"You still feeling nervous?"

"Yes."

"You want to continue?"

"Yes."

She nodded again as she shuffled forward. He waited with bated breath. She pressed her cheek against him, like those many people she danced with, before resting between the nook on his shoulder. He let himself brush her hair. He always liked how it felt, he told her this and she told him that he was the first. Others, along with herself, find it a bit coarse. She shifted to look up at him, if he just leaned down, their noses would brush and he did so. Her breath fanned against it, it felt weird, yet he dared not move.

"You only took off your shirt…I want the rest off." Xochitl's palm pressed flush against his chest. A shiver ran down his spine. This wasn't that. Was it?

Xochitl pulled back to watch his reaction. Her smile told him she was enjoying it and Baji wanted to return her the favour.

"You should follow your own rules."

A scoffed. "This is my room, I do what I want," she tapped his nose.

He raised his brow, with a hint of teasing in his tone, "You're just afraid, that's what I think," he brushed his thumb against her before trailing across closing the distance from her lips. He always liked how the top was darker than the bottom, the mismatched colour of blushing-brown boat orchids and hazel fay.

She lifted her head, one hand on his that was tracing a pattern on her cheek. "I know what you're doing. Stop your delaying."

"Now, this isn't fair, is it?"

"You did say I was mean."

Baji laughed through his nose as he leaned in her touch, his fingertips a breadth away from her lips. He mouthed the words 'You did'. However, she didn't react to it. She pushed back, giving him room and Baji regretted that she did.

Hands made do with his belt, the warmth spreading from his face to his chest. Finished with the buckles he made for pulling out when light from the room outside streamed under her door. Followed by chatter and laughter. A woman's voice, that sounded familiar filled the house. He heard it before, from the many festivities held at El Báquico, she was one of the many guest singers. None of them move. Xochitl continued to stare at him, her face showing no acknowledgement of the movements outside her door. Her eyes edged him to continue and he would too but there was a knock at the door. A man's voice, deep and husky from too many cigarettes Baji deciphered. He called her and she continued to look at him. The man was soon gone to be replaced by another. In Spanish, she called at Xochitl and finally, she reacted to the obtrusion. She sighed, staring up.

Xochitl muttuerd, "Esta noche no es nuestra noche." She got up, finger pressed to lips for him to be quiet before slipping outside.

Baji heard chatter in Spanish and Japanese. They were also trying to wrestle her brother out of his room, although, it seemed they all failed to do so. He sat, feeling a bit dumb to just stand waiting. Finally, he let himself breathe, to take in everything that had happened. Head in hand, he looked at his discarded shirt and jacket. He then re-adjusted his belt, flushing brightly doing so. He laughed dryly. What were they thinking?

Albeit, deep, deep, down, he wished it had played through. He lay flatly on the bed, his hands retracing Xochitl's pattern. The door opened, and he reacted instantly, sitting upright. Calming down at the mocking smile of Xochitl. Closing the door and switching the lamp on, she sat beside him. A flavorful aroma of spices filled the room.

"Food?" She offered.

In her hands was a plate with an open file wrapper. Two flat pieces of bread, creamy-butter chicken and a container of rice.

"Roti," she explained, pointing at the bread. "Here we can make a wrap, like a burrito–oh wait!" she got up, placing the food on the bedside table. She searched her scattered CDs. Satisfied with a pick, she wiped it on her shirt before placing it in her radio. The sounds of Juan Gabriel (he had heard enough of him at El Báquico to recognise his voice even if he was zipping by on his bike—passing the speed limit—and it was only a single chord. A god, he heard the manager call the singer) and rented out the room. She turned the volume down until it was enough to drown their chatter.

Baji followed Xochitl in making a wrap. However, as the chicken continued to come loose, she laughed.

"Sorry, I could only carry one cup. You can drink from the bottle and me from the cup."

"Or we shared."

She only shrugged in response, pouring the drink into the cup, and they two took turns sipping. Finished, Xochitl offered him wipes and sanitiser as they lay in bed, he decided not to put on his shirt, the night air began to become humid and she refused to get up to turn on the fan or the air-conditioner, the remote was too far, she grumbled. Baji offered but she also shot that down.

"No. Not when I found a perfect spot," she looked up, her hair tickling his chest. In the end, he relented. How could he argue at that? They took turns mapping patterns on their arms. The sound of the mariachi from one of Juan Gabriel's songs, he believed was the live performance of Hasta Que Te Conocí—one of his—favourites hummed in the background.

Baji woke first, then Xochitl. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes whilst he got dressed. He went for his shoes after she told him it was best he put them on now. She reached for the door, but he stopped her.

"Best if I go through the windows."

A look of worry was on her face, "Are you sure, the door is just there."

He shrugged. "Don't want to take any chances."

With a sigh, she agreed. The way down wasn't as bad, he had seen worse. He has done worse. Halfway through the window, he paused.

Her hands were on his shoulders, "Free this Saturday?"

Huh? He looked away momentarily, distracted by rustle. The neighbours were beginning to wake. He hoped they wouldn't see him. Would they tell her parents? He hoped he hadn't gotten her in any trouble.

"Yes, I guess so, Why?"

"I want you to meet my parents."

Oh. Ah. He blushed. Baji wanted to feign nonchalance but decided otherwise. However, that childfulness, that impulsiveness that still gets him in trouble, peeked through at the end. "Haven't I met them before?"

Xochitl scoffed rolling her eyes. Flicking him on his forehead. "You know what I mean."

He finally lets up, chuckling as he does so. "Ok, I will. See you later."

She smiled. She let her hands linger on his shoulder. Bracing himself, he pushed off, landing in the shrubbery below. He heard her gasp and he quickly reassured her with a thumbs up. He made his way down the wall, to the narrow passageway between her house and the neighbours. Down here, Xochitl could no longer see him and him her.

Brushing his hair back into his hairband, Baji made his way towards his bike.

He stopped. Shocked. Perhaps, a bit flustered. He wanted to talk but all he could do was grin.

Mitsuya was the one to break the silence."Have you had your fill now?" he brushed past him towards his bike.

If only Baji had hidden his bike at the back he would noticed there was another.

"Where you come from?"

"The front door," Mitsuya said frankly.

Baji quickly went for his bike, trying to match his friend's strides as they pushed their bikes down the street. How lucky was it that he suggested going through the window, it would be too awkward meeting her brother and Mitsuya at the door. Aha! Baji gasped. She knew, the giggles the text? Gosh, she was always such a tease.

"How long—"

"Shut up, don't tell the others about this okay," said Mitsuya, practically scolding him. He sounded like his mom.

He raised his hands in surrender, the grin hurting his cheeks. "Aight gotta keep it to myself. At least for a little while."

Mitsuya huffed (when was the last time he saw the other boy behaving so childish?). He wanted to push further, to see how many other colours his friends could turn from his question but the other boy quickly got on his bike and drove away. Baji soon followed suit, no longer holding back his laughter, letting it echo throughout the neighbourhood.

Sorry for the lack of update but I am busy with uni. I decided a little special, showing Xochitl and Baji's interaction in the future in one of the many possible timelines would be a nice gift (although, a real chapter would have been nicer...sorry). I hope you enjoyed this little special. I will try to update before the year-end!