Chapter XXXVI: No Shadow of Another Parting
so close that your hand upon my chest is mine,
so close that your eyes close with my dreams.
Laughter. A peal of it, golden and bell-like, coming from the room at the far end of the hallway.
Tadao stopped to listen—there was no doubt it was her.
All this time, he'd wanted to hear her laughter; hearing it now gave him a small pang in his heart. She'd never laughed like that at school, not in all the time he'd known her.
All of a sudden, the pile of paper in his arms felt unaccountably heavy.
He'd volunteered to take her schoolwork to her. Someone had to do it. He knew it would only fan the rumors of him dating Kyoko, but he didn't particularly care. Of course there would be rumors—he'd been Romeo opposite her Juliet! He'd princess-carried her to the infirmary!
He wished there were more truths behind those rumors, but…the miracle hadn't happened. Her response to his confession had been definitive. Nevertheless, he counted himself lucky in not having lost her friendship or her good regard. She hadn't avoided him after he'd spoken—if anything, she'd been more attentively friendly towards him, almost as if she hadn't wanted to hurt him any more than she already had. She'd taken to calling him Tadao-kun, and now he was calling her Kyoko-chan—though he knew many others in their class also called her Kyoko-chan. He knew he shouldn't ask for more, but in his heart of hearts he hadn't completely given up. Kyoko had been so sad in the days preceding her collapse. She wasn't loud or flashy about it, but that haunted look in her eyes—it made him wonder if that person had broken her heart. If that person truly loved her, would she have looked like that?
Perhaps…just perhaps there was some room to hope.
And, anyway, he wanted to see how she was doing.
…The fact that he was carrying a small bouquet of yellow roses had nothing to do with the feelings he still had. In fact, he'd made sure to get it right—yellow roses were for friendship, because he and Kyoko Mogami were friends. Right?
The laughter was followed by the muffled sound of her voice, melodic, carefree, and happy…and then another voice, deeper, answering it.
He walked closer—close enough to hear the indistinct tones resolve into words.
"Check!" She sounded exultant.
Tadao rounded the corner and found himself looking into a large, cheerful room, cozy and warm even in November. There was a large window with a gorgeous view of the river, couches and tables, a bookshelf full of books—an ikebana arrangement made with curly willow and dried berries on a vine, prominently displayed in an alcove on the facing wall.
Kyoko was lit by the afternoon sun, her golden eyes flashing. She looked happy and healthy, much better than the last time he'd seen her. The circles under her eyes had faded, there was color in her cheeks. She looked less gaunt. She was sitting at a large, square kotatsu in the middle of the room, smiling at the chessboard on it. In her hands, she held aloft a black rook—and she was grinning.
He would've stared at her indefinitely…but then he heard him.
"I let you take that rook." The voice was dark and low and—Tadao gulped—uncomfortably seductive.
He found his eyes drawn to a figure sitting under the kotatsu with her, a man answering Kyoko's grin with a mischievous smile. He was leaning back into a cushion and gazing at her with obvious adoration. The sight of him gave Tadao a small jolt.
Oh.
Oh.
Tadao gulped. So this must be *him,* then, he thought. That person. Kyoko's mystery love. The one who hadn't been there during her star turn in the class play. The one who she'd rejected him for.
To his dismay, the man was shockingly good-looking. Like a movie star, perhaps, with stylish black hair framing an angular face. He was muscular, dressed all in black and wearing some oddly-fashioned sweater featuring a zipper across its bias. Even from his place by the entryway, he could tell that the man was tall—taller than he was, and he was one of the tallest guys at school.
He felt like an idiot. Why had he brought her roses?
The tall man grabbed his bishop and then looked down at the table, pausing for effect. His elegant hands fidgeted with the piece. "Besides," he said, and then placed it back on the board with a resounding plop. "There we go," he said smugly.
She chortled. Tadao heard it and wondered where her restraint had gone. She sounded…positively girlish. She never laughed like that at school. "HA!" she said. "I was gonna ask if you were sure about that, but it's too late."
"Wha—? Oh." Tadao nearly laughed as the man looked down at his pieces again. Dismay overtook the smug smirk on his face. The man paused, sighed. He flicked his king over with refined grace. "Ugh. Fiiiiiiine. I concede. You win. Checkmate."
"Hey!" she said. "You had a few moves left!"
"With one inevitable conclusion, Kyoko." Kyoko, Tadao thought. With no honorifics.
"You could have given me the joy of seeing you try," she teased. Tadao's mouth nearly dropped open. She was teasing him! Kyoko-chan! Teasing!
"Now that would just be cruel, madam," the man said. "You are not a cat. You shouldn't play with your food."
"Hardly." She stuck out her tongue. "Besides, you won the last game."
The man chuckled. "Best of three?"
A gentle, fond smile this time. She was looking into his eyes when she said, "Best of three."
A pause. And then, to his horror, they looked like they were going to kiss each other. He felt like the worst kind of voyeur, but it was now or never—if he didn't interrupt, he'd find himself awkwardly handing the papers to Fuwa-san and running off, face red with mortification.
Courage, dude, Tadao thought to himself. He knocked on the hallway wall, making himself known.
Kyoko sprang away from that person, a blush blooming on her face.
"Ojamashimasu," he called out, and then walked into the room.
"Tadao-kun!" She smiled at him with a smile so bright it blinded him. "It's so good to see you—"
He was glad he'd never seen her smile like that at school. It would have been overwhelming. He forced himself to speak. "I'm glad to see you looking better, Kyoko-chan," he choked.
"I'm doing much better, thank you. I'm sorry to have caused so much trouble," she said. "They discharged me from the hospital a few days ago."
"We were so glad to hear it," Tadao said. "We've all been hoping for your quick recovery—"
The pleasantries died in his throat, because that person was scowling at him.
Kyoko gave the man a sidelong glance and then stood up from under the kotatsu. "I'm sorry, Tadao-kun," she said with a perfect bow. "Forgive his rudeness—" She made eye contact with the mysterious man again and smirked. "He's just cranky because I just utterly demolished his defense."
That person snorted. Kyoko ignored him, but a mild panic overtook her features as the man got up off the floor. "Oh! I'm so sorry, let me introduce you," she said. "Tadao-kun, please, meet my—" boyfriend, he was sure she was going to say boyfriend.
But the man interrupted her, getting up, striding over and giving him a polite, if overly formal, bow. "Cain Heel," he said, "hajimemashite." His manners were perfect, his voice perfectly modulated. The scowl had gone, replaced by a model-perfect smile that did not reach his eyes. Tadao felt the man looming over him. He was so tall that Tadao needed to tilt his head upwards to meet his eyes. Green eyes, he noted. Piercing green eyes. Like a lion—one that was stalking him, considering whether or not it wanted to eat him for dinner.
"Tadao Mori," he said. Tadao returned his bow and held his ground. "Yoroshiku onegaishimasu."
"Cain," Kyoko said. She said it slowly, as if she were tasting the word for the first time. "Cain, Tadao-kun played Romeo during our Cultural Festival. He's also the president of our class—he's been a good friend to me."
Suddenly he found himself in the crosshairs of those eyes, which narrowed subtly as Kyoko introduced him. He was being assessed anew—he felt a bead of sweat form at the back of his neck. "Thank you for taking care of my Kyoko," Cain said. The girl in question gave Cain another sidelong glance—was it reproach he saw in her gaze? He saw a flicker of something on Cain's face as the man noticed. But all he said was…"I am forever in your debt, Mori-san."
"Of course, Heel-san," Tadao said. "It was nothing." The air in the room crackled with tension. Cain was clearly a possessive man. He wasn't a confrontational kind of guy, but something bothered him about this Cain Heel's obvious jealousy. If he cared so much, why had Kyoko-chan been so sad? And where had he been during the Cultural Festival? Tadao knew he would never miss his girlfriend's star turn in a play. Or let her get so sick she collapsed.
"Nevertheless, Tadao-kun," Kyoko interjected. "I'm very grateful. I heard you carried me into the infirmary."
"Anyone would've done it," he said. "I just happened to be right there. And…anyway. I—I brought some materials from Tanabe-sensei. And everyone sends their regards, of course. Here—"
She held out her hand for the papers. "Thank you," she said. She rifled through them for a second, but he cleared his throat.
"And these are for you, too. From me," he said, and then kicked himself. Why had he felt the need to tell her the roses were from him? It would've been less embarrassing to tell her they were from the class. "A wish for you to get well soon."
"Oh!" she said. She blushed. "Thank you—truly, you didn't have to—"
He smiled and made an effort to laugh. "Least I could do," he said. "So…" He stood awkwardly, his hand on the nape of his neck. "Tanabe-sensei says he wants you to get your strength back up. He and the other teachers sent you the things you missed and then the work for the upcoming week. I'm sure you'll be caught up in no time. Oh! And I added a copy of my class notes, too. "
"That's so thoughtful of you," she said. "I truly appreciate it."
"Anything for my Juliet," he responded. It was a petty thing to say, and he knew it. 'My' Kyoko, indeed! He saw Cain shift subtly. Ha, take *that,* dude! he thought. Just a tiny, tiny little jab. He didn't mean any real harm, truly—he'd just wanted to remind the guy that Kyoko didn't belong to anyone. He turned his head to look at him, expecting more of the quiet hostility that had marked their first interaction.
But there wasn't hostility there. No. Cain Heel was looking at Kyoko…and she was looking back at him. Looking back at him sternly, with unmistakable reproach. The man looked almost…embarrassed. Sheepish, even. Sheepish, apologetic, and unmistakably in love with the girl Tadao had pined for for the better part of two years. Really, though, it was much worse: she was unmistakably in love with him, too. Tadao felt himself fading into the background. No, he couldn't presume to know anything about Kyoko, could he? He couldn't presume to know anything about the two other people in the room. He was a bit player in their larger story, and he'd learn to be fine with that. He needed to. Eventually.
Kyoko noticed him looking, and those golden eyes turned towards him. "Anyway!" she said, flustered, "we were just playing chess. Would you like to stay? We have this wonderful chestnut mont-blanc dessert today—it'll be delicious with some hot tea." She motioned back to the table. "Plenty of room under the kotatsu!" she smiled.
He stood awkwardly for a second and then cleared his throat. He knew better than to accept. "Ah—that sounds wonderful, Kyoko-chan," he said. "But I should get going—let you get your rest. Let me know if you need anything. You have my email, of course. And Tanabe-sensei's too." He refrained from asking for her number.
Kyoko blushed—again. Cain, he noticed, was looking at the floor, awkwardly. "Thank you, Tadao-kun," she said. "I look forward to seeing you in class when I return."
"Likewise," he said. "It was good to meet you, Heel-san." He met Cain's eyes before tearing himself away—they were gazing at him darkly, though the man was smiling again.
"Likewise." Cain nodded goodbye as Tadao turned to go.
Tadao made it out of the room and back into the hall, somehow managing to keep his cool as he politely said his goodbyes to the Okami-san. At least he knew, now, without a shadow of a doubt…
Kyoko Mogami was never going to be his girlfriend.
=.=.=
"You were jealous," she said accusingly. "And then you were mean."
Kyoko was right. His first instinct had been jealousy. A heady rush of possessiveness had overtaken him when the boy had walked in. It was instinctive; he'd nearly growled out loud…and if he'd been able to, he likely would have bared his teeth like an animal defending his territory.
It had only taken him one glance to figure Tadao Mori out. The boy was in love with Kyoko. Or thought he was, at least. He recognized all the hallmarks of infatuation in him: the flush, the wide-eyed gaze that couldn't tear itself away from his girl. He turned to look at her, all innocence mixed with a tinge of pleading—what she called his 'puppy dog' look.
"Me?" he asked. Guileless, that's what he was going for. Innocent and guileless. Oh, he knew it was irrational. Kyoko wasn't a possession—she belonged to herself. And Kyoko wasn't the kind of girl whose heart was capable of split loyalties. He had no doubt that Kyoko was friendly to this 'Tadao-kun,' but he didn't even need to look at her to know how she felt. She'd been gracious and polite to him, but he could sense nothing in her that wanted more. If anything, he almost felt bad for the dude.
"You, Kuon." She gave him a mock glare, sticking out her tongue as she reset the chessboard.
"Maybe," he said.
"Maybe?" she echoed. "You looked like you were about to eat him."
"He looked like he wanted to eat you."
"He did not. He was being perfectly polite. You were acting like a caveman." She shook her head. "We really should talk about what to say if people see us together. People without NDAs—"
He growled.
Kyoko gave him a Look, but he laughed. "If it had been some former co-star of mine showing up at my home with a bunch of roses, wouldn't you be jealous?" he asked.
She pursed her lips. "You have a point," she said. "But I don't think I would've tried to scare them off."
"I'm sorry," he said, clearly not sorry at all. He was absolutely, positively sure he was a caveman. "But he was definitely into you." As far as he was concerned, Tadao was just the first of many. For now, Kyoko was just a girl hidden in the green hills of Arashiyama. But in the future? Whether or not she ever acted again, there would be more Tadao-kuns, just waiting in the wings to snatch her away.
He'd just…have to keep winning her over time and time again. He was fine with that. In fact…he was looking forward to it. It was an easy lesson to learn, especially given the kind of past he had. "I've been dumped an awful lot of times, Kyoko. I still don't know if I'm doing this right," he said. "But I want to do this right. Is it terrible that I'm afraid of you falling in love with someone better than I am?"
She stared at him. "Who on this planet could possibly be better than you, Kuon?" she said flatly. "I'm not going to fall in love with anyone else. That would be ridiculous. As ridiculous as you asking me whether or not I was attracted to Ren Tsuruga." She held out her hand and waited for him to take it, curling her fingers around his once he did. "And I'm not going to cheat on you." She was chagrined. "You know," she mused, "it's strange. I worry about the same thing every day. I mean, you're Kuon Hizuri, the son of the most beautiful woman in the world. And when you're not being Kuon, you're Ren Tsuruga, Japan's number one star." She sighed. "I'm just Kyoko. So…I guess I'm just shocked you could feel that way. Because I'm some nobody and you're a famous actor."
"You're not 'some nobody,' Kyoko. And being a famous actor doesn't matter at all if the one person I love doesn't love me back. I just want you to know that I worry about losing you too. It goes both ways, love."
"I understand," she said quietly. "I understand what that feeling's like."
"I know you do," he said.
She nodded her head. "Thank you," she said. "For telling me."
"We promised," he said. "To tell each other these things."
They tidied up the room, putting the chess pieces away and tucking the board onto the bookshelf. Just as they'd done over the summer, he worked alongside her. He didn't want to press the issue, already feeling as if he'd already shown her the very worst of himself today. He didn't want to re-open the past, but the way Tadao had spoken to Kyoko…it made him realize how little she'd told him about the time before their reunion. He held his breath before deciding to speak. "Kyoko?"
"Yes?"
"I'm afraid you've left a few things out…" he said tentatively.
She looked at him blankly. "Things?" she asked. "Out?"
"What's all this about you being his Juliet?" Kuon asked. He was looking at her with a neutral gaze—Kyoko had the feeling he was restraining whatever actual thoughts he had under a polite facade.
"I—" She was flustered. "I—I've forgotten all about it," she said. "It seemed so small after…after…"
"After?"
"After I called you and…that…girl—" Kyoko sighed. "After she answered, I…I tried not to think about anything too hard. I wanted to forget that night—everything. The play, Tadao-kun," she said. "Everything. I just tried to get my work done. Fill everything up so I wouldn't have time for pain." She smiled wanly at him. "So I hadn't thought about it in a while."
"So…"
"We had a cultural festival," she said. "And the class voted to put on Romeo and Juliet…"
He guffawed and smiled. "Ha! You can't seem to get away from it." It felt good to find some levity in the situation.
She smiled back at him and shook her head. "Don't remind me."
He looked at her expectantly. If he was honest, he knew he was being greedy. They had promised to share all of their lives with each other, but he was jealous that Tadao knew something about her that he didn't.
"They made me the director," she said. And she told him—how she'd run the rehearsals, how she'd used the things he'd taught her. How Tadao and Hana had been voted in as Romeo and Juliet, respectively.
"Then how, exactly, did you become 'his Juliet'?" he asked.
She walked up to him, tucking a lock of hair behind his ears and then straightening his collar. "Pouting doesn't become you, Kuon," she teased. "And anyway…it was Hana. She waited until just minutes before curtain call, and then all of a sudden she wasn't 'feeling well.' She had a friend make excuses for her. I think she expected us to cancel the production."
"So you stepped in," he said.
"A last minute switch."
"As one does," he teased. "Beating the pathetic bully at her own game…because you're the main character, and this is secretly a manga."
She rolled her eyes. "I stepped in. Because I wasn't about to let her win, and besides, everyone else had worked so hard." She shrugged. "I didn't really want to, you know? But I could, so I did."
She looked up at him. The teasing, laughing look had faded from his face, replaced with a look she didn't recognize. "Are you…angry?" she asked. He looked forlorn, as if she'd said something cruel.
"I'm not angry," he said. "But I'm sad that I missed your first live stage performance. And I'm sad I couldn't be your first Romeo."
"You were my first Romeo." There was a faint blush on her cheek. "You're still my Romeo."
He brought her hand up to his lips and kissed it. "Just without the dying part," he smiled.
She looked down where his hand was still holding hers. "Without the dying part," she laughed. "But I wish you'd been there with me too. One of the things I wanted to tell you—when I called, that is—was how good it felt. The way the audience reacted…to me. It was…unexpected."
"I'm not surprised it felt good."
"You're not?"
"A lot of people—likely most people—would have been crippled with stage fright at playing the lead so unexpectedly," he said. "But you—you, beloved, are a born actress. And you know it."
She huffed and ignored him, but he was creeping closer to her. "I wish I'd seen it," he said. "Truly. Your wonderful Juliet."
"I didn't know until afterwards how much I wanted you to see me," she said. "How I wanted to talk to you about it—there were so many things I learned, just putting the play together. You'd think shooting with Shingai would've taught me everything I needed to know—"
"Acting is a lifetime thing, love," he said. "I'm still learning. Even my father says he's still learning. You could live to be a hundred years old and still be discovering new things about your process."
"—There were so many things I wanted to ask you! So many things I wanted to say—"
"You can ask me now. Tell me now."
"Maybe the biggest thing I wanted to tell you," she said, "is thank you."
"You're welcome." They'd finished tidying up the room. He joined her as she looked outside the window at a landscape already gold with the early sunset, placing an arm around her waist and drawing her close.
"Kuon?"
"Hmm?"
"I know he has feelings for me," she said hesitantly. "I feel guilty about it, you know? For more than one reason. I mean…I know nothing happened, but…"
He raised an eyebrow. "Go on…"
She fidgeted. "He…confessed. Right before I called you, that same night. And it wasn't until he confessed that I admitted to myself that there couldn't be anyone else for me out there. That being away from you just…didn't make sense. That's when I decided to call you." He was staring at her, surprised. "And…I…I think when that girl answered, that's what made me realize it. That I couldn't live without you. Wait…no." She shook her head. "I think I always knew. I was just being an idiot..."
"Kyoko, love—"
"Sometimes I'm afraid to think of what would've happened if he hadn't confessed that night." She shivered. "What if I hadn't called? All of those things I wanted to say—to tell you that I'd made a mistake. That I belonged with you. That I love you—"
"Don't think of the might-have-beens," he soothed. "I've done it too. It'll give you nightmares." He kissed her cheek. "True love found a way."
"I told him that I couldn't accept his confession, and I know it made him sad. But he's a good guy, Kuon. And he truly has been a good friend."
"So I owe 'Tadao-kun' thanks, then?" he teased. "For showing you the error of your ways?"
"It came at the expense of his own feelings," Kyoko said soberly. "I didn't mean to hurt him, but…"
"There's no getting out of it," Kuon shrugged. "Winner takes all, I'm afraid." Perhaps he was being glib about it, but like it or not, rejection always hurt someone. He knew he ought to feel some compassion for the dude, but all he felt was relief that it hadn't been him on the receiving end of Kyoko's rejection.
The seconds ticked past.
There was a question on the tip of his tongue and he didn't want to ask it.
He wasn't going to ask it, but Kyoko was looking at him inquisitively, waiting for him to speak. He sighed. She knew him too well.
He blurted out the question. "Do you think you could have loved him?"
She sat a while, thinking it over. "If I'd never met you," she said. "Maybe. I think perhaps we would have been like the Fuwas. Though—he deserves someone that would have loved him more than I could have."
Her answer gave him a small twinge in his heart. His jealousy persisted, a bitter stew on a slow simmer inside him. He'd wanted her to say 'no, of course not, Kuon!' Her answer was truthful, but it left him off-balance. In a world without Kyoko, could he have loved anyone else? Could he have settled down with 'a nice girl'? He couldn't conceive of it. He would have likely continued on as he'd been doing—a slave to his work, too busy to even eat.
She saw the look on his face. "That bothers you."
"A little."
"It's not a fair question, you know."
"I know," he said ruefully. "I'm sorry."
"Look," she said. "If I'd had…a sister or a friend, maybe." She sighed. "Tadao-kun is exactly the kind of guy I'd hope they'd date."
"A nice guy," he said ironically.
"That you scared off."
He smiled sadly at her, dragging her close and then nuzzling into her neck. "Not a broken, pouting, selfish lout of an actor," he said.
"You're not—"
He shook himself out of despondency. What was the point of this jealousy? She was right—the guy sounded like a solid dude. He made a wide flourish with his arm. "A guy scared off so easily could never deserve you," he said melodramatically.
She sensed the shift in his mood and gave him a look so withering he laughed. "Cain Heel, even Yayoi-san said she almost screamed when she first saw you."
"What, is it the all-black ensemble?" he asked.
"And maybe the murderous glaring," she added.
"Can't help it," he shrugged.
She crossed her hands over her chest. "Can't help it?" she asked. "Or won't?"
He gave her a sheepish grin as she stared him down. Or tried to, anyway. He could see the corners of her mouth twitching and knew it was only a matter of time before she was smiling at him again.
"Shachou and Ten put this character together so that people would feel intimidated. It was supposed to keep them from asking too many questions. I'm supposed to be dangerous and hostile. I would be out-of-character otherwise," he said smugly. "And you wouldn't want me to compromise my acting, would you?"
She rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless," she said. "Poor Tadao-kun."
"'Poor Tadao-kun?'" he said with mock outrage. He gave her a lopsided smile. "Poor Kuon, missing the love of his life's first stage performance! Poor Kuon, finding out his soulmate was princess-carried by some other dude!"
He was trying to play it off as humor, but he knew she saw otherwise. Tadao had seen parts of her life that Kuon would never see, and he hated him for it. It wasn't rational, but…love was rarely rational.
"'Cain Heel' hasn't been easy for me," he said. It was a lame excuse.
"A threatening asshole playing a murderous, soulless monster. It couldn't have been easy."
"It wasn't. Especially because I thought I'd never be with you again," he said. "I know I scared quite a few people. Even the director…even though he blamed it on method acting. I know I was intimidating to him, but he nearly forced me to break character just to tell me to stop fucking around."
Her mouth dropped. "You?" she exclaimed. "You broke character?"
"I…told you I almost got thrown off the project, right?"
"Well, yes, but—
"The director thought I was taking the character too far. Lory had to bribe him."
"I'm…I'm sorry." She curled up into him tighter. "I'm sorry that I caused this—this setback to your career—"
He interrupted her before she could apologize again. "You didn't. Set anything back, that is. You know that, right? You saved me. Taught me what love was."
"I also hurt you."
He pulled up her chin. "And you'll spend the rest of your life making up for it," he grinned and then kissed her softly on her lips. "Because you're going to love me so much, we'll both forget it ever happened. Right?"
She pressed both her hands to his face, up on tiptoes to kiss him again. "This life and the next one," she said. "And the one after that."
"Good." He dipped down to take her lips hungrily and then groaned. "Look, I know how immature this sounds," he said. "But I'm going to ask you anyway. Because we promised not to hold things back."
She found this…concerning.
He scrunched his eyes closed, and when he opened them again he looked like a little boy. "Did he kiss you?"
She laughed. She had to. A pink tinge appeared on his cheeks, expanding until he was unmistakably blushing. "Kuon!" She was holding her sides. "Really?"
He pouted at her. "Really."
Kyoko grinned. For a second she considered torturing him just a little. But then she saw the rawness in his heart peeking out from his eyes and thought the better of it.
"No, he didn't," Kyoko said. "This was a high school production. No one invoked the rule of the heart, or whatever you call it—"
"I mean, I did say it was immature—"
"We leaned in and I was above him on the balcony, so we just tilted our heads. We didn't actually kiss."
His relief was palpable.
"Good," he growled—and then he reached out and pulled her close…close…close…until he felt her relax into his body. He kissed her, holding himself back until he felt her arms close around his neck.
"Kuon," she said. She pressed herself against him, seeking more. He took it as an open invitation to give vent to his passion and his jealousy, and his kisses grew rougher and deeper as his tongue found hers.
He broke himself away, reminding himself that anyone could walk in on them…again. "I think we should go back to your room," he said, his voice strained. He offered her his hand.
She looked at him and smirked as she took it. "But it was a nice confession, you know," she said. "Under the fireworks that night." She took her hand back, straightened her clothes, and then turned her back on him to walk away.
"Oh was it?" He lunged after her but she'd anticipated it and evaded his grasping arms.
She took a few steps back, just out of reach, and then turned to him again, smirking. "It was," she teased. "He said, 'Kyoko, I'm in love—'"
He growled. In the blink of an eye, he'd caught up to her, grabbed her by the wrists and then trapped her backwards against the wall, immobile with her arms over her head. His lips grazed hers. "I'm sure he is," he said. "I'm sure he's thought about this—" He kissed her roughly, sucking her lip into his mouth before claiming her with his tongue. "—but he can't have it."
He pulled away, leaving her to seek out empty air.
"To your room, little girl," he whispered.
"Hey—" she said. But the time for coherent speech had passed. He lifted her up and she wound her legs around his waist, clinging to his neck as he carried her across the hall into her room. His mouth never left her skin—he needed to be connected to her, and her embrace was not enough. He slammed the door shut behind them, heedless of the noise, with a single objective in mind.
They fell onto the bed.
Somehow he managed to pull her sweater over her head before snapping off her bra and heedlessly throwing it away into some corner. She pulled greedily at his shirt, too, tearing it off with a giddy flourish. Her nipples were diamond-hard and she arched upwards to press them against the searing warmth of his chest, moaning as her skin met his. He felt like a furnace. She writhed against him but he pulled away, kneeling between her spread legs as his hands frantically worked to undo his belt and the buttons at his fly.
He leaned over her. His mouth was everywhere. She wanted more—more—grasping at him, wanting him closer. He gave her just enough of himself to torture her, overloading each of her senses without committing the final act. She was left to act on instinct—her hands digging into the corded strength of his arms, her mouth crying out his name, her hips rolling upwards and finding the ridges of his abdomen to grind against. She was aching to be filled. She moaned, frustrated, but he held her down again, ending her feverish thrashing. He took her nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around one puckered peak while teasing the other with his fingers, pulling off his own pants. When he was fully naked, he slithered up her body until he could trap her beneath him again.
"Mmph—Kuon—"
They were both panting. His greedy eyes took in the sight of her as her chest heaved up and down. She was still wearing her panties and her skirt, bunched up around her waist. He paused to admire her. Part of him wanted to leave her this way—there was something inherently lewd about fucking a girl with her panties still on. But she ran her legs against the length of his body and the feel of her skin against his made up his mind. She lay beneath him with her knees bent and her panties soaked through with the evidence of her desire.
He grinned as she squirmed. "You were saying? Your boy Tadao-kun's confession, was it?"
She answered with her hips, which canted upwards as she moaned. "Kuon—please—"
His grin widened. "I want you to tell me more about this confession, Kyoko—"
Lightly, he ran the back of his hand along the soaked gusset of her panties, refusing to give her anything to ease the ache inside her. She whimpered, wanting more from him. But he frustrated her again and again, refusing to press his body against hers.
"Kuon…he's not my boy…"
He unbuttoned the waistband of her skirt. In one abrupt motion, he lifted her up by her hips and yanked it off alongside her panties.
"…Ah!" she gasped. He was brutal, but everything he did only heightened her need. He leaned backwards as he brought her legs together and raised them, allowing him to pull the garments over her knees and finally off entirely. She bit her lip to keep herself from moaning as his large hands grasped her ankles to open her up again.
"No?" he asked teasingly. "If he's not your boy, then why was he here?"
She could feel the cold air on her bare nether lips. She knew he was looking at her. His hands moved up her legs and pressed against her inner thighs, forcing her legs to open wider.
"Someone had to bring the schoolwor—mmmm—" she babbled as a single finger teased along the line of her slit, gathering her wetness.
"And of course it would be him, now wouldn't it?"
"I can't tell people what to do—ahhh!" He pushed in, just to tease her. A single finger, pressing just a single inch into her drooling cunt.
He drew out her wetness and looked her in the eye as he sucked the finger into his mouth. "Mmm," he said.
She cried out in frustration. His substantial body was keeping her exposed and open, and all she wanted was something to fill the desperate ache between her legs.
"Look at how wet you are," he said. He dipped into her again, two fingers this time, deep enough to cover them in her slick but not deep enough to provide her any comfort. "Do you think he could have made you feel like this, Kyoko?" he asked teasingly. Again he licked her wetness off his fingers. "Make you this wet—" She whimpered as he entered her a third time. "—make you moan like a wanton whore—"
He pulled away from her—she reached out to grab his wrist, wanting him to continue what he'd started. But he broke her grip on him and reversed it on her, pinning her hands by her head again. He bent his forehead to touch her own before descending to kiss her, grinding his hardened length into her wetness. He only meant to tease but she arched up into him, open mouthed, sucking him into herself.
He pulled away again and she nearly wept in frustration. He released her hands and she grabbed at him, clutching him around his neck and on his back as she attempted to find leverage.
"I asked you a question," he whispered.
Her mind was a haze of lust. His hard cock was a burning brand against the lips of her cunt. She would have said anything to have him inside her, but she could only give one answer. "Only you," she said. Her voice was rough and needy. "Only you, Kuon—no one else—please—please don't make me wait any more—"
He gripped her hips and thrust into her in one abrupt motion, giving her his full length as she threw her head back and screamed into open air. "Oh fuck," she said. It was a word he'd taught her, and the only word that she found right then to describe the feeling of his cock inside her. "Fuck—" He drew his hips back and then pumped into her once more, hard. "—Kuon—fuck—"
"Do—you—" he gritted out. He was pulling nearly all the way out before thrusting his entire length back inside her, holding a steady pace and punctuating each word with a brutal push. "—think he can fill this greedy—slutty—tiny—little cunt—like—this?"
"No-o-o," she moaned. He was cradling her head as she clutched at the sheets. "Never—Kuon—no—"
They could both hear how wet she was as he fucked into her, but it only made him to push into her harder. "Do you—fuck, Kyoko—do you—think he can—make you scream?" He grabbed her legs by her ankles and pulled them up and over past her ears. His length drove into her deeper than she'd thought possible; he pulled out her gasps and moans as she thrashed her head backwards in ecstasy.
"That's right," he said. "You belong to me—"
One more thrust, pressing into her cervix. She grabbed at his hair, clutching at it with her fist and forcing him to kiss her. She could feel him, deep inside. Stretching her, filling her, pushing her to the point where pleasure became pain and pain became pleasure. "Yes," she said. He was holding himself still as she clenched around him. "I belong to you—just you—my body—my…cunt—I want you to fill me—cum inside me—over and over again—use me—"
"Kyoko," he moaned, and all restraint inside him broke. "You're the only one," he groaned. "The only one I could ever love—no one else takes me the way you do—" He was rutting into her now, harder, faster than before. She hadn't thought it was possible. She released his fistful of hair and gasped before she could hold him again—all she could do was clutch at her bed sheets as he lost control. "This is the cunt I fill with my fucking cum—the only one—god, fuck Kyoko—this fucking perfect little pussy—"
He bit and sucked into her neck, closing his eyes as he got his fill of her. She was so wet and so willing that he forgot how he meant to give and not just take. His body moved of its own accord, seeking his release. He welcomed the pain as she finally dug her fingers into the flesh of his back, relishing her cries and her moans as she met his rhythm. "Tell me, Kyoko," he said. "Tell me—"
She knew what he wanted and she moaned it into his ears like a mantra, each word stoking her own climax. "I love you," she said. "I—fucking—love you—I love you, IloveyouIloveyou—"
She came first, her words turning into one great cry—she clenched around him, pulsing hard as he kept pushing, pushing until he, too, found his orgasm. He gave a great cry and then strained against her, each muscle taut with the force of his climax. She could feel his liquid heat filling her—already she knew it was dripping out of her.
They were both panting as the moment passed. Their bodies were covered with a sheen of sweat—he didn't want to crush her underneath him and tried moving to give her space. But she wasn't prepared to let him go yet. She brought her arms around and then locked her ankles behind him.
"Not yet," she said. "Please."
His hands were trembling as they released her hips, which he'd been clutching all this time. Wordlessly, he nodded, moving them underneath her to clutch her ass.
He closed his eyes against a pillow. "Mine," he muttered.
She laughed softly underneath him and gave him a squeeze. "Mine," she whispered back.
"I meant it." He raised his head from the pillow and looked into her eyes. "Every word. You're the only one I could ever love."
"You're the only one I could ever love," she said. "If you ever left me, I think I'd die."
"Good thing I'll never leave you," he said. "I hope you know that."
She cuddled into him. "Yes."
He held her tight—so tight that he no longer knew where he ended and she began. Eventually, he knew they would have to move. Eventually, she would find his sweaty mass uncomfortable resting on top of her. Eventually, his arms would fall asleep. When that happened, they would let each other go. He would slip out of her and find her a wet towel to clean the mess of fluids on her, and then they would have to get dressed and pretend they hadn't been thoroughly indecent in the middle of the day.
…They would pretend that they weren't looking forward to being thoroughly indecent again that night.
…Or the morning after that.
…Or really, for the rest of their lives.
=.=.=
He was leaving as he'd arrived: dressed in a long black trench coat, black shirt, black shoes, a shaggy cut on his black hair overhanging his steel-grey eyes. He wasn't quite Cain Heel yet—he didn't need to be. He'd fall into character once he boarded the train. He'd rely on Cain's air of hostility and violence to keep people away. That was Cain's purpose, after all—and wasn't it convenient to be able to move freely and anonymously?
He hated leaving her, but he knew he had to. She was due back at school to finish out her last year; he was due back in Tokyo to film his next series. They had lives outside of each other, and that was OK. He took some comfort in the fact that she'd promised to never say sayonara to him ever again. There would be no desperate drive on a downhill togue, no heartbreak reducing him into rubble. His heart was hers—even more so than when she'd broken it months ago. And he knew that hers belonged to him, as well.
"You're leaving," she said quietly. "I know you have to, but—"
He squeezed the hand he was holding. Kyoko had insisted on coming with him this time. It was her way of ending the cycle of goodbyes, another chance to overwrite the bitterness of last time with the sweetness of now. A 'take-2' of sorts.
"I am."
He could read the thoughts on her face. I wish you could stay, she was saying. She was too good, too practical to say it out loud.
"I wish I could stay, too, love." She looked up at him in surprise. "Yes, I can hear what you're thinking." He smiled at her. "But I'll see you in a few weeks."
She was blushing. She was adorable when she was blushing, and he fought back the urge to twirl her around and kiss her. "You're sure you want to spend your winter days off with me?" she asked.
"You're sure you want to spend your birthday with me?" he answered. He ruffled her hair and kissed the lobe of her ear. "Of course I do," he said. "I want to do all the things—"
She grinned. "All the things?"
"Ha!" he said, and winked at her. "All of the things," he growled into her ear. The hand in her hair pulled a lock or two at her nape as her blush deepened. "But in all seriousness," he continued. "I've always had this fantasy—"
The tips of her ears were growing pink.
"—of going to see the Christmas illuminations with you in Marunouchi."
She looked mortified.
He grinned and then kissed her chastely on her cheek. She shoved him away. "Kuon!" she said.
"What?" He smirked as she pouted. "What did you think I was going to say?"
She looked away. "Nothing," she said.
"Nothing," he echoed. "I've corrupted my princess, it seems—blushing over Christmas lights—"
She glared at him. "I would love to see the illuminations with you," she said. "I didn't really have anyone that wanted to go with me just to look at them." She could almost see them in her mind's eye, laughing and holding onto each other under magic lights before sobering as she remembered those long, thankless days working as a drudge in Tokyo.
He crept back towards her and grinned as his arm settled around her again. "I didn't, either."
"I was always just…on my way to another job," she said. "Always too busy."
"Me too."
"Maybe we can have hot chocolate while we walk."
"I'll make you fried chicken—" she said.
"—And I want to buy you Christmas presents—"
"Kuon, no—"
"—You can't tell me 'no,'" he said. "I'm calling in one of your punishments if I have to."
"Buying me presents is not punishing me!" she said.
"It is when it gets you so very riled up, darling."
"Darling?!"
"You know you love it. Besides, it's been months since the last time I blackmailed you into shopping with me…"
She huffed.
"—And."
"Hmm?"
The Emperor flashed before her and was gone. "Aaandd…well, you know what happened last time."
Her blush came back in full force. Oh yes. She knew exactly what had happened last time. But she was puzzled by the expression on his face. "Kuon?" she asked.
"I want to hold your hand." She looked up at him and he was looking down at her with eyes that made her catch her breath. They were so earnest. So loving. "I want to hold your hand again, out there. Buy you things. Take you all over Tokyo…and not worry about anyone following us or taking our pictures."
But he was looking at her as if waiting for her to say something. "We've been holding hands this entire time," she said, smiling. "You look…different enough from Ren Tsuruga like this, I guess—"
He made a pleased, grumbly sound in his throat. "You'll have to wait and see," he said. "I'm going to have to let go of this hand. Soon. Though of course—if you'd like to come to Tokyo now, I would have no objections whatsoever—"
She laughed. "Good try," she said. "I've still got exams coming up. The University exams aren't until after New Year's, and I still have to graduate high school."
He pouted. "Fine," he said. "I guess I'll have to wait."
"You won't have to wait that long." She smiled up at him.
"I'll count down the hours."
"I'll count the minutes."
"—The seconds—"
He grabbed her and kissed her and cupped her face in his hands, staring at her as if to commit her face to memory.
"Any minute now you'll get on that train and I'll run alongside the tracks, waving a handkerchief goodbye. And then there'll be this swell of music and a bunch of dopey, sad violins—"
"No—" He shook his head. "This isn't that kind of movie. Or story, for that matter."
"Oh?"
"No big train station goodbye scene," he said. "First of all, you can't get onto the platform."
She giggled and rolled her eyes at him. He grinned.
"Second…it's not like I'm going off to war or anything, and everyone knows that the Train Station Scene doesn't happen when…the dude is just…going to work in the morning…"
"Hmm…"
"Third, Kyoko-my-love…"
He turned to face her and then took her other hand. For a while they just looked at each other, face-to-face, an island of stillness in the midst of the hustle and bustle of a train station. This was the kind of parting he'd dreamed of in the summer—the one which he was afraid he'd never see.
"...We won't get that scene because it'll be a quick cut to you coming home to me in Tokyo."
"Coming home?"
"My home is your home…and your home is my home…and you are my home no matter where you are."
She couldn't find words to overcome the lump in her throat.
He could see her eyes glisten—a tear fell, unheeded on her cheek. She shook her head, embarrassed. "I'm—I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know what came over me—"
"Don't be," he said. He brushed the tear away, bringing her close to him. If he looked at her any more, he'd start crying too. "I love you," he said. "I'll wait for you in Tokyo."
"I'll miss you," she said.
"I'll miss you too. But it won't be like last time," he answered.
"No. It won't."
"Call me. Text me. Any time," he said. "If I can't answer right then, I'll give you a call as soon as I can. And I'll do the same with you."
She nodded: yes.
They heard the boarding call for his train. Reluctantly, he let her go, walking with heavy steps to the gate. He had his ticket ready, his luggage at his side. There was one last long, lingering kiss. One last glance. One last "I love you." She waited outside the gates as he walked forward, looking back at her and blowing a kiss before he disappeared onto the platform.
When he fell into his seat, he savored the feel of their goodbye—so different from their last. He already missed her, but he could still feel her presence with him. His body was marked with her kisses. He could smell her on his clothes. He knew she was out there, waiting for him, just as he was waiting for her. Sweet sorrow, he thought, because that's what it was. How was he going to survive until she came back to him for Christmas?
=.=.=
A lifetime of abandonment made goodbyes particularly hard for her, but she saw him off with as much equanimity as she could muster. She watched him turn around on the platform for a last, lingering look at her, caught the kiss he blew into the air and sent one back to him.
She had to remind herself again that she was perfectly allowed to feel warm. And loved. Contented, even, because It was possible, she knew, to have these feelings untainted by doubts. She knew that there was a difference between feelings and facts. She felt anxious over his departure—that was a feeling. She was afraid she'd lose him—that was a feeling. But the facts spoke for themselves. He loved her. That was a fact. She would see him again—and soon. She was still afraid—she hadn't lied to him. She was afraid he'd change towards her, she was afraid he'd call someday and tell her he didn't want her anymore. But none of those things were true today. And none of those things would be true tomorrow, or the day after that, or the day after that. Of this she was reasonably sure.
She stayed until the timetables showed his train had departed the station, and then she turned to go home herself. She was to go back to school on Monday; again, back to the daily grind away from fairy tales and princes. But this time, he would be a secret weapon. A tiny, sacred spot of joy in her heart that belonged only to her. It was her nature to view love as a liability, but what she had promised him forced her to view it as a strength.
Just a few weeks, she told herself. A few weeks until her eighteenth birthday—a few weeks until she would be with him, talking, eating, laughing with him again.
She got home and greeted Etsuro and Yayoi with a smile—her chores had been done that morning. Yayoi nodded and looked relieved as she passed by. She exchanged a sideways glance with her husband, whose tense shoulders relaxed when they saw Kyoko come in, none the worse for wear. "How was it?" she asked gently.
Kyoko blushed. "It was fine, Yayoi-san," she said. All of a sudden the older woman yelped as Kyoko descended to the ground in a dogeza. "Truly, Yayoi-san, Etsuro-san," she told them. "I am so sorry for inconveniencing the two of you like this—"
But Yayoi was already on her way, lifting up the girl. "There is no inconvenience in making sure our family is well and healthy, Kyoko-chan," she said. "The only thing I would ask of you is that you think of myself and Etsuro as your supports. And If you can't think of us as your parents then…at least let us be your friends."
"But—"
"No buts."
"But—I—all of this—it all happened because I fell in love—"
"Nonsense." Yayoi sighed. "Kyoko-chan…Etsuro and I supported your relationship with Kuon-kun because we saw how good he was to you and for you. If my own son were only half as good, I would feel as if I'd served him well as a mother. None of this is because you fell in love, dear, though I'll grant that some of this might have happened because we did not love you enough. I only wish we'd seen how exhausted you were earlier."
"Yayoi-san…" Kyoko breathed.
"I'm sure you have things to do before you go back to school tomorrow," Yayoi said.
Kyoko nodded. "But I should be able to help during the dinner rush."
Yayoi turned. "Absolutely not," she said. "Just because you've been cleared to go back to school does not mean you take on all the things you'd been doing that landed you in the hospital in the first place—"
"But—"
"No 'buts,' young lady," Yayoi said. "You haven't lived life as a normal high-school girl…ever. I know it's quite late, and I know who you're dating, but I refuse to see you in the hospital again for something I know I can prevent."
Kyoko found herself upright and wandering to her room. Yayoi came back moments later with some tea and a snack.
"To hold you over until dinner," she said.
Kyoko merely looked at her, baffled, and then turned to do her homework.
=.=.=
She hadn't been home for very long at all when her phone started ringing. She'd just settled at her desk, getting started on a new assignment. Rushing forward, she grabbed it—the only people who would call her were the Fuwas and…and him.
It was a video call, and when she answered, Kuon's smiling face greeted her.
"Hi," he said.
She felt shy, suddenly. During the summer, they'd texted…and called…but they'd been together often enough that they hadn't needed to spend too much time on the phone. She'd anticipated having to miss him with the same sharpness with which she'd missed him before, having assumed that she needed to prepare for long swathes of silence. "H-hi," she said. She felt like an idiot.
"Did…did I say something?" he asked. His voice sounded tinny and distant until she remembered to turn the speaker up.
"No, it's just—"
His eyebrow rose.
"—I just didn't expect you to call so soon," she said.
"You know I'm going to call you, right? All the time. Every day."
She hid her head in her hands. "I'm sorry, I just—"
"Just because I'm going back to Tokyo doesn't mean I can't talk to you, love," he said. "Anyway, I just wanted to show you—"
And her screen was filled with the sight of Mount Fuji in the sunset, orange-gold, pinky-purple, clouds just beyond its snow-white peak stained with sky. She'd ignored the view each time she'd seen it before, but now…
"Oh Kuon," she breathed. "It's beautiful."
"I want to see this again," he said. "With you. Next to me."
"Yes," she whispered.
They spoke for a little while longer—about her commute home, about other people on the train. How he missed her. How her pillow still smelled like him. Small things, but small things that were part of a big, big thing. Because in the end, when they'd descended into a comfortable silence, he said—
"I love you."
She said it back. When the screen went black, this time, she felt warm and loved and secure—
And this time, she could see no shadow of another parting.
=.=.=
Author's Note:
Hiya everyone—
This chapter brings this fic to over 300,000 words (What!? how!?).
I am so happy to be able to post this chapter relatively soon after the last one was published. Once upon a time, a long long time ago, this story was new and I was publishing at a cadence of maybe twice a month. As things got more complicated, it became...*once* a month. And then as both story AND personal life got complicated, there was more time between each chapter. In my defense...the chapters DID get longer.
Thank you for reading—and for the kind words you've left on these past few chapters. I know it's greedy, but please, let me know what you think. It really does help me push through to the next one. I'm slowly catching up on messages. FFnet is finally sending emails back out, so that gives me hope that it…won't stay broken forever.
I don't understand why the chapter titles (which are centered) look so weirdly 'off' when they published.
I'm loath to make any representations whatsoever on the posting dates of future chapters, but I've been writing Daughter of Kyoto as part of my Nanowrimo goal. As of right now, I'm looking at about 47,000 words written this month (out of a goal of 50,000). All that to say…Chapter 37 has been mostly drafted, as has part of Chapter 38.
ANYWAY…
Thank you in advance for your thoughts.
Love,
Parkerbear, 28Nov2023
Some things:
Chapter title: 'No shadow of another parting' - from the last line of Great Expectations by Charles Dickens
Epigraph: From Sonnet XVII - Pablo Neruda