CHAPTER 113
I do not own Skip Beat! Yoshiki Nakamura does.
~~Magical Summer trip ~~
~~ part 18~~
~A house of wonders, a house of memories~
Ren led her through the huge sandy corridors upstairs, showing her in passing several guest rooms, his parents', two bathrooms, his father's desk if he didn't change the place, and his mum one. They walked and walked, and it never seemed to end, the length of the house endless. And she started to feel lost. Her only landmark spots that helped situated herself, were the towers. Ren explained to her that the small ones served as the respective entries for the garage with his parents' cars, and on the opposite end of the house, as the entry for the outside pool at the bottom of it and a terrace and balcony on top. Those, he didn't show her, just told her about, and said he would show her when they go see the garden. But he let her enter the medium size towers. One has the biggest most comfortable cinema she had ever seen, with a room reaching so high it was hard to grasp for her. And she even saw stairs carved into the walls on the sides, leading to three alcoves with balconies, like in theatres arenas, but in much smaller. For a private house, it was massive, truly. No wonder, they had needed a tower for this.
But what she found the most impressive and cute were the tiny, tiny holes, made into the shape of alcoves themselves and dug into the bricks and concrete to make small shelves all around. They gathered in the hearts, DVDs, old VHS, CDs, a whole collection of movies and shows on one wall. And on the other, hundreds and hundreds of scripts, well packed and sorted, some more ruffled and used than others, some still prime and proper. Many with fluorescent stickers or dog-ears on the corners of most worn-out ones.
Kyoko was blown away, as she looked around and Ren commented on when his parents had set this up, apparently before he was born, and how precise and maniacal they had been in the construction of it. He explained the constructors had shared their amusement and sometimes annoyance over it for years after it was built, and that it had become one of the rumours about his parents famous house.
It was maddeningly funny and she wanted to laugh, but she couldn't shake off her awe, and she heard Ren laugh as he commented on their way out.
"Acting is to be taken seriously. That's the devotion you need for movies and acting." He said that in a mocking tone but she could see he believed in it, in devotion at least, maybe not in the shape it took for his parents. But how dedicated you needed to be, she had no doubt.
"And my dad is an expert in that," he jested with a shake of his head, but again, it was evident for her. How proud he actually was of his father, how admiring he was of him. How much he loved him.
She smiled at him in silence, and she saw Ren catch her stare, and see he wasn't fooling her in the least. Not that he had truly been, she was sure. But he still cleared his throat and led her quickly to another place. Cute.
He brought her to the second medium tower, opening a door to a room nearly as massive as the living room, with stretched twirling stairs leading up at the centre of walls covered in thousands of books and novels. The light reddish brown of the wood shelves alternated with some washed eggshell grey and faded blue tones and were – once again – embedded right into the walls. Small alcoves, integrated too, rested scattered through all the shelves, and served as lantern lamps to path the library up with lights. She wondered if the lights were made of LED bulbs as she noticed some holes were filled with little trinkets, like statuettes, tiny vases, and things she couldn't identify. Flowers and vines decorated the smoothed wood railing and even the stone column the stairs were circling at the centre.
As she craned her neck to see how high it went, she saw a couple of fixed ladders directly on the walls, in some areas the steps wouldn't have permitted a person to reach. And it went up and up. A lifetime wouldn't have sufficed to read all of the books present here.
Gaping, she couldn't help her words.
"It's like in Beauty and the Beast…"
She felt more than she saw the shaking figure by her side as she tried to pick up her jaw from the floor. Then puffing sounds came out as the laughs turned more expressive. She. Would. Not. Turn. Around. He would tease her again. It had come out before she could think of it, it was the first thought that came to her mind. He was still at it, and she blushed.
He caught her by her waist suddenly, and pressed her against him in a side hug.
"You are the cutest."
Now she was sure her face would remain as ripe as a cherry.
"Shut up. I couldn't help myself…"She mumbled at the end.
"Huh huff … cough-cough – … Pff…"Came from her right and she rolled her eyes.
"… That's because it is natural," he commented merrily and she regretted looking at him when she saw how fondly he was looking at her.
She groaned and looked away, returning her gaze to the masterpiece that was this library.
He rubbed her side lightly to bring back her attention and said, as she looked at him again and he smiled.
"I admit, however, that it does have that little flair of old tales library."
She gave him a pointed look.
"No going back on your words?"
He shook his head.
An irrepressible thought came, and she hesitated for a brief second before asking.
"Can I take a picture of this room? Do you think your parents would mind?"
Ren snorted and waved up and around, a smile so huge she wanted to pull at the corners of his lips to get rid of it for a second.
"No… By all means, huff – … – Strike away."
She did her best to ignore how merrily taunting he had said this, and made precise use of her Polaroid. She had her phone but this enchantment of a room, deserved better than phone pictures. After five pictures, she stopped. The silly man by her side would never stop roasting her if she didn't limit herself.
With a certain amount of regret, they left that tower soon after, and he brought her to the big one. Which she discovered to be filled with several peculiar rooms. A costume one. A 'fake' podium for modelling and do catwalk, a dojo, a huge designer room for his mother and her creations, she guessed. An enormous training room for acting, made of props, elastic binds and safety nets for jumps, and many other stuff. That one is particular was fascinating, and something Kyoko would have found truly useful as an actress, to have at home and to be able to train for action scenes whenever she wanted.
But no matter how massive and impressive this last tower was, it still paled in comparison to the magical library, and Ren guided her outside of it before she had realized it. There was the top of it he hadn't shown her, but before she could ask, he explained.
"The top of it has a beautiful view but it will ruin the surprise of the garden later as you would see it all at once, so I'd like to let you see it later."
She nodded, getting more and more curious about that garden as the tour progressed.
Finally, he led her downstairs again, but by another flight of stairs, on the opposite side of the house, or the middle of it? She was still a little lost.
He guided her through more rooms, more classical ones for a house, as well as other guest rooms, and a sports hall that has as much equipment as one could dream of. She wasn't even sure professional gyms had always as many.
He stopped in front of a new door, and he opened it for her to see.
"This is a guest bedroom that has its own bathroom," Ren said, turning to her, "You could sleep there, if that's okay with you."
She nodded and peeked inside numbly – having finally given up on memorizing the house whole layout on the first try – and a bedroom twice the size of her own at San Francisco, greeted her eyes. It was gorgeous, and had a huge balcony giving right on the green area she supposed was the garden.
Before she could ask or look further, though, Ren was placing his warm hand on her eyes.
"Not looking at the garden, not yet."
"Hai, Hai. I won't. Close the door so I'm not tempted to see more."
She heard the door close and opened her eyes.
"Is the room alright for you?"He asked and she had to blink when she noticed he was seriously asking her.
"You can't be asking that, right?"She said with a smile, before pointing all around. "This is a palace, a modern-day castle. How could I not be more than 'okay' in whatever room you propose to me?"
"I want you to be comfortable."He stretched with a soft smile.
She returned it, disbelief colouring her face as how ridiculous it was for him to think she could miss of anything in such a house, and chuckling at how attentive and pampering he was with her.
"Believe me, I will be."
He smiled with relief.
"There is the garden then, but first there is one last room I'd like – "
She agreed distantly. All of the house was so wonderful and she couldn't wait for him to show her. Even if it had not been as amazingly castle-like as it was, she would have most likely let him drag her everywhere, as long as she could spend time with him.
But if she was honest, however, there was one spot she had not had the occasion to quench her interest about. A wonder she had had way before the question of visiting his parents' house came into. A place she hadn't dared ask about, and had only dreamt she would get to see.
She paused, but only for a second and spoke without thinking.
"There is an area I would be truly curious to see," she said quietly, looking at him with a question in the eyes, despite half – not meaning to say those words aloud.
His eyes shined as if he understood perfectly what she had meant, though, and more, as if he was in fact pleased she wanted to see, and he nodded with a grin slowly stretching.
"The plan was to show you right about now."
She felt surprised he had thought of that, her escaped words had only been her wishful thinking, she hadn't imagined he would truly want to show her.
"Oh. Only if you don't mind."
If it were too intimate for him, she would understand. And she hadn't wanted to force his hand.
"I don't, I wanted to," – he smiled and rubbed his neck – , "Fair warning, there is nothing extraordinary about it."
She smiled as she nodded – and as he started to lead her in the corridors – persuaded she would be of another mind.
They remained downstairs and he led her through the luminous halls until he walked her to a closed cloudy brown door, and stopped.
He smiled sheepishly as he turned back to her, the smooth t-shirt he wore stretching under the move of his musculature.
"There it is."
His long fingers curled around the knob and made it pivots, and she had the odd feeling he was nervous when the door opened, and he cleared the way to let her enter.
A luminous big room graced her stare, pristine of the dirty passage of time – as if, interrupted into one precise innocent moment and frozen forever.
When she penetrated the room, she both felt elated and a full-fledged intruder, to be able to see the silent witness of a part of his past life, even as she eagerly tried to grasp every single detail around.
A long bed – though not nearly as massive the one she remembered he had at his flat in Japan – , lied against the bottom right wall of a well alight room, the head resting under a huge window giving on the green of the garden too. A couple of old folded clothes rested on the bed.
White walls enhanced the feeling of light all around. An ajar door nearby on the right let guess bathroom tiles, and the square angle owned by a sink. On the left, several dark foldable wood panels let peek hung clothes and shelves. An old ball of basket lied on the floor in front of them. Pictures hung on the right wall, above his bed, with his parents portrayed – she made a few steps forward – noticing half of the ground was covered with carpet under the bed and all around, the reason of her hushed her feet when she stepped on it behind it. Even the sheets of the bed were void of any dust – she thought, as she felt the smooth clean cloth under the hand she briefly placed on the corner of the bed, to see the portraits better. The pictures were either displaying his mother or his father, or both, often during awards or goofing with each other. There was one where his mum was eating a phenomenal cotton candy. And there was even one when Kuu was in Katsuki character, the original. She recognized the outfit and the pose.
There was none of him as his younger self, though.
She stood back, turned in the direction to the bathroom, noticing a backpack who had seen better days. At the angle, a couple of shelves hung with old magazines on animals and acting piled up. A few hiking ones too. And dusty filled binders. School ones? She wondered.
The more she saw, the more curious Kyoko felt. She had to take a grip to not bolt to see the next thing and the next thing, and she held her hands behind her back as she moved. She slowed her movements, her steps, too. Making her gait and presence as smooth and airy as a feather. Taking care of the overflowing joy she felt in a forced laziness and quieted moves while she mentally wrapped the pleasure of this exploration in her arms. The shaking gold of her happiness rattling at her lips to bubble out, because he had cared to show her, and because she was allowed to see.
A big trash bin filled with ripped scripts and glass shards that appeared to have been a bottle or maybe a water glass, and even a torn tee, stood near the door. She could see many coloured notations on the heap of papers, made by his hand – she could tell – it was his handwriting. Even without seeing, she could nearly imagine a scene of ripping those or throwing that bottle, it was like the whole bin was the reflect of unhappy times.
She moved away, not liking the helplessness she felt about it, seeing this and knowing it was from a time he had been on his own.
She went to the window, and tilted her head when she noticed a little case, filled with beautiful stones of different sizes. All very colourful, some semi-precious. But all, exposed like treasures in their own. She couldn't help the full grin that exploded on her face. So, he had been a fan of stones since the start. That was so… She swallowed the emotion for later, she could feel his eyes on her back as she looked around. She felt like a prey watched by an eagle. But he didn't say anything. So, she twirled to her left and continued to observe what she could see.
She bumped her foot into something as she moved, only now noticing the stack of scripts by the bed and against the left wall. There were several piles of them. Some seemed used, and had many dog-ears and notes, others seemed untouched and more neatly piled. Yet, even when they seemed unused they had that thickness only some old impressions and scripts could have. She had studied a few. She smiled fondly. He had really spent a freaking time analysing scripts. She didn't dare to touch anything and stood back. In the corner, a small hatstand has a cover hanging from it, and she held back a giggle. He even had had a blanket to stay sitting and reading those on the ground, she could totally imagine it.
That's when she pivoted to the last noticeable furniture of his room. A long washed chocolate-brown chest of drawers stood on the left, paralleled to the bed, and just after the foldable panels she thought hold his closet.
Only one object rested on top of that dresser. A frame. No embellishment or flourish decorated the square structure, it was- for all its worth – , a humble frame. The way it stood, alone and imposing – without anything else on that dresser – said otherwise to her, however.
She took a few steps, and looked closely.
Three people stared back on the picture. Two men and a beautiful lady, in front of a little porch. It took her a second more than usual to recognize the young man held by one arm around his shoulders, by the older one. But she did. Corn. He looked so young and demure. More like a teen than an adult. She wondered how old he was on the picture. His hair shined as much as she remembered but he didn't have his full adult size yet. Not that far from it either, however. Maybe ten centimetres shy. His shoulders weren't as broad, his hair was much more unruly, it gave him a full-rebel look. (He looked already quite mature, despite his traits that still let guess some of his youngness.)
He wasn't the adult she met in Tokyo, but not the boy she thought was a fairy, anymore. He was smiling on the picture. Slightly. But it felt kinda wrong.
And suddenly, she realized what had made it hard. It was his eyes. Oh, they were as beautiful as he was sporting them right now, even if you couldn't see much of it on the picture. But they looked positively haunted. This was no carefree smile. There were resignation and despair in his stare. Plastered with a slight relief in the company of his friends.
The innocent and joy she remembered he had when they had first met appeared to have been shredded apart by things she never wished to have ever seen on him. It wrecked her insides to look at this sight of him.
And then, her gaze switched to his friend, looking properly, and she knew. Maybe it was the tint of admiration in Ren's eyes. Maybe it was the protective stance of the older man towards the young Kuon, even as he held the young lady hand. Maybe it was their grins. Or the trust she could see.
It didn't matter. She knew. The young man with a carefree confident smirk was Ren's former friend. Rick.
It could only be him.
Yet, she couldn't help but voice her need for confirmation.
"Is that – ?"
She heard steps behind her as he joined her and came close.
§§§
He watched her step into his old room with a form of anxious giddiness settling into his guts. Memories washed over him as he looked through his old stuff and as he looked at her.
Her tall form kept twirling on itself as her eyes looked around, and her hair dangled beautifully left and right behind her back as she moved softly on the ball of her feet. She looked scared to touch anything or disturb anything. Her ghostly moves were slow and delicate, as if unconsciously she knew how much it meant to him to allow her here. He scoffed. In those rusty old memories, it should have been nothing but vague shadows of the past. But he felt such a surge of the past coming back here.
He could feel a form of shyness upon her being a witness of his dusty room. He had wanted to show her, it felt like coming here with her, at his childhood home, and room, was giving her final access to everything. He had nothing else to hide, no past, no memories. He would even reply her questions if she asked.
It hadn't been even fully conscious when he had decided he wanted to show her. Just a subtle feeling of not wanting to dissimulate anything to her. Further than that, it was not just a question of not having secrets, but more about wanting her to be part of this, to be in-the-know, to know every side of him. Even the old rusty, less gleaming ones.
So, Ren had that insane burst of relief, just from her being a witness of this. And as irrational as it was, he felt closer to her this way.
But it also felt like she had tumbled right onto the open material display of one of the most intimate parts of him. One he had no control over. One he couldn't reformulate before letting it out. One he couldn't filter before giving it to her. Because it was all there to look. It gave him the urge to shuffle and squirm like a kid, or like a guinea pig under a microscope.
But it also felt good. It was a weird feeling of not being able to breathe, yet being able to breathe fully for the first time in a long while.
He loved she was here, in his childhood room, with him, that she had access to this part of him. He loved that she was here in his parents' home and his childhood one. He wanted her to feel welcome.
He wanted her to feel she could have a family from him and his parents.
He loved seeing her so excited about the house, and know how she felt about it, and watch her imagine fairy tales just looking at it. He couldn't wait to show her the garden, really.
He felt so overwhelmed finally reaching this place where he could show her this and not feel too bad about it.
His eyes followed her movements as she came closer to the pictures on the walls. It was pictures of his parents. Some, when he had been there, to witness some of their successes. Other pictures had been taken by himself. Sometimes, when his parents were being silly. He had one of his mum at a funfair with him, ravaging cotton candy. It had been truly hilarious to see. The thing had been thrice his mum's head size. He was nine. He thought it was one of the last time he had so much fun without having acting always at the back of his head, and being so preoccupied or bullied he hadn't had time to enjoy fun anymore.
He thought he had taken a couple of pictures of his mum eating the monstrosity, and had run away when she had tried to share it with him. He had laughed when his dad had come back with more food and had stolen some of the cotton candy from the stick. His parents had mock-fought over the piece of fluffy-sticky stuff, before kissing. Which had made him walk away to do a couple of tours on a roller coaster. And then him and his dad had played a couple of times on the bumping cars. It was funny and innocent and one of his only good memories.
He couldn't help but smile, glad he had, after all, a couple instances he could remember fondly.
The other pictures of them were, just some he had hand-picked because he loved how they looked, looked especially happy or were acting. For all of them, he had been still fairly young. It was before, or just after meeting her.
His stare returned to Kyoko to mirror his thoughts, and he saw her smile at his old collection of stones. He could just guess what she was thinking. He had always loved these kinds of things, and his father used to bring him back unusual stones from his trips when he was much younger.
She continued to look around, and he was kinda shocked by how much curiosity he could see shine onto her face. For her to be here, he knew it was special for him. But it was still just an old teen room at most. Not the most interesting thing to see. So, it fascinated him she was so interested. It also fed his ego if he was honest.
He saw her bump into his old scripts – God, did he have read and read them in hope to understand better the characters and audition for some of the roles – , she straightened the pile conscientiously, and looked up. He craned his neck and made a few steps. What was she looking at?
And then she was laughing, deeply amused by something he didn't understand, and he was lost in her smile as she observed his old blanket hanging from the small coat hanger his dad had set up all these years ago, when he had noticed he spent so much time sitting on the ground to read scripts. How could one smile glow so much for such odd thing? It was like her eyes were dancing at a new information, soft and laughing.
He was about to ask when she turned again.
He witnessed the instant her eyes fell on the picture, and he held his breath, just as the familiar echoes of the pain reignited in his chest, when his brain treacherously provided and reminded him who was in the frame. His feet led him close before he could process the thought, just as she spoke.
"Is that – ?"
And then he was there. Just behind her. Looking over her shoulder. His eyes landed on the people. His young self, looking uncomfortable, yet so happy to be here. To be friends with what he had considered one of the coolest guys at the time.
His gaze glaze to the familiar figure. Looking as prime and grinning as ever. A few dips and crinkled lines showing around the eyes, and one corner of the mouth drew his expression into a free look, from too much laughing. Ren used to tease him he would get wrinkles faster with the way his whole face contorted when he smiled. There was not one sign of worry or unease in his posture. And his attitude towards life had fit perfectly with that. To the point, where he had witnessed Tina scolded him for being so carefree, sometimes. And Rick would always reassure her and tell her he could be serious when he was needed but that he would not be taking life as if it were a chore. That there were much more important things, and too many incredible adventures to live to gloom around like a scrubbing mop.
And when Tina would ask Rick what was so important, his friend would take her hands and laugh, before exclaiming things like: 'Love, Joy, Friendship, dear. Acting… Creativity. And so many wonders to discover.'
He would look so innocent and passionate, Tina would look at him with a bemused look, sometimes shared with Ren when he was the witness of such declarations. She would never deny those, however. And nor would Ren. He was the most innocent of them three.
Tina had been the more realistic one and Ren had leaned in that direction but more out of bitterness than true attachment to practical things. Or, if he had not been jaded about something, yet, then he had been utterly clueless about 'how' that something worked or was done.
His old feelings glowed alive inside of him as he observed his frozen old friend's wild smile, of how much he had looked up to Rick, how patient his friend had been with him, and how awesome he had been with him. Rick had never looked down on him. He had considered him his equal. He had never used his older age to belittle him. Sure, he had often asked advices to his friend. There had been so many things he was struggling when he was younger. Some, he still was. And his friend had replied genuinely. Always. He also often gave pointers or just, directly helped him. But it was never patronizing. And while his friend had recognized he was young, and could be ignorant about many things, Rick never blamed him for it. He would help if Ren asked. But when he had come to just spend some time with him and Tina, he never forced anything. On the contrary, he would honestly admit when he was ignorant of something too, and if Ren knew about it, he would listen earnestly. He would sometimes jest about it and tease him but never in an unconsidered or hurtful manner.
He had always felt considered and heard and taken as its own being when he had been with his friend.
He had truly been a light in his wrecked teen life.
And then, that light had been taken out.
"Yes… It is Rick."He whispered, and even he could hear the pain that still coated his voice. "… And Tina, his past fiancee." He added in the same fashion. She didn't ask more, just looked at the picture for a while.
"And you?"
It was phrased as a question when she spoke again, but he knew she had recognized him.
"And me."He replied, trying to sound lighter.
She was still looking at the frame and had an undistinguished look in her eye. She approached her index finger to the him at the centre of the picture, but stopped, just shy of her finger grazing the glass protecting the portrait of time.
Her voice was barely above a murmur again – just as his had been – when her soft tone came.
"How old were you?"
He came around her and delicately took the frame – thinking he might take it back with him this time – , and looked at his young self on it. He didn't remember exactly when the picture had been taken, just the joy that day had brought with Rick. They hadn't done anything special. They had just lounged around talking about acting and joked with each other. But, in his memories, it had been free of any stress or violence. And when he had come back, both his parents had been there and they had shared one of the rare meals during his teens where there had been no tension in him.
If he was honest, a whole lots of moments had become blurred or just blanks. He could remember the most memorable stuff that had happened during those years. But those events were surrounded by lengthy white clouds that hid everything else from situating himself from away of when those moments happened. Like nothing but those couple of moments had had no importance whatsoever. If he were to take a closer look and analyse a bit, he was sure he would think it looked like a traumatic response.
That was not something he wished to do now, however, and he shrugged off the bothering thought to observe himself again.
His shoulders were a lot thinner and he still lacked a good couple of centimetres to reach his adult height so this was definitely before he reached sixteen. But he could see how wrecked he already had been, despite how much his young self had tried to dissimulate it behind smiles. He hadn't dropped so deep before past fourteen.
"Barely 15, I think."Said Ren after a prolonged pause.
He brought the picture with him and walked back to sit on his old bed.
She turned in his direction but didn't follow, so he pat the spot besides him on the bed.
She smiled as she came to sit near him in silence. She intertwined her fingers as they rest on her thighs, her left shoulder grazing his right one.
A comfortable silence settled, and she didn't try to break it. He felt his lips draw a low smile, and he closed his eyes, knowing exactly what she was doing. She was waiting. Patiently waiting to see if he wanted to speak about it or not. If he didn't, he knew she would not ask a thing that could put him at unease.
"It brings back so many memories…" He let out after a deep inspiration as his gaze returned to the frame in his hands.
"I can't even imagine…" She replied, before stopping and he saw her looking at the picture too.
His mind lost in ghosting memories, he let himself be washed over by them, and spoke.
"He was a welcoming person. Especially to me. Always fair and attentive to everyone. Never belittled anyone for a difference. Always noticing my mood swings." And as he said that, he looked at her with a conniving smile, which she returned.
"No trick or lying smile to fool him?"
Ren shook his head.
"He was too perceptive," he glanced at her again, "Just like someone I know."
"I think I would have liked your friend."
A strangled snort came from him before he concurred.
"He would have liked you. And you would both have made fun of me, bonding over bullying me."
She nodded merrily like it was the wisest most evident thing to do.
"Seems like the perfect plan. You would have made a lovely victim."
He laughed, disbelief colouring his thoughts that he was able to do so while talking about his past friend.
"I would not have stood a chance."
"With all the toolbox of tricks you have, Mr. fairy, it is the minimum to be on equal footing."She said with proud conviction. His hands started to shake, and he tried to reign himself in.
"I wish I had seen that…" the last syllable plunged like popped balloon despite his efforts.
"Your friend… Rick. He looks like a kind man."She murmured, and he was about to reply 'he was' when he realized what tense she had used.
He realized tears were running down his face only when he felt her move, and her arm circled his waist. He thought about apologizing but the words that came out were others.
"Thank you… For using the present."
He closed his eyes and leaned against her. Quietly, they stayed against each other as his emotion cooled.
"Sorry, I – " he said when he felt he was finally back in control. Somewhat. Seriously, it was like she always managed to bring out everything he hadn't planned to show her. He thought he would reply her questions, not this.
His apology was cut off when he saw the softness and understanding in her eyes, and before he could stop her, she brushed the wet traces away from under his eyes. Stunned, he remained motionless as a creeping feeling settled instead.
"Kyoko…"
Of all the embarrassing things… Seriously.
He grabbed her hand and stopped her.
"I can do that."
"I know. Sorry if it was a bother."
He dropped backwards, hiding his face behind a lifted arm as his legs pressed down against the side of the bed and the ground.
"You are not making this easy."
"Crying is not bad."
"No. But I keep being a mess around you."
He felt her move, and he removed his arm to see her tilt above him and look at his face.
"I don't think so, you look normal to me."
"I assure you."
"Are you sure you are not overthinking it?"She asked as she pulled her hair away. And the combine view of her above him doing that made it even worse. He rushed to drop back his arm over his eyes.
"Positive."
"In which ways, then?"
In every way possible, and many more I could never have imagined.
"You are worse than me when you tease."He commented dryly.
He heard her giggle.
"You consider yourself teased, right now?"
She didn't ask more but he could feel her stare.
"Are you done?"He enquired, with a grumble. But when he lifted his arm, he saw her grinning with the most satisfied expression.
"It is a struggle. You look adorable embarrassed."
He groaned loudly, and raised both his hands in surrender, smiling with resignation.
"Have mercy."
Heavens above. She could not call him that.
"Fine. I will spare you."She said but he could still feel how deeply amused she was.
"So, did you used to play basketball?"She asked, and he was so grateful for her magnanimity and the change of subject she chose.
"When I was young, some."
"Really?"She asked, and the curiosity on her face about such a silly subject warmed his heart and finished to pull him out from his dark memories.
He nodded.
"Dad taught me when I was very young, and up until 11, I think, I used to play with some comrades occasionally at the local street court," he explained, trying to remember. It felt so foreign for him now. And he hadn't held contact with any of the people he might have known at the time. Not that he had been that close to them, to begin with.
He sat back, thinking.
"I could show you." Things might have changed but maybe it was still there.
She smiled at him.
"What part? The court or basketball?"She enquired and he wondered about the weird glint in her stare, "because I would love to see all the places that made your childhood", she added.
He felt there was a but in that.
"Not all places are funny."He said, sobering.
She nodded, the acceptance and trust in full display – and the balloon of emotion swell inside him again – , but her interest remained intact.
"I can think of a couple of things you could like to see, then." He returned to his earlier interrogation with what he hoped was nonchalance. "But. There was something you didn't tell me."
She smiled again.
"Not interested in learning basketball?"Not that he didn't understand her if she didn't want to. Plus, he was probably rusty. "I could probably rope my dad in for a game, too."
Kyoko grinned at him wickedly.
"I would totally be up for that, but you don't have to show me."
That's when it hit him.
"You know how to play."
She nodded.
"Kyle taught me."
She never ceased to amaze him. He turned a smile he knew evil in her direction, as he felt the excitement won him.
"Now, I have to rope Mum in too," he said, "it would only be fair we get to play all." His mum used to bow down when he and his dad would play. Even if she was perfectly able to play basketball too.
She lifted her hands, chuckling, and God, did he love when she closed her eyes, her smile brightening her whole face.
"Hold on, hold on. I'm no expert you know. I know the basics and – "
"How many times did you play with Kyle?"He asked, not deterred. He would be a fool to not chance this. It was yet another thing he ignored, about what she did during her time here. Plus, the sheer fact it was something he could do with her, too, made him giddy. Also, the last time he challenged his dad to a game, he was 12, and despite his agility and knowledge of the game, he had still lost big time against his dad. He had been a good head under his dad size at that time, and far less strong. And this was both a game of size and strength.
"I did only a couple of games with him and some others of his friends." She replied, her hands still up in the air. "I'm not sure – "
He was about to ask how many but he stopped.
It didn't really matter, now that he thought about it. He trusted her. If she said she knew how to play, then she knew. And she tended to tone down her capabilities when speaking about them.
He saw when she took notice he didn't look discouraged at all, and she sighed, looking resigned but unconvinced, still. No way was he missing this, though. He took her hands.
"Kyoko, the last time I played basket with my dad, I was this tall," Ren started, standing and showing a section near his diaphragm level, "Barely ten centimetres higher than when you met me as Corn."
She smiled a little and he knew she was remembering what he looked like at ten. He continued, after a poignant pause and locked eyes with her.
"I miserably lost because I was way smaller, and I still remember my dad telling me to come back in ten years and try again."
Her lips were twitching and he knew she was holding herself back, but he wondered how it would feel to kiss those lips when they were wavering like that.
He shifted his gaze to a pleading look and took back her hands, like it was the most essential thing of his life, and she squinted her eyes, totally seeing he was overdoing it on purpose.
"Please help me beat my dad on basketball and regain my honour."He pleaded, oh-so-seriously.
"Pfffr."
Her control broke. He had thought it would only be one dignified giggle, but it turned into a fit, and tears brimmed the corners of her eyes, as she replied.
"Fine. I will help. But no complaint if you comrade of crusade isn't skilled enough to help you regain your honour, young knight."
He bowed down in gratitude but grinned like a kid, which made her laugh harder. He raised a pumping fist.
"I have size and age as my allies, I'll be fine." He swore vehemently.
She had been calming down but he saw her sides shake again, then.
"How shameless."
"I don't care.
They laughed as their gazes met.
They talked a little more afterwards. He explained the stories behind the pictures, which she found hilarious. And he confirmed to her he would spend hours reading scripts sitting on the ground, and trying to understand subtleties of some characters.
Soon after, Ren asked her if she could wait here while he would go throw the white gantlet of a challenge.
END OF CHAPTER.
PS: Yes, look at this, I'm surprised too. I'm back with another one and not two months, not even one- impressive really, passed.
Anyway, i hope you will love this chapter, because it was tough. And damn it, i feel like all those chapters are tough and emotional recently. And it isn't going to go down on that vibe, ugh. Anyway, i also hope i will have done it justice and that you will be impatient for the following ones. Just know i'm brewing more sneaky teasing stuff, and that ou should expand on your curse vocabulary while you still can.
Please enjoy this chapter and if you feel like it, feed the author with a comment on your thoughts concerning my insanity of a story.
Kisses, have a good end second half of November and let's all rub hands in prevision of the holidays season coming.
Mimagfan,
AUTHOT OUT.
