Post
by pip25 » Mon Jun 03, 2013 4:53 pm
Music track: Letting my Heart Speak
Something startles me awake.
I open my eyes, and see nothing but a small line of light running across the floor and up the wall in front of me. For a moment, I don't even know where I am, before the events of the day come back to me in a flash.
Right. The lights in the dorm corridors don't have switches. They automatically turn on before dusk, and after midnight they turn off, unless triggered by the motion sensors peering down from the ceiling. I guess my position on the floor put me into a blind spot - although a person sleeping with his back against the wall likely doesn't move that much to begin with.
But if the lights are off… then that line is…
I slowly turn my head to the side, nagged by this absurd fear that if I turn too quickly, the light may disappear or turn out to be some illusion.
Thankfully, this time it really isn't my imagination: Misha's door is open, if only ever so slightly. I can't see anything of what's inside, the light in the room is simply too blinding compared to the near-complete darkness of the corridor.
I only hear her voice. It comes from right behind the door, slightly above me. "It's really late, Hicchan."
I manage to force my expression into something that resembles a smile, although it probably looks more like the sick bastard child of that and a yawn. "It sure is."
"Shouldn't you be going back to your room? They'll find you here, you know~." Her words sound like she's also suppressing a yawn herself. I suspect she did not get a minute of sleep so far; the thought makes me feel a bit guilty.
Not guilty enough to leave, though. "I said I'd like talk to you about something, didn't I?… Anyway, don't stay awake on my account; I'll just wait here as long as you want me to."
I really hope what I said was at least roughly coherent; it kind of rolled off my tongue before I realized what I was doing. In my current state, I don't think I can consider my words even if I tried.
A few silent seconds pass, and my dazed contemplation is put to a halt by light filling the corridor as the door slowly creaks open.
I guess I should take that as an invitation.
It takes me a few more moments to realize that I need to get up. My feet simply refuse to cooperate, and I find myself trying to pull my body up with just my arms while grasping the door frame for support. I nearly fall back down, but somehow manage to regain balance. With the same momentum, I stumble into the room.
Blinking profusely to adjust myself to the light, I let my gaze wander around. I don't think I had any kind of preconceptions about Misha's room, but even if I had, they most certainly would have been proven wrong.
'Multi-layered' is probably the best phrase to describe it. As base you have the same earth-toned walls, cupboards and bed sheets that can be found in my room, completely generic, lacking any kind of personality. But that's just the surface: looking more closely, you can see a few touches here and there that still change the atmosphere of the whole.
The books on her small shelf seem to be categorized by color rather than author or title, the covers forming a rainbow-like pattern together. There's a small, grumpy-looking teddy bear sitting in the corner of her bed, wearing eye glasses and a T-shirt with the text "Don't Mess With Me" written on it in fancy letters. It has an almost eerie resemblance to Shizune. The few pictures hanging from the walls are actually photographs, most likely of family and friends. On one of them, I spot Lilly and the aforementioned council president behind what seems to be a stall during a previous Tanabata festival, wearing waitress outfits.
Behind the two stands a girl with a tray in her hand. Her hair is long, its color brown, not pink, but the look on her face is unmistakable.
And then there's the pink alarm clock. I'd say that's the final touch, but it feels more like the final megaton punch. The clock face is decorated by dancing kittens. The hands sparkle. Sitting on her wooden bedstand, it looks so out of place in the entire room, you can't tear your eyes off of it.
Misha herself stands in the middle, still wearing her school uniform. Her eyes are cast down in resignation. It's obvious that I forced her into this. That does not bode well for my chances, but if I've been seriously considering those, I probably never would've dared to come here.
My legs still feel weird, so standing here for too long isn't likely to be a great idea. The side of the bed looks almost inviting right now.
I run my hand over the beige covers as I sit down, before glancing back to Misha. "Any good food in the cafeteria today?"
Good grief, that was so awfully random. She appears to think so too, if her bewildered look is any indication.
"…What?"
"You mean it wasn't good?" I insist. I'm not all that sure what I'm insisting on, but I still do.
Misha spends a moment either grieving for my sanity, or contemplating throwing me out of her room. I find myself hoping it's the former, as sad as the fact is.
"Hicchan~, you know the food in the cafeteria is terrible," she finally replies with a pout.
Phew.
"Terrible for you, maybe. It sure beats eating in the school grounds. I swear, on some days there's nothing but the grass there."
I wouldn't think there's anyone in the world who'd laugh at a joke that lame. But, after a second of wide-eyed staring, Misha does - and I feel grateful for that.
"Haha… Poor you, Hicchan."
If anyone has any idea about where this conversation is going, please let me know, okay? I'll just continue on in the meantime.
"Oh, so you think the sad tale of my suffering is funny? Heartless, that is what you are." I gesture dramatically towards the scowling teddy bear on the bed. "I think she agrees with me. Look at the disapproving glare she's sending your way right now."
Misha smiles at the stuffed animal briefly, and then sits down next to me. I guess with the rooms only having one chair each, it's to be expected, but it still feels really odd how we always end up in this position. Not that I want to remember the last time it happened… or the time before that, for that matter.
"Are you sure she's not angry at you too~?" she teases me.
"You think she might be?" I return the question as innocently as possible. She rewards me with another laugh.
Hey now. Misha's laugh as a reward? That's a novelty. I guess it used to be so abundant, I never noticed its true value? It's like diamond… or maybe more like oil… or uranium… or I should just stop with the parallels already.
"She has really, really many reasons to be grumpy, doesn't she?" Her tone has a hint of melancholy to it.
I have a hunch about what she's implying. The toy's resemblance to that certain bespectacled, often serious girl is likely no coincidence. I can't imagine it being a gift, but maybe Misha bought it herself for the same reason.
"Well, I think she's jumping to conclusions." I manage to say that with more confidence than I thought, just before ruining whatever atmosphere of authority I might have created by pointing a reprimanding finger at the toy. "Bad bear, bad."
Another chuckle. The cynic in me suspects Misha being as tired as she is probably contributes a lot to my present success as a comedian. "You're being really silly today, Hicchan."
No kidding. I could not think up so much stupidity in days. But when I try without paying attention, it just comes naturally for some reason. Lucky me…?
"I'm serious about this though. I tried to tell her today, too, I said all sorts of things that sounded right to me, but it didn't work out in the end. She just insists on being grumpy. But you know what?"
Her golden eyes are fixed me. I have her full attention now. "Yes?"
"Just because she's that way, it doesn't mean we have to be. Or, well, I don't want to see you like that, at least. It's just… sad. Seeing you sad, I mean. You, of all people."
How quickly eloquence left me when I finally want to make sense… it really is an unfair world.
Once more, with feeling. "Remember that small tour around the campus the two of us took at the end of lunch break? Just before the bell, you asked me something I didn't really feel like answering. Well…" Take a deep breath, and continue. "I think I can do that now. I… I think…" Don't stall. "I think I care about you. A whole lot. Back then, I didn't believe saying it like this would be wise; I'm still not sure to be honest, but maybe I'm simply fed up with worrying about stuff like that. I want you to know that I want to see you happy. Like you said, we're friends, so… seeing you sad is just depressing, doubly so when I feel it’s my fault. Maybe I can't do any better than making brain-dead jokes about eating grass, but I don't care, I still want to do all I can to change that. Just… please… let me, okay?"
I have no idea when my hands found their way onto her shoulder, and I wince the moment I notice it. I risk a glance at her face, which confirms my fears: her expression is so uneasy, it nearly pains me to look.
Well, damn. No matter how roundabout the delivery was, we still ended up like last time, didn't we? Only it's a little worse, since we're in her room, and it may look like she has nowhere to run now.
But there's one thing I can do. I can leave.
I let go of her and rise to my feet. Thank goodness they seem to be working okay now. It's amazing how awake I feel all of a sudden.
"Well, I guess that's all. It was probably stupid to barge in here just to tell you this, but I felt I had to. Pretty selfish of me I guess, huh? Anyway, I'm really sorry for keeping you awake. Good night."
I turn around and head towards the door. I notice only now that, shockingly enough, it was wide open during the whole conversation. What if… someone came by and… eh, who cares.
Considering that, aside of my general intent to make things right, I had no idea what to do when I came here, I think I can say that I actually accomplished… something. Time to quit while I'm ahead.
I reach for the handle as I step through the threshold… but the moment my fingers touch the metal surface, I'm forced to a halt.
Music track: Breathlessly
I can feel Misha's arms wrapping around my chest from behind, immobilizing me completely.
This is not good.
She didn't say anything. I don't even see her face, let alone her expression. Still, her body language seems to speak to me as clearly as any word, signed or spoken, can, and what it tells me makes me hugely uncomfortable.
This is exactly what I've been trying to avoid. No, it's exactly what both of us were trying to keep from happening again, and yet… those arms embracing me are as real as they can be.
No need to panic, it's okay. I can still avoid going down this road. I gave in to temptation the last time and regretted it - I have learned my lesson.
All I have to do is walk away. Take a couple of firm steps and shake her off my back. She'll be sad, no question about it, but doing this would be a mistake. It's for the best, for the both of us. For--
…Oh no. Oh, hell no. Not this.
God damnit. Fuck me and my high morals. I'm sounding just like Shizune. Even our words are the same.
I'm… just like…
Damn it… all…
I pull lightly at the handle, and in a motion that seems to take an eternity, the door swings to a close, stopping half an inch from my face.
I'm an idiot. But I don't think that can be helped. I'm also a hypocrite, but no matter what choice I made, that'd also be a given. I just told Misha I don't want to see her sad about… half a minute ago. Call me a brainless, cowardly fool, but going against my word like this would make my stomach turn.
So instead, I'm going to do something that'll probably leave her just as sad - but at least, for now, I still have a bit of false hope that it somehow won't. How convenient.
She is pulling me backwards now. I let her. It only takes a couple of uncertain steps, and we land less than gracefully on the bed.
I roll over on reflex, and end up on top of her.
This is the worst feeling of déjà vu ever. Even that damn bed cover is the same color as mine.
I search for her gaze, but as expected she closes her eyes instead, opting to simply lie there, completely passive. Again, it falls to me to take her clothes off. I have a bit of experience with that now, at least.
As time passes and our bodies become entangled on the bed sheets, I feel more and more like an actor in a play. The occasion is different, but the script and the role is the same. It's a role that I hate, but play willingly anyway; after all, I can't deny that part of me obviously enjoys this, the same way it enjoyed the last such occasion. My movements are not half-hearted. The pleasure I experience isn't fake. But it does feel, nonetheless, very-very empty.
And Misha? How does she feel?…
I slow down somewhat, finally noticing one strange difference. Back then, I wished she would stop talking. The sadness in her voice filled me with guilt, and made me realize how foolish my choice had been.
Now, I find myself desperately hoping that she would say something. Tell me to stop, or to go on. Talk about the weather. Anything.
But she doesn't. Her eyes are closed tightly, and aside of a couple of soft moans, she stays completely silent. It's almost like she's concentrating… or…
…maybe… more like…
…enduring… what… I'm…
I stop completely. The air around me is cold, and my body feels like it's been frozen solid. That was the last straw.
For the longest while, it seems like the rest of the world has ground to a halt with me.
And then…
Music track: Innocence
I notice Misha looking at me. Not directly in the eye, but like she's searching something on my face - an answer to a question, perhaps. I haven't got the faintest idea about what kind of an expression I'm showing her right now, but I doubt it's anything encouraging, considering how hollow I feel on the inside.
I can feel her arms slide up from my back, entwining around my neck. The movement is oddly… delicate.
My head is being pulled downwards. I see Misha's face grow larger in my sphere of vision as she leans closer to me… and plants a soft kiss on my lips.
She once again rests her head on the bed as I stare at her, my eyes wide open. She has this tiniest… strangest… but still so very Misha-like smile on her face.
It's beautiful.
I can feel life returning to my limbs. The cold numbness is washed away by something warm… no, more like searing hot, scorching me from the inside. Her body, pressed tightly against my own, seems to burn with the same raging, unbearable flame, and yet I still yearn to get even closer to her.
Leaning down, I return her kiss with a passionate one of my own.
Her arms never leave my neck the entire way.