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Salad Days
Chapter Thirty
Non licet

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The rhythm of the drums followed his heartbeat. Eyes fixated on the tangled wires and cords, he could only replay the scene from earlier: Hikari with someone else, someone who wasn't him, or Daisuke. It was the first time he wished she was with Daisuke instead.

And on a fucking weekend, he thought bitterly. Since when has she expanded her social circle to other boys? He knew her too well to be playing around, but maybe she's changed. Maybe she's been spending more time with Mimi nowadays that could have given her such confidence. It could be, it could be. And it's been months since they've hung out.

After all, he himself had expanded his own social circle, thought that if he was to become a serious writer, he'd need to surround himself with experienced artisans. Hence he joined the groupie of a crack-loving-musician-also-beatnik-poet, not to mention Mimi's jailbird ex-boyfriend, Yoshio.

Now, firstly, he only did so because Hikari was the only one who matched his level of passion for the arts; and since her breakdown she was avoiding him like the Black Death. Neither Ken nor Miyako really care about his hobbies enough to give input – thus on a fateful February evening at Palette Town, he bumped on to Yoshioka Aoiyami, who was hoarding arcade tickets that night.

It was possibly the most anticlimactic Valentines he ever had, just like his love life. But of course, that aspect of his life didn't matter until today.

"Takeru, are you all right there?" called out Yoshio, who had recently changed his band's name from Cake the Cat to Lord of the Fries. His hair was now purple.

"I'm fine, Yoshio-san," replied Takeru with a smile. The band continued to play, and so did Takeru's inner mind theatre.

Then there was yesterday, too - a Friday:

"You didn't say anything about going to Kyoto, Koushiro-san," the brunette said in-between her munches. It was lunchtime, and for the first time in a very long time, everyone shared the same table.

Takeru couldn't help but notice how close Hikari and Koushiro were now. Did he just miss something? Or has it always been that way? He didn't say anything, and continued to listen.

"Todai doesn't have any computer-related degrees," replied the redhead.

Mimi, who sat beside Hikari, looked down to her soup, unusually quite. Her eyes remained stuck there for the rest of lunch time.

"That's a shame," piped in Miyako, who sat across Koushiro. "It's so far away from here,"

"I think it's great, Koushiro-san," replied Ken, who barely touched his food. "I might go there when I graduate from high school."

"How did your parents feel about it?" asked Daisuke, who was beside the blond. "I mean.. You'll have to be away from them."

"They felt sad of course," replied Koushiro as he cheerfully dipped his noodles with his miso. "But they support me."

"That's so great," admired Hikari. "I hope my family gives me the same support if I pursue Photography."

Unable to keep quiet and mum, Takeru spoke at last. "I think they will. You don't have to worry about that," he assured, expecting her to acknowledge him. He tried many a time, but kept failing.

Of course she still didn't, though. Didn't even spare him a look, and turned to the older brunette instead. "How about you, Mimi-chan?"

"Hmm.." Mimi playfully stuck her tongue out. "I don't know yet."

Everyone except for the two brunettes gave him either an empathetic or disapproving look. The group was halved: some thought Hikari's just too harsh, while others just wished Takeru would apologize (which he never did, by the way). Daisuke could not help but grunt out of disappointment and whispered to him, "I thought you were better than that, Takeru."

His train of thought halted as the entrance swung open, revealing his very agitated brother, Yamato.

"What on earth are you doing here?" asked Yamato out loud, his rapid and heavy footsteps overpowering the band's rehearsal.

"Hey Ishida!" greeted the vocalist upstage. But Yamato was too furious to even look at him. Yamato stood on front of his little brother's table, sternly looking at him.

"You can sit down, you know," said Takeru, trying to lighten up his mood while offering him his glass of soda.

Yamato could not understand why Takeru was here at the first place, but he was now regretting for letting him join his former band's groupie. After all, a fifteen-year-old shouldn't be in a bar, listening to the cuss and fuss of other men, but at home playing video games instead.

But there was no time for lectures. There were other things that mattered – such as that treacherous moment with Tachikawa Mimi not too long ago. The older blond sat beside his brother, poured himself some soda. He looked up at the stage to see who was playing:

"You're hanging out with him?!" exclaimed Yamato out of disbelief and anger, eyes, nostrils, and mouth in full circles.

Takeru squinted his eyes, crossed his arms and legs coolly. He was beginning to notice his brother's new fondness with throwing tantrums. "Uhh.. duh?"

"Are you actually telling me you now belong to his entourage?"

"Yes. Come on, aniki. Your band broke up. I need a new groupie."

Kicked me out, to be more specific, he bitterly remembered. "Nice try. You're not allowed to go here again."

"Oh come on now, that's not fair," argued the younger brother. "Besides, you know me. I neither drink nor smoke. I don't like having vices."

"That's beside the point," said Yamato abruptly, pulling Takeru by the sleeve. "What's happening to you, really?"

"No one at school is an artist."

"Too cool for school, you mean."

"Maaaaaybe.."

"I still don't like it." he snapped. Yamato was running out of patience. He knew Takeru was set off for an eccentric, artistic lifestyle, but this was just too intolerable. "If this is you trying to be Kerouac or Murakami, you can do this when you're twenty-one,"

"I can't believe you're undermining me," retorted Takeru out loud. His brash movement as he jerked away from his brother made a noise of the table; it was loud enough to catch the attention of the band.

"You're not going to hang out with him." snapped Yamato as he motioned his head to the purple-haired vocalist, much to his distaste.

Yoshio climbed down from the platform, heading towards their direction. Yamato dreaded every second he came nearer to them. This was the least of things he wanted to face right now: anyone related to the love life of Mimi.

"Fucking great," he muttered under his sparse breath, loud enough for Takeru to hear. Yoshio was smiling, waving at them. Unlike Takeru, who was in friendly terms with the man, Yamato turned his head away, grunting every curse he knew. He had always seen Yoshio Aoiyami, knowing enough about him and his past involvement with a certain brunette. Yoshio was unbelievably amiable and actually charming – boys and girls alike – and Yamato envied his musical style, too; with those in mind, Yamato treated him with neutrality, never showed or expressed anything that he knew more about this character.

"What brings you here Ishida? It's still too early," Yoshio took a stool, sat across them. His purple hair was as bright as his smile. "Got a new band now?"

Yamato briefly shrugged. There goes Mimi and the Moon, he bitterly thought. The best thing to do right now was for him to shut up.. if he could help it.

Takeru rolled his eyes, unable to understand his brother's antics and a bit relieved that Yoshio was there to cut them off in the middle of a lecture. Why did he even call me in the first place? he asked himself, since Yamato sounded very urgent on the phone. He hoped there was more than just reprimanding him.

"How's everything, Yoshio-san?"

"Well, see those girls over there?" Yoshio pointed out to the other corner of the place, specifically a table of girls. Yamato's eyes shot directly towards them upon the mentioning of girls. "they want a mixer with us,"

"Ohh," Takeru noticed that some of the girls were actually from Hikari's class. He didn't know their names, but the faces were very familiar. Apparently, it wasn't just him who was thinking about it.

"You do realize they're all under-aged, right?" spat Yamato from his stillness.

"How did you even know that?" Yoshio crossed his arms out of disagreement, and looked at the girls again. "And why would it matter? They're the ones who asked us,"

"And you're just going to go with them, without any regard of their status and yours?" retorted Yamato. Takeru could already feel his brother's temper by the way his fists clenched.

"It's just a mixer, Ishida," defended the adult as he held his hands up. "Take a chill pill, would you?"

Chill pills, he hated how this guy could still manage to joke around. He hated how he's preying on high school students here. Yamato's icy blue eyes met Yoshio's cyanide ones, sharply piercing through his irises. "Why don't you take one or would you like me to shove it down your throat?"

Takeru raised a hesitant hand on air, attempting to reach out and calm down his brother. But couldn't, for he was too afraid to hear another deadly remark.

Still calm and collected, Yoshio stood from his seat, turned his back. "You've got problems, man." he replied as he ran a hand through his hair before putting them inside his pockets.

And before Takeru could cut in between, Yamato had already lost it, his voice so sharp and high, fists as white as the snow.

"Problem? And I bet you enjoyed screwing Mimi over with you between your legs, haven't you?"

"Aniki!"

"You took advantage of a fourteen-year-old, and now you've been deported back here just so you can fuck over her life again and mess with other –"

The rumbling of the table and broken glass had cut him off, and soon Yamato had found himself clutched in Yoshio's fist.

Takeru, and everyone else, could only watch.

Aoiyami Yoshio didn't say anything, and just held him by his collar. His blue eyes were ravaging, purple hair turned almost black. Yamato wasn't sure if it was cocaine or his anger that made him look more intimidating, but he wished he had just shut up his mouth. He was running out of breath, but he was in no mood to show weakness. He responded with a glare instead.

"What?" he managed to croak with bravery.

"And who the hell are you to have the right to talk about her?"

"A friend."

"Well fuck you, you don't even know anything!"

"I know everything," he spat. "Mimi told me,"

"Everything?" Yoshio's voice rose, and so did Yamato's collar. "She used me!"

What the fuck?! "Excuse you?!"

"That Tachikawa! She was all over every fucking band dude in New York!" he spat, his hands shaking. "I spent all of my money for her crack only to find out she's doing the same with the other guy!"

"No, you used her," reinforced Yamato, remembering every word Mimi told him the night he found out. And Mimi cried that night so hard. "She was fourteen and you were—"

"I was in college and she ruined it by going to my place every night," he growled. "She was so insistent so I didn't object her, of course… her friends and family were so powerful how could I.. how could I, you know?! She was so insistent…And then her father.. the lawsuit.. I ended up behind bars!"

"Lawsuit?" Yamato echoed out of shock. Mimi completely left that one out.

"They took everything away," he croaked out of bitterness. "They dumped us back here."

Yamato's anger turned to confusion as he saw the tears in his eyes stream down to his shirt. It was eerie, creepy, and unsettling to see an assaulter look genuinely hurt. But his resolve was firm, and Yamato knew in his heart that Mimi was the true victim. He brushed Yoshio's hands off of him and pushed him away. He looked at his brother, who could only gape.

"No matter what you say, it's still statutory rape," Yamato managed to mutter. Still shocked and confused, he could not find the strength to say it loud. He stood up from his seat, legs almost trembling. He reached out for his guitar.

"Takeru." His brother followed obediently, head facing down as they both went for the exit. He glanced back at the man, who now sat back on his stool as he held his head. Yoshio's bandmates, the bartender and the waitress watched their every move.

Fucking pathetic, Yamato repeated it over and over until Yoshio was out of his sight.

They never returned to that place.

Walk on their way back to their mother's place was spent partially in silence. It wasn't until Takeru mustered his courage to talk to his brother.

"That was quite more than what we asked for." Managed Takeru.

"I shouldn't have blown up like that," replied Yamato, who was now regretting everything. "I shouldn't have dragged in Mimi's name,"

"To be honest, I didn't expect you could be so crass," half-joked Takeru.

"Neither did I."

"Mmi's legs, of all her features. I mean.. fantastic legs, but.. really, aniki?"

"I feel really bad for it." Yamato felt bad for several things today. The fight with her ex-boyfriend was just the surface.

"I won't hang out with him anymore."

"That's great to hear."

"But I'm proud of you, aniki." Comforted Takeru as he put an arm around his brother. "Defending Mimi like that.. makes me wonder what Taichi would do if he was in your place. Nonetheless, aniki, you're a real treasure!"

Yamato smirked, unable to look at Takeru at the eye. He just kept watching his footsteps. "I wouldn't say that if I were you."

"Now you're just being too hard on yourself."

"I called you for a reason."

"Yeah. I wondered what was so important that it couldn't wait later," laughed Takeru. "What is it anyway?"

Yamato stopped his tracks, looking for any strength left in him. Today was so bizarre. Everything that had just happened to him today was about Mimi. Mimi, Mimi, Mimi. She had plagued him completely. "Mimi and I.."

"What?"

"Mimi and I.. we kissed."

"You're kidding."

"I shit you not."

Takeru only stared at him, didn't know what to feel with everything that had just happened. He traced all the way to the fight earlier, then back to this freshly spoken news. What the fuck.

The younger blond turned around, continued to walk. "How did it happen?" he asked, his voice was void of any feeling.

"I was in her room." answered Yamato. Everything he said from that point on only made him feel shame. "I was teaching her how to play her ukulele. Then my guitar…."

"Then a cliché happened," continued Takeru for him. Yamato thought it was such a terrible yet accurate way to put it. "Did you like it?"

"Worse. I loved it."

Takeru inhaled the spring air, trying to consume everything. He wanted to say, 'I never knew you were a slave to your hormones, aniki', but couldn't – not to his own brother, at least. How sad he felt, to know that he was right all this time – that there was something between Yamato and Mimi – whether in love or lust. If it were any other time, he would have rejoiced for being correct. Now he just wished he wasn't, for he knew Taichi does not deserve their betrayal.

He didn't pry anymore and just asked his brother instead. "Are you going to tell Taichi-san?"

"No." replied Yamato flatly. There was just no way he could. "How can I?"

"Good." snapped Takeru. "I suggest you try to get out of it soon, aniki."

"Why so?"

"Because if I didn't know any better I think you're about to fall in love with her." after what happened back at the bar, Takeru was sure it was bound to happen. His brother's sudden outburst earlier has proven so. "You're confused, and you've been throwing fits everywhere."

Yamato had let his words sink in. Takeru was right about everything and he didn't deny them. He himself was starting to reckon he's now only a millimeter away from falling over heels with Mimi. Though, what probably made him feel worse wasn't because she already belonged to someone else, or because that someone else happens to be Taichi – but rather, judging from the events of today, she might have been lying to him about everything this whole time.