Learning the blues. Act 3: Scene 2 revives from the grave

[TheTealeaf]

Scene 11! After this scene we have the crescendo for Act 2. Some teenage over angst in this chapter and a little bit of family history.

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Act 2

Scene 11

Doin’ the jitterbug.

Hisao’s raised voice rouses me from sleep. He’s arguing with someone very nearby.

Sounds like a one sided argument though, as I can’t hear anyone else responding to Hisao’s raised voice.

Do I need to call the men in white coats? Has Hisao gone bonkers? Is he arguing with himself?

I yawn and stretch, stirring in the covers of Hisao’s bed. It smells of him, and it tickles my senses as I awaken. My good eye rackets open, and blearily I regard the tableau presented before me.

Hisao stands in his bedroom doorway, my brother looming in the hallway outside even though he’s shorter than Hisao. He looks pissed, tapping his whiteboard against his thigh.

Really, really pissed off.

The pair is staring at me as I yawn and stretch again, feeling muscles pop and stretch in my back. “Mornin,” I say mid yawn, jaw cracking.

[Good morning?] My brother signs, throwing his arms in the air, his way of showing his exasperation. [Do you have any idea how worried your friends are?]

I cock my head to one side. “Uh…” I trail off. A flash of memory pops across my synapses.

Thunder and lightning, some twisted up memory of a dream and… Fujiko and Misha. I feel shame creep down my spine at that particular memory. [Oops?] I offer lamely to my brother.

[Oops?] My brother’s hands explode into motion. [Shizune has been looking for you since six a.m., and you haven’t picked up your phone! Be glad I found you first!]

“I get the feeling you’re being told off,” Hisao says dryly. I give him a flat look as my brother fumes silently.

“I am,” I say bluntly. “Shizune is looking for me.”

“Why?”

I shift uncomfortably. “We were having a girly night in with some films.”

Understanding dawns in Hisao’s eyes, along with mounting terror. “So when they woke up you weren’t there, and they panicked.”

“Misha and Fujiko saw me leave,” I mutter sourly. I sign this to Arashi as well as I talk.

“Then why didn’t they stop you?” Hisao asks.

I shrug, burrowing my face into Hisao’s bed covers. “Don’t know.” That’s a small fib. I think they may have thought that I was annoyed or something at them. I left pretty abruptly during the middle of the… session they were having.

Arashi’s dark eyes are narrowed to near slits. He can smell me lying from a mile away. I simply return his look, and with a long-suffering heave of his shoulders he drops the subject. He makes a slashing motion at Hisao, and somehow, the message gets through.

[You should get out of here before Shizune finds you,] Arashi signs. [I have half a mind to turn you in myself.]

He’s being serious.

I cast an apologetic glance at Hisao. “Sorry,” I say with a light smile, “I may have got you in trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it. Risk and reward remember?” Hisao reminds me.

I swivel and place my feet on the floor, getting off Hisao’s bed, slipping on my shoes and putting on the coat I’d brought over last night.

“I’ll walk you out,” Hisao says. With a jolt I realize he’s in his running gear. “I was going to go running and then wake you when I got back,” he confesses with a gentle smile.

“What about running into anyone else?” I ask, as Arashi regards Hisao with no small amount of hostility.

[Cut it out,] I sign at him. He simply frowns at me again. [Why are you being such a pain? You know that we’re pretty much dating.]

[I know,] Arashi admits, lips pursed in a thin line, [but my brotherly instincts are telling me to thump him.]

[We didn’t have sex if that’s what you’re concerned about,] I sign, glaring at my brother. [Not that it is any of your concern!] I add with a flourish.

[Yes it is!]

[You’re not my parent!] I sign angrily, Hisao looking concerned at the speed of the signing. [If you lost your virginity to Shizune I’d throw you a party!]

That throws Arashi right off his argument. [I…] He blinks, shakes his head once then signs, [Fine, fine… Just never, ever throw that kind of party.]

[Don’t act like a parent, and I won't.] I get the last word in, and he simply gives a long silent sigh, shrugs and crosses the hall into his room.

“What was that about?” Hisao queries as we leave his room.

I chuckle and say with a teasing tone, “Arashi was channeling ‘brother mode’ and was worried that you’d made off with my chastity during the night.”

The color that Hisao’s face goes is an interesting shade - an odd mix of red, green and white. “Ah,” He finally says. “Is he… angry?”

“Worried he’ll come across the hall and kill you in your sleep?”

“Maybe a little?” Hisao says hesitantly.

“Don’t worry,” I say with a small chuckle. “I made a small threat and he backed off.”

“Do I want to know?” He warily asks.

I tell Hisao the half in jest threat I made to Arashi. The look on Hisao’s face is priceless. “Knowing you, you’d follow through with that threat!”

The Cheshire Cat grin I give him answers that statement.

As we cross the grounds, I’m thankful it’s early. One or two people give me a strange look, but it’s almost deserted. I give Hisao a peck on the cheek and head towards the girl’s dorms, while Hisao heads to the track for his morning run with Emi.

Shortly my feet draw me to the front door of the dorms. I swallow nervously. Time to face the music I guess.

I slowly push the door to the dorms open and gingerly venture inside. I’m almost on tiptoe, like a cartoon cat trying to sneak past a burly guard dog. I’m creeping my way past the lounge area when I hear tapping of feet to my left. I turn and face a rather angry looking Shizune.

[Hi?] I sign lamely, trying to give a little grin… and failing miserably.

The scowl on her face could crack rocks as she signs, almost faster than I can follow. [Where have you been?]

[Out?] The flippant reply does nothing to soothe her ire as she stomps her feet, signing once again.

[Do you have any idea how worried Fujiko has been?] She signs, hands blurring, [Any idea how worried I have been? Misha? Why did you get up and leave?]

Best bite the bullet I think. [Had a nightmare,] I sign, giving a shrug.

[To be expected, we were watching horror films.] Shizune gives a dismissive gesture.

[It wasn’t about the films.] Shizune gestures at me to continue. [Memory. Childhood one.] There is a pause, and then I silently say sorry to Hisao. [Went and stayed the night in Hisao’s room.]

If looks could kill I would be vaporized on the spot. Shizune is pretty pissed. [Unacceptable!] She signs, but it feels more like a death sentence falling upon my head. [Both you and Hisao will be punished.] She signs firmly, nodding once. [But first you must get dressed!]

I don’t even have time to question she simply pushes me towards my room, up the stairs. I open my door, and the room is almost spotless. The pizza boxes are gone, futons rolled and tucked into a corner.

[Misha did this.] Shizune signs. [She only cleans when she’s feeling guilty.] She pauses. [Why? Why is she feeling guilty?]

Although phrased as a question it is unquestionably a command - one that I refuse to obey, as it is not my place to air Misha and Fujiko’s dirty laundry. Shizune undoubtedly knows about Misha’s preferences if the conversation I overheard last night was correct.

I simply stare at Shizune, the silence between us stretching into minutes. It simply screams that I know why Misha is feeling guilty.

Shizune cracks first. [Why?]

[Not my story, or place, to tell.] I shake my head as I sign. [I’m sorry for leaving and for making all of you worry.]

Shizune relents, very unusual for her. [Fine. But this conversation is not over.] She warns. [Your punishment shall be temporary enrollment to the student council along with your boyfriend.]

I can feel a headache coming on.

Paperwork.

Oh the humanity!

And I’ve dragged Hisao into this as well.

Sorry Hisao!

***

Shizune makes good of her threat, and both Hisao and I are turned into gophers for the student council. Hisao takes it in good humor, but the experience is incredibly awkward for me.

Misha can’t look me in the eyes for more than two seconds before looking away and Fujiko…

I’ve never seen her this way with me. She can’t even stay in the same room with me and refuses to look at, or even speak to me.

It makes my heart ache.

Fujiko and I have been friends since we arrived at Yamaku. As much as I’m not a social butterfly, Fujiko was even worse and incredibly shy. She felt that people judge her for her face, which is the main reason she grows her hair so long.

We became fast friends. I helped her break out of her shell, and she helped me through some of my tougher times.

She stuck by me through the dark times of losing Dad, even when I was lashing out at the world and the people around me.

It hurts for her to look at me with such emotion in her eyes.

Does she think I’m ashamed of her?

I’m not homophobic, I mean we’re at a school for the disabled, prejudice is something of a taboo here, so why would I even entertain the thought of being homophobic, and Fuji - sweet little Fuji, the girl who adores horror films - is my best friend. I don’t give a flying monkey who she dates, likes or fucks, as far as I’m concerned it’s a free world, and we’re allowed to live as we please.

Live and let live.

She’s even changed seats in class. Tatsuki sits next to me now, back from her emergency trip home. Her mother recovered nicely and is now just on the long road of physical therapy, so Tatsuki and Ichigo came back to school last week.

My head slowly rests against the desk I’m sitting at, and I wave the paper I’m working on above my head. “I surrender!” I croak out. “I’m done! No more… please.” The last part is said in a whine, and I can feel my wrist cramping from writing.

“I think we’re done when Shizune says we’re done, Ayane,” Hisao says with a dry chuckle.

“She’s a slave driver,” I grumble.

I feel a hand take the piece of paper from me, and I look up into the glasses of Shizune. [Had enough?] she asks, [has the lesson sunk in yet?]

[I’d still do it again in a heartbeat,] I stay stubborn and stick to my guns.

Shizune huffs silently, glasses glimmering as she signs. [Then your punishment continues.]

[As if you wouldn’t sneak into Arashi’s room,] I fire back.

I can feel my temper beginning to bubble. It’s been a week since this started, and my nerves are beginning to fray. Tomorrow is Wednesday, and then it’s the train ride home on Thursday evening for the three-day weekend.

Shizune signs back, a sweet and simple but very firm, [No.]

[Liar.]

The air between us is charged with an almost crackling tension. We meet each other’s gaze, and I deliberately brush my dyed lock of hair out of the way to bring my damaged eye into play.

I’m not above playing dirty.

There is only a small, almost unnoticeable flinch from Shizune but it’s enough for me, and I let a satisfied smirk emerge onto my features. [Don’t be a hypocrite Shizune! Let’s face it. Sooner or later you will find yourself in Arashi’s room or vice versa, and we all know that you won’t be playing risk in there.]

[That behavior is unacceptable in school!] Is her furious response.

I throw my head back and laugh. [If you think for one moment, that in a school full of teenagers, some with very short lifespan, nobody is fucking at all, then you have a screw loose, darling.] I use the vulgarity to shock Shizune, and it works.

I push back from the table and stand, as does Hisao. Out loud and signing as well I say, “We’re done here. No more.”

Shizune doesn’t even know how to respond; she simply stares at me.

“I think we should let them go Shicchan.” Misha’s melancholy voice shocks me out of my slowly simmering wrath. She’s talking and signing at the same time as she continues, “Ayachan is right you know. We can’t stop it and everyone is… careful about it. Even the faculty let it slide Shicchan, you know this.”

Shizune sits down and then slumps onto the desk. [I know.]

I sigh and turn to Misha. “Thank you.”

She still can’t look me in the eyes. “It’s alright, Ayachan. You know how Shicchan is a stickler for the rules.”

This wasn’t about the rules, I realize with a sudden start. This whole thing was about Misha. Shizune was trying to get me to spill my guts about the whole thing. She wanted to help her friend. “Misha,” I say aloud, getting the pink haired girls attention. “You should talk to Shizune.”

“About what, Ayachan?”

“Talk to her about you and Fujiko.” Hisao startles besides me. I simply shake my head at him, and he quiets down but gives me a look. I nod, giving him a look that says I’ll explain later.

“You should talk to Fuchan, too,” Misha says softly.

“Little bit difficult when she won’t even stay in the same room with me,” I complain, folding my arms with a huff.

“That I can help with,” Misha says with a small, sad smile. “She’s with the newspaper club at the moment, up near the library.”

“I know the place.” I begin to leave but turn around once more. “Thank you, Misha, and just for the record… I think you make Fuji happy.” The shocked yet happy look on Misha’s face will stay etched in my memory for a long time.

Hisao and I leave the student council room, leaving Misha to have a heart to heart with Shizune. “Want to tell me what that was about?” Hisao asks, leaning down to whisper in my ear.

“Misha bats for the other team as does Fujiko,” I state, snaking my hand into his. “They had a heart to heart during the girly night-in we had earlier last week. I… accidentally overheard it, then left, and that may have given the wrong impression to Fujiko.”

“She thinks you don’t like her sexuality.”

Ding! Give that man a prize! Hisao’s not stupid, maybe dense occasionally, but most certainly not stupid.

I simply nod to confirm his statement and then he says, - with a small twinge of nervousness in his voice – “And now you’re going to speak to her in a small room whilst she’s annoyed with you.”

I nod again.

“Why do I get the feeling I’m going to need to call the nurse?” Hisao asks rhetorically.

We head up the stairs. We pass some members of the newspaper club, and their eyes widen as they realize our destination. They signal us to turn back, but I simply smile at them.

It’s what my brother calls the ‘smile of death’. I brush my lock of hair out of the way and give a wide grin, all teeth and gums, my more pointed than average canines exposed.

Arashi has always and still does maintain that it looks as if I’m about to pounce and swallow him whole.

The two girls from the newspaper club – Ooe and Inoue I believe – back off almost straight away. Combined, the grin and my eye make for a very unpleasant image. Shaken the two girls run down the stairs, and I turn back to Hisao.

“Lets hurry before one of them gains some common sense and uses a phone!” I hiss.

I bolt up the stairs, Hisao lagging behind, continue into the corridor, making several turns before skidding to a halt in front of a plain door with a piece of paper that simply says ‘Newsroom’ tacked to the door.

I pause, gather my thoughts for a second, then barge straight in.

“Oh, Naomi did you leave something…” Fujiko’s voice trails off, and her eyes harden at the sight of me standing in the doorway, her hands tensing up above the keyboard, as she sits in front of the computer.

“Evening,” I say very casually as Hisao catches up with me. “Can you make sure we’re not disturbed?” I ask Hisao.

He nods. “But I’m coming in if I hear furniture being smashed or screams of any kind.” Then he steps out and closes the door.

I’m left alone with Fujiko. “Say your piece Ayane, and then be gone,” she says in a dead tone. She sounds beaten, a little world-weary.

“My piece?” I say, hands on hips. “I came to say I’m sorry, and I also came to say that you, my dear Fujiko are being an idiot.”

“Excuse me?” Fujiko’s voice just dropped to sub-zero temperatures.

“You. Are. Being. An. Idiot.” I enunciate carefully, still not moving from near the door.

“How?”

I sigh and move forward, speaking as I do so. Fujiko stays frozen in her seat, eyes darting around as if she’s a cornered animal. “Have I ever once said that I dislike you Fujiko? What on earth has possessed you to decide that I’m offended by your sexuality?”

I step closer.

“News flash to Ms Jakuzure, I don’t! Never have been, never will be, but I will always be your friend!”

There is silence for a moment as Fujiko processes and digests what I’ve just said.

Her eyes begin to water.

Her bottom lip trembles and she bursts into tears. They are heartbreaking, wrenching sobs as she bawls, “I thought… I thought…” She launches herself at me and I catch her in a hug, as tears cascade down her face, the rest of her sentence vanishing into an incoherent mess.

I feel her tears begin to soak through my uniform shirt. I let her cry for a few minutes longer, great hiccupping sobs, simply rubbing one hand on her back. “Misha’s good for you Fujiko.” I whisper, and there is a small hesitant nod against my chest.

“Why’d you leave?” She asks in a small voice.

“Had a nightmare, wanted Hisao,” I say candidly. “It was just bad timing, and I didn’t think about the message me leaving would send across… I’m sorry, Fujiko.”

“Why are you sorry?” She hiccups, “I’m the one that’s been a giant bitch to you! I’ve ignored you for a week! What kind of friend does that?”

“Role reversal then, normally it’s the other way around,” I joke, then get serious. “Fuji don’t worry about it, it’s what friends do, we forgive and we forget.”

She opens her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. “Water under the bridge.” I say firmly. She nods once then sighs.

“I’m going to be lonely for the three day weekend though.”

I grin. “I may have a solution to that,” I say cheerfully.

“Oh?”

“Akihiro reserved you a table at his restaurant on the Friday, his treat for you and one other person. He said he’d arranged something else as well, but you’ll find out after the dinner.”

Fujiko’s eyes light up. “Really?”

“You’re practically part of the family, too. So enjoy it, alright?”

A small smile crosses Fujiko’s face, and then she stands on tiptoes and kisses me on the lips. Her lips are warm and salty from her tears, and she tastes just faintly of roses. I rear back in shock and stare at her. “Always wanted to do that.” She confesses, one hand over her lips. “Always wanted to steal a kiss from you, Ayane.”

“I’m not sure what to think of that,” I confess. “Do you…?”

“Fancy you?” Fujiko says, stepping back to the computer and hitting several keys. “No, I’ve just always wondered what you taste like, and now I have my answer.”

“And the answer is?”

“Black coffee with a faint hint of mango and melon,” she says without a hint of shame. “Now shoo, I have a deadline to meet.”

I take that as my cue to leave, but as I open the door I hear Fujiko say from behind me. “Thank you, Ayane, for understanding.”

I simply smile, give her a wave and head out of the clubroom.

Scene 11 part one end.

[TheTealeaf]

Part 2 of Scene 11: 'Doin the jitterbug'

The following day arrives far too quickly for my tastes as I groan and roll out of bed. I wobble over to my desk, put my electric kettle on and then sit back down, stretching the kinks out of my back.

I stir out of my stupor when the kettle clicks and make myself a coffee. I drain the coffee slowly, along with my medication and blearily read the note I left myself on the desk.

To do list:

· See Nurse
· Speak to Akiho and Akihiro.

Well the second item on my list is doable now. Both of my siblings are early risers so they should be up and about now. I scramble for my phone and decide to phone Akihiro first.

He picks up on the fifth ring. “What dragged you out of bed this early?”

“Something called an alarm clock,” I reply sourly. “Just wanted to check to see when you’re arriving at home for the ball.”

“Friday evening,” Is his prompt response.

“Bringing anyone?” I ask in jest. The silence after the question is very, very telling. “No! Really?” I nearly squeal down the phone. “Who is she? She can put up with you?”

“You’ll fucking find out on Friday,” my brother’s embarrassed grumble, rumbles down the phone.

I drop the subject and move on to another topic. “And Fujiko?”

“All arranged and booked. Akiho sprang for some hot spring resort tickets, so one of the waiters will slip them to Fujiko after the meal.”

“Thank you, Akihiro.”

There is a snort from the other end of the line. “Don’t thank me, thank Akiho. She’s the one that organised it. I’ll see you on Friday alright? I’ve got to get shift started here.”

“Sure. I’ll let you get on. See you soon brother.”

“You too brat.” The phone beeps into my ear as Akihiro hangs up.

I put my phone down, head into the bathroom and perform my morning rituals before heading back into my room and picking up my phone again, this time phoning Akiho.

She picks up almost immediately with a short, almost brusque, “Ayane? Are you feeling well?”

“I’m fine,” I answer puzzled. “Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

“You’re never up this early.”

I feel myself wilt at the comment. “I’m fine,” I assure my sister. “Just ringing to check when you’re arriving at home.”

“Friday evening, depending on traffic I’m aiming for half past seven.” She says, and then her voice turns hesitant and almost shy. “And… I’m bringing Shirou, too.”

I laugh. “Well, that’s all four of us bringing a plus one then!”

“Even Akihiro?” The amazement in her voice makes me giggle.

“Indeed! We’ll find out on Friday, as he’s arriving Friday evening as well.”

“Wonders will never cease to exist,” Akiho murmurs in amazement. “I shall see you Friday then, Ayane.”

“See you then,” I repeat. “Have a good day teaching, Sis.”

That earns a chuckle from her. “And you have a good day in school sister.” The phone once again beeps in my ear as she hangs up.

One job crossed off my list.

***

The next and last job on my list I can’t carry out until lunchtime. I have to wave off Hisao and the others and head over to the nurses office.

The office door is slightly ajar when I arrive, and I knock hesitantly. “Come in!” is the swift cheerful response from the nurse, so I push the door open and venture inside.

The nurse is sitting on his chair at his desk, idly tapping the keys on his keyboard as he stares at the computer screen. He stops and spins on the chair and gives me a cheerful grin. “Ah! Ms. Tsukino how nice of you to stop by!”

I restrain myself from rolling my eyes and instead offer him the sleep diary I’ve been keeping. He takes the small A5 book and flicks through it, making small noises as he flicks through the pages.

“Good, good,” he says finally, snapping the book shut. “It looks like your sleep schedule is getting back on track. This does help, Ayane.”

“I know” I say flatly, “But it is hard.”

“I’m not doubting that,” he responds. “I am the one in charge of your health, but it’s a two way street.” He pauses for a moment and taps the book on his chin, brow furrowed in concentration. “How have you been feeling? No dizzy spells or nausea?”

“None. I’ve been positively healthy the past few weeks.” Nurse nods and checks the diary one last time.

“The only thing I would recommend is avoiding too many late nights. I see several in here. Most with Hisao or others studying and one sleepover. I’m not one to stop students from being students, but your sleep is important, Ayane.” I nod at his serious face, and he smiles again. “Okay, boring stuff over. While you’re here I have something for you.”

He gets up, wanders over to a cupboard, pulls a set of keys from his belt loop and unlocks the it. I hear him muttering something under his breath and tracking something with his fingers before he makes an “Ah ha!” noise and pulls out a pillbox.

Oh.

My face heats up as I remember the conversation we had here last time.

Nurse puts the box next to me and gives me a very wide grin. “As we discussed last time, some oral contraception. Should help with your monthlies too,” he adds.

I hold the box up. “Is this going to interfere with anything I’m currently taking?”

“I double checked with the doctors, and they’ve assured me that they won't. What I will say is they don’t come into effect for a couple of days, so don’t go engaging in any risky activities until then.” I feel the heat in my cheeks and just give him a swift nod as he chuckles. “Well then, that’s all from me, just pop back anytime if you feel you need to.”

I nod mutely then bolt from the room, the nurse’s “Enjoy the weekend!” following me down the corridor.

As I clutch the box in my hand, I realize I only have to pack and I’m ready for the weekend.

Packing is done after classes end for the day. One suitcase, my dress in a protective sheath and everything is packed neatly. Feeling rather impressed with myself I fall asleep with a satisfied smile on my face for a job well done.

***

I wake Thursday morning with a nervous twitch in my stomach.

I barely eat breakfast, and my coffee is tasteless compared to normal. As I place the cup back on the table I realize that my hand is trembling.

I breathe out through my nose and try to calm tattered nerves.

I look up at the clock. It’s half past seven in the morning. I groan, place my head on the kitchen table and realize that today is really going to drag.

***

By the time the final bell rings I’m almost a nervous wreck.

I leave the classroom, the happy babbling of my classmates floating around me. I find Hisao waiting for me in the hallway, a gentle smile on his features. He doesn’t say anything, simply takes me by my elbow and walks me down the corridors outside.

The day, although warmish, is slightly overcast, and clouds are scattered across the sky. “Where are we going?” I ask Hisao.

“To your favorite spot,” he answers me, waving a bag at me. “We’ve got several hours until the train leaves. Its four now, train leaves at seven yes?” I give a nod. “So we’ve got time to relax a little. Fujiko grabbed me at lunch and said she was worried about you,” Hisao continues. “I have some books, some drinks and we are going to sit down for an hour, so you can unwind. Am I clear?”

I snap a salute at Hisao and mockingly say, “Aye, aye sir.”

He snorts, slips his hand into mine, and we vanish out the side gate into the wood and head to my secret little area.

Hisao is right, I do need to unwind. The prospect of the whole scenario is screwing with me and throwing me all out of sync. As we settle on the soft grass and moss, Hisao produces books from his bag, sets a timer on his phone and passes me a drink.

I gratefully take it and pop the can open taking a hefty swig. I settle my head in Hisao’s lap and peruse his selection of reading material before deciding on re-reading the book I had lent him far earlier in the term, Storm Front: The Dresden Files.

What can I say, I like re-reading books.

We settle into comfortable silence for a good half hour, contently reading our respective books in the dappled shade of the trees.

It is at this point I put my book down and look up at Hisao. He’s looking down at me, an enigmatic look in his eyes. “You are so beautiful,” he says out the blue.

I think my jaw drops at his statement, and I splutter, “Where did that come from?”

Hisao shrugs “Not sure but it’s true.”

I give a small laugh at his corniness, “Shut up and kiss me!” I demand.

Hisao happily obliges.

***

We agreed earlier in the week that we would meet at the gates at six p.m. sharp.

Hisao and I arrive five minutes early, and my brother and Shizune are already waiting for us. We exchange greetings, and at six on the dot a taxi pulls up for us.

The driver is exceedingly helpful and loads up our luggage for us. I think he’s used to dealing with students from Yamaku as he doesn’t gawk at the rapid signing between Arashi and Shizune.

With our luggage packed, we make our way into the taxi and to the train station.

***

The train leaves at seven, and we make it to the station for just after half past six. The train is waiting in the station as this is the first station it leaves from. We make our way onto the platform with our luggage, and after showing our tickets we board the first class carriages.

All four of us are sharing a compartment. The sofa things can fold out into beds but we likely won’t be using them as our destination is only roughly three hours away.

Luggage is stored, and we settle into the compartment, taking the weight off our feet. I rest my head on Hisao’s shoulder and let myself drift to sleep.

***

The movement of the train wakes me up, and I find myself lying on my side, drooling slightly. I stir, rub my face and see Shizune look at me over her book she’s reading.

[Where are the boys?] I ask as I get into a sitting position.

[The train has a food car.] Shizune signs after putting down her book. [The tickets allow us to purchase food from the car up to a certain amount.]

I look down at my watch, and it reads ten minutes past eight. I’ve been asleep for over an hour. I stretch and yawn, and as I do the boys come back with plates of steaming food and chopsticks.

It’s some kind of noodle dish, and I devour it rapidly, satisfying my ravenous belly.

“Did you need that?” Hisao asks as he finishes his own plate several minutes later. I nod, and my jaw cracks as I yawn again.

For a moment I watch lights dart by the window as the train drives on in the night. I exchange a look with Arashi as he slurps the last of his noodles. He gives me a nod in return.

“I suppose,” I murmur as I settle my head in Hisao’s lap, “that it is time that you learn a little about the Tsukino family.” I see Arashi translate, and I sigh and gather my thoughts.

“First, Akiho and Akihiro are our half siblings. They have a different mother than we, and that is where we get the Tsukino name.” I see Hisao raise an eyebrow, and I explain further, “Dad was British, and it was in England where he met Akiho and Akihiro’s mother. She was British born and raised but was second generation, as her parents had come from Japan. Her name was Tsukino Amaya.”

“Your dad took on her last name?” Hisao seems confused.

I nod in response. “He did. Dad was… an unusual sort. Akiho was born in England, but the three of them moved over to Japan when Akiho was two. Akihiro was born a year later.” I pause and take a small drink to wet my throat.

“It was during this time that Dad began to expand his restaurant empire with the help of the Tsukino family. It was also during this time he met the Kurosawa family and my mother. She became his accountant and financial advisor and the business really took off. It was when Akiho was six and Akihiro three that it happened.”

“What happened?” Hisao asks, as I suddenly realize we’re laying side by side on the seats.

“There was a car accident. Amaya and her parents died.” I sigh. “The rest of the story goes on from there. My mother got closer to Dad, and two years later Arashi and myself were born.”

I see Shizune watching Arashi intently as he signs.

“But,” I say, raising my finger, “what I am most concerned about is my mother and her family, the Kurosawas. You’ve met one of my uncles already.”

“Gendo.” Hisao supplies, eyes narrowing.

“Indeed,” I say softly, “along with three others.”

“Three?”

“Three.” I confirm. I hold up one finger.

“The oldest of my uncles. Kurosawa Gin. Private accountant for various firms and individuals, some shady, always has a smile on his face, silver hair. Loves wordplay and all those kind of things. Has a vicious tongue and temper to match.”

I hold up another finger. “Next is Kurosawa Kabuto. Lawyer for the family, rich, loves young women, good food and wine. Fat, but don’t say it to his face.”

I hold up a third finger. “Third is Kurosawa Yuuki. Stockbroker, I think, no-one’s really sure what he does, effeminate, rest of the family suspects he’s gay. Has a thing for fast cars.”

I hold up another finger, “And lastly, the youngest of the male Kurosawas is Kurosawa Gendo. Blunt, mean tempered and all round general asshole; but you’ve already met him.” I say sweetly.

“How do you know all of this?” Hisao asks astounded.

“Akiho and Akihiro filled me in on some points, Dad told me some before he died, and other more distant family members and my grandfather on Dads side of the family all filled me in with various dates and facts,” I say with a shrug. “Mother is very cagey about details of her own family and siblings, so I had to do my own research.”

“How many people are going to be there?” Hisao asks, with trepidation in his voice.

“Direct family, family associates, spouses and partners, business partners. It’s a general ass kissing event. The main people who are likely to ruin our evening are our mother and uncles. I doubt Gendo will be at the dance, he’ll likely be organizing the cars and security.” I yawn and stretch, giving Hisao a quick kiss on the lips. “Wake me when we arrive.”

I then fall asleep, head on Hisao’s chest.

***

Hisao shakes me awake when the train pulls in to our stop.

It’s dark, and our luggage is being packed by a porter and loaded into our waiting car. Fortunately it’s not Uncle Gendo that is driving - one small mercy I suppose.

The car peels away into the night, and we drive for a half hour, the majority of the drive up a long winding private road. I can feel my pulse throbbing in my temple, and my mouth is dry with nerves as the car makes its way up the dark road, the only illumination coming from the headlights.

Arashi seems just as nervous as I am, and we silently take each other’s hands as we approach our childhood home.

Home sweet home…

As if.

More like home sweet nightmare.

This weekend can’t go fast enough.

End Scene 11.

[azumeow]

Still really enjoying this. Keep it up!

[AntonSlavik020]

That is one hell of a gift for Fujiko and Misha. And judging from the fact that You never see Shizune's room(at school anyways), and she only comes into your room once, I think Shizune actually could have been serious when she said no to Ayane's accusation. Can't wait for the next update!

[TheTealeaf]

Still really enjoying this. Keep it up!

Thanks meow! Reviews like this keep me going

That is one hell of a gift for Fujiko and Misha. And judging from the fact that You never see Shizune's room(at school anyways), and she only comes into your room once, I think Shizune actually could have been serious when she said no to Ayane's accusation. Can't wait for the next update!

Nah she'll just jump Arashi in the student council room! XD

It is one hell of a gift, we'll find out later how it worked out!

Thanks for your reply anton, replies always make me smile!

[CloudGrain]

Alrighty! Time for my apparently anticipated review!

I can't wait for what comes next.

Damn, waiting and getting two chapters in a row, more than just a few brief minutes worth of my relatively speedy-reading to sit back and enjoy was nice. But it made me feel like I was sitting back with a nice thick paperback that still had another hundred pages or so to go before I very suddenly hit the snaffu of blank-pages yet to be written on. Of course; this feeling comes just as a few 'little things' manage to wrap themselves up quite nicely with Fujiko and Misha, and a few of what I assume would be bigger events at the family gathering are just about to begin rolling. The dread and anticipation, the summation of Ayane's family... Oh it's going to be delightful to read what you're going to write.

I assume that comparing what could happen for/to Ayane to a train-wreck occurring in slow-motion might just do it justice. And I'll get to watch if unfold just like Fujiko watches horror movies. Rapt, anticipatory just as much of others' reactions as the story itself.

I'm stoked for it.

In regards to what you've written since I've given my last little review, rather than on what I hope to see in the future... It's still some primo material in my opinion.

It's the same in a number of ways, the way that Ayane and Hisao are growing a little closer and closer, the ways in which more is revealed about other characters to the readers. Taken almost for granted at this point, thanks to your writing style, but evolving slightly as Ayane becomes more of a... 'Bystander' to watching Fujiko/Misha for a little while. It's a new focus, which is especially welcome given that first-person narratives can quickly become stale if they revolve around only a single event or theme for the entirety. It's relatable, and comes to a neat resolution, providing relief from the building tension of the event which is promised to come.

Everything seems to be flowing together with a remarkable amount of 'naturalness' to it, if it makes any sense to use that as a descriptor. Puzzle-pieces are falling into place pretty precisely. Chapters flowing into one-another without so much a sense of staggering as simply being what was the natural-length of your sitting down to write.

I'd say to keep it up; but you have been and probably were going to regardless of what we say. So instead, I'll just say thanks for keeping it up and writing such an enjoyable-to-read story!

[TheTealeaf]

I can't wait for what comes next.

... bigger events at the family gathering are just about to begin rolling. The dread and anticipation, the summation of Ayane's family... Oh it's going to be delightful to read what you're going to write.

I assume that comparing what could happen for/to Ayane to a train-wreck occurring in slow-motion might just do it justice. And I'll get to watch if unfold just like Fujiko watches horror movies. Rapt, anticipatory just as much of others' reactions as the story itself.

I'm stoked for it.

-dances- reviews are like sweet, sweet wine to me and cloud your reviews are ones that I always look forward to!

As for your train wreck analogy you would be correct.

And just because I'm a cruel fucker, here's a teaser from Scene 12: The nightingale and her golden cage

And there, at the top of the sweeping staircase, is my mother.

Cold, aloof, regal and as approachable as a razor sharp shard of ice.

There is no denying her beauty though, the attractive lines of her face and the swell of her hips and bust. She stands, gazing imperiously at us all, clad in black velvet and emeralds glimmering at her throat.

Her dark, dark eyes roam over us and judge us all.

One.

By.

One.

And we are found lacking, judging by the delicate sniff afterwards. "And lo, my little nightingales have returned to the nest that raised them, for one of the last few times before they earn their wings." Her voice echoes in the stairway, her smooth cultured alto rolling over us, an ominous feeling to her words. "Your rooms are ready my little fledgelings. I do hope you enjoy your stay my guests." Her lips quirks into what approximates a smile and I am reminded of what Akihiro sometimes refers to mother as.

Mab, the faire queen of air and darkness, Queen of the winter courts, as beautiful as the tundra and about as approachable.

I don't feel like a nightingale here, more like a cuckoo that found its way into the nest.

Oh the joys of home.

[Oscar Wildecat]

And we are found lacking, judging by the delicate sniff afterwards. "And lo, my little nightingales have returned to the nest that raised them, for one of the last few times before they earn their wings." Her voice echoes in the stairway, her smooth cultured alto rolling over us, an ominous feeling to her words. "Your rooms are ready my little fledgelings. I do hope you enjoy your stay my guests." Her lips quirks into what approximates a smile and I am reminded of what Akihiro sometimes refers to mother as.

Ah! It seems the mom o' doom has a flair for the dramatic. Like a vampiress in her castle.

I'll have to congratulate you on this story, the upcoming encounter with with Ayane's family has me filled with dread -- a perfect emotion for the Halloween season.

[dewelar]

Okay, so I promised myself that I'd try to catch up with this if you ever slowed down your posting speed, and today I've got a bit of a block on the next chapter of my own story so I popped in for a look. The story's decent (I've only gotten up to A2S2), but I'm finding it hard to get into the characters. Also, this is one of those stories that feels like it's only connected to KS very loosely, which may explain the previous problem I have with it.

Sorry for the brief response. I'll probably come back to this story at some point later, but for now it's going on my back burner.

[brythain]

It's a well-wrought fanfic so far, but I agree with dewelar that somehow it doesn't seem very KS in some ways.
It seems to break cultural immersion in an unusual way, which works for itself but takes some getting used to.
Otherwise, interesting work and appreciated!

[TheTealeaf]

It's a well-wrought fanfic so far, but I agree with dewelar that somehow it doesn't seem very KS in some ways.
It seems to break cultural immersion in an unusual way, which works for itself but takes some getting used to.
Otherwise, interesting work and appreciated!

Yeah, I feel my 'Britishisms' are slipping through in my writing which doesn't help but I feel each and every chapter is stronger than the last.

Either way, I'm always glad for reviews, especially from big names like Dewelar and Brythain. It's nice to be noticed and appreciated.

My chapters are also betaed now so grammar is much improved from my beginning posts.

On the posts front, I've got scene 12 and 13 with my beta readers, so I'm hoping I can get them to you guys soon, for as the saying goes, shit is hitting the fan!

Peace out!

[TheTealeaf]

Scene 12 is here! There is a slight NSFW part later in this chapter, - I was actually embarrassed as I wrote it -

Still enjoy! Scene 13 is ready but will be released later in the week.

***

Act 2

Scene 12

“The nightingale and its golden cage.”

The car rumbles to a halt on the gravel of the drive, the scrunching, sliding noise of the stop of the car jarring after the near reverential silence that journey had.

The atmosphere has gotten to all of us. Shizune’s eyes are darting around, trying to take in as much detail as possible from her surroundings.

Arashi has tensed up a little - like a dog with its hackles up, poised for the fight-or-flee reaction.

Hisao has taken my hand in his and is rubbing gentle circles on the back of my palm with his thumb. He’s tensed up too, the line of his spine has stiffened, and he’s nearly ramrod straight in the car.

We all take a look at each other for a moment as if to brace ourselves for the plunge. I suck in a deep breath, open the car door and step out onto the gravel, a crunching sound echoing in the still night air.

I startle a little as the driver passes our bags to a silent attendant nearby. As the front lights turn on Hisao and Shizune get their first image of the golden cage that binds us.

There is no denying that my late Dad had an eye for impressive and awe-inspiring views. The front of the house is an imposing one, Greek styled pillar and columns frame the steps and front doors.

There are three steps leading up to the front doors, large, towering behemoths of oak with bronze knockers and door knobs. It’s a grandiose and over-the-top display of wealth.

As I was growing up, I thought it was the norm but as I went to school, leaving the safety of the gilded nest and interacted with my peers I realised that it wasn’t normal. The almost obscene house that I lived in began to make me feel uncomfortable.

Looking upon the front of the house makes me feel uneasy. The attendant has our bags and passes two of them to another attendant who has appeared quietly nearby. “Guess there’s no time like the present,” I say softly, taking no small measure of comfort from Hisao’s presence next to me.

We begin to walk towards the house, and I feel almost like I’m walking to my own funeral. We go up the three large steps, and the imposing doors are opened by the attendants in front of us. If this was a horror film the doors would creak open ominously, as cheesy music plays in the background, but alas this is not a horror film, it is real life.

The doors are well maintained and swing open smoothly as lights flicker on automatically in the hallway. It’s a long hallway, with two sets of doors, one on each side of the hallway. One leads to the dining room and the other leads to the ballroom.

The ballroom doors are another set of tall and imposing ornate doors, wreathed with delicate tracings of gold lace and other patterns. The dining room doors are plainer than the ballroom doors, but the door handles are made to look like chopsticks, a touch of my Dads humour showing in the choice.

The staircase stands before us, akin to the summit of Everest awaiting us.

And there, at the top of the sweeping staircase, is my mother.

Cold, aloof, regal and looking as approachable as an iceberg.

There is no denying her beauty though, the attractive lines of her face and the swell of her hips and bust. She stands, gazing imperiously at us all, clad in black velvet and emeralds glimmering in a line across her throat.

Her dark, dark eyes roam over us and judge us all.

One.

By.

One.

And we are found lacking, judging by the delicate sniff afterwards. "And lo, my little nightingales have returned to the nest that raised them, for one of the last few times before they earn their wings." Her voice echoes in the stairway, her smooth cultured alto rolling over us, and an ominous feeling settles over me at her words. "Your rooms are ready my little fledglings. I do hope you enjoy your stay my guests." Her lips quirk into what approximates a smile, and I am suddenly reminded of what Akihiro sometimes refers to mother as.

Mab, the faerie queen of air and darkness, the queen of the winter courts, as beautiful as the Arctic tundra and about as approachable, which is an appropriate metaphor for my mother.

I don't feel like a nightingale here, more like a cuckoo that found its way into the nest.

Oh the joys of home.

There is an extended beat of silence, and then with an almost imperceptible swish of cloth, my mother turns and leaves, vanishing into the depths of the upper levels of the house.

“That was your mother?” Hisao asks, voice breaking the silence that had held us all enthralled.

“That’s her,” I respond as we begin to follow the attendants.

Hisao muses for a moment as we begin to ascend the stairs and then says, “I can see the resemblance.”

I snort, “Physically yes, apart from my bust! Apart from that we are nothing alike.” I see Arashi sneak a glance at me from nearby, and I can tell he’s trying to resist the urge to make a comment.

I’m more like my mother than I like to admit. We both have that same vindictive streak; both hold a grudge and can go to great lengths to satisfy our need to ‘settle the score’.

Yes, I am more like my mother than I care to admit.

The stairs level out into a plateau of thick plush carpet, soft and fluffy against the feet it we weren’t wearing our shoes. The hallway is another long one, but with family pictures along the wall.

There are none of Akihiro’s and Akiho’s mother, Dad couldn’t bear to look at them. The only photos of her are kept in his study, and I only ever saw them once.

The portraits in the hallway are all paintings. There is one of Arashi and me at age eight, in our Sunday best, scowling at the artist. There is one of each of my uncles, Gendo’s inscrutable gaze pinning each of us as we walk by his image.

Hisao stops before the largest portrait. It is of my mother and my dad, forever locked in a pose of dancing in the ballroom below. Dad is in a tuxedo his lean face and stubble visible, brown hair messy and well ruffled, a splash of blood red in his breast pocket from a handkerchief, half of his face obscured by a mask. I feel my heart hitch a beat; it was the mask that the phantom wore in the musical, ‘The Phantom of the Opera’.

Dad’s eyes are twinkling under the mask, the artist managed to capture the light that was always present in his eyes. His mouth is creased into laughter as he spins my mother round the dance floor, her black dress billowing and spinning in the motions of the dance, her face lit up in a dazzling smile as they whirl around the floor.

She looks happy in the painting as she and Dad dance. I’m not sure if Dad loved her as much as he loved his first wife, but I have no doubt that he did love her in some way. This was taken before she became colder, before my uncles really appeared in the scene.

“Your Dad?” Hisao asks, looking intently at the painting. Arashi gives him a nod as Shizune stops and looks the painting as well.

“I think we were about six when this was done,” I muse, looking to Arashi who shakes his head and holds up seven fingers. “Seven then,” I correct myself. “But yes, our Dad, Connor.” Hisao starts at the odd sounding name, and I raise an eyebrow, “I did tell you that he was British remember?”

Hisao makes an “Oh” noise as he finishes studying the painting. He passes his gaze over the other paintings, Uncle Gin with his silver hair and fox-like grin, Uncle Kabuto with his round glasses and greedy smirk, Uncle Yuuki with his thin face and soft smile.

He comes across the last painting. It is of an older couple, one of them a very tall and broad man, who would have been powerful and even more intimidating in his prime, the other a delicate woman with greying hair yet still beautiful even in her old age. They sit on a bench, near a beach and are gazing into the sunset as dusk approaches. “Grandparents?” Hisao asks.

I nod. “Dad’s side of the family. They emigrated out here with him.”

The conversation peters out as we continue deeper into the house, passing by hallways and doors.

I stop outside the doorway to Dad’s study. It doesn’t look like it’s been opened at all, it would probably still be the same as the day he left it. The others have walked on ahead, and I linger outside, one hand gently brushing against the door handle.

My mouth has gone dry with fear or anticipation – I’m not quite sure which – and I debate if opening the door is the best of ideas.

I’m so out of it, I nearly shriek and jump out of my skin when Hisao gently takes hold of my elbow. “You alright?” He asks softly, looking at the door and me.

“Dads study,” I reply quietly, turning my back to the door.

Beyond that door, lie monsters and demons of my past, and I don’t have a sword or shield to defend myself. I let out a shuddering breath, take Hisao’s hand and walk away from the door.

I’m not ready to open that bag of memories that lurks behind that door.

“Mistress.” The quiet voice from down a nearby corridor spikes my curiosity. It sounds like one of mother’s maids. Hisao freezes next to me as we hear mother command the maid.

“Well, have they settled in?”

“Arashi has made it to his room along with his friend. He insisted that she stay in the room next to him even though we prepared rooms in the guest area.” The maid sounds a little annoyed but remains courteous and calm.

“It is of no matter, let him have this small indulgence.” My mother dismisses the issue like that and then carries on, “and what of my daughter?”

“She hasn’t arrived at her quarters yet ma’am,” is the polite reply give. “Although given her brother and his guest, I think that it is likely for her to request the same or for her guest to stay with her.”

I hear my mother make a noise of agreement. “Of course. Again, it is of no real consequence. If she makes an issue of it, then let her have her way, and if she insists the boy stay with her then let her, but inform me.”

“Of course mistress.”

My blood boils and seethes as I listen. No real consequence? Do Arashi and I matter that little to her? Can she not even ask me what I would like instead? Hisao’s hand tightens over mine. He meets my eyes, and the look he gives me clearly tells me to stop and calm down. I relent, but I can still feel my temper simmering under the surface.

The others have gone on, and according to the maid Arashi has settled into his room. I think that it is time for me to do the same. I take the lead and drag Hisao deeper into the rabbit hole, negotiating turns and corridors until we reach a well worn door.

It’s a light green colour and there in messy kanji is scrawled ‘Ayane’s room, keep out!’ A maid waits by the room, our baggage by her side.

“Mistress Ayane!" She chirps and smiles, giving a small bow. “A guest room has been prepared for –“

“He’s staying here,” I cut her off at the knees, and her smile falters. “Mother has already given me permission.” My tone is brutal and uncaring - and it is a small lie of omission - , and I see Hisao frown on my left.

I really don’t care at the moment. The maid got unlucky to receive me in this mood and combine it with my tired state I’m just about liable to bite anyone’s head off.

I know I should be nicer to the help but I’m currently not in any real frame of mind to be polite to anyone, bar my brother, Shizune and Hisao.

In response the maid gives a quick dip of the head and scuttles off into the house. I push the door to my room open.

In comparison to the rest of the house my room is almost positively Spartan. An almost bare desk, a walk-in wardrobe, a small bookcase only half full and a very large bed are the only pieces of furniture in the room.

The walls are a pine green shade, with a deep dark blue carpet. I take my slippers off and sink my toes into the fluffy carpet. It feels like heaven for my aching feet, and I hear Hisao take his shoes off as well.

He brings the luggage in, and then the door shuts behind him. “Are you sure your mother will be fine with this?” He asks nervously.

I shrug and flop back on the clean bed sheets. “If she doesn’t like it, she can come speak to us directly. As far as I’m concerned, I want you here because I trust you Hisao, and we’ve slept together plenty at school.”

“That’s at school and not with your mother in the same house,” is the dry response as he puts the bags near the wardrobe door.

There is silence as he rummages through his bag and hangs his ball stuff in the wardrobe. I simply watch him work, lounging on the bed and bless him, he even hangs my dress up for me.

“I need you here though, Hisao,” I admit. He walks to the bed, sitting on it, and it dips slightly from the added weight. “I’ll be blunt Hisao,” I say with a sigh, “this weekend is going to be tough for us. Tough for you as I’m liable to be even more of a mess than normal and tough for me because…” I trail off with a wistful sigh.

Hisao’s arms wrap around me, and he settles us down into a more comfortable position, with my head on his chest. He begins to talk his voice reverberating in his chest making an odd dissonance with his irregular heartbeat. “I’m prepared for that Ayane.” He admits. “I just don’t want to give your family any reason to dislike me. This is important to me Ayane. It’s important for you as well.”

I can feel my lips twitch into a smile, “Thank you. I’ll try my best, Hisao, but I can’t guarantee anything, I hope you know that.”

“I know that, but I also know you’ll try your best.” Hisao reassures me, one hand tangling gently in my hair.

We lie there in companionable silence for a few minutes, just unwinding from the day. “I must admit,” Hisao says, breaking the silence, “I wasn’t quite expecting the house.”

I snort. “You mean the over the top vibe of the whole thing? I find it embarrassing.”

“I know how you feel about showing money off.” Hisao states.

“It’s more about the waste,” I growl, “This house normally only has mother, Uncle Gendo and my grandparents living in it – a grand total of four people – it’s way too many rooms and just an over the top extravagance. We’d be better off in something smaller.”

I move off Hisao and roll onto my back staring at the ceiling. He shifts and turns on his side, facing towards me, one hand idly sitting on my stomach. “Sorry, complaining I guess.” Hisao gives a gentle laugh and presses a kiss to my forehead.

There is more silence for a few minutes, Hisao’s hand rubbing small circles on my stomach and calming me down. “It feels nice having you here with me Hisao,” I say in a small voice. He looks at me, and I elaborate further, “I feel braver, more able to confront the memories and fears that linger here. I’m not sure what I would’ve done if I hadn’t met you.”

“I’m not quite sure what would’ve happened had you not barged into the room that day,” Hisao says with a small laugh.

“I think you would’ve sided with Lilly and who knows? It would’ve really annoyed Shizune, and she wouldn’t have wanted you on the council.” I chuckle at the mental image in my head and mentally play out how Hisao and Lilly would interact.

“What matters is that I’m here now,” Hisao states, attempting to sound sagely, and I giggle at his tone of voice.

“Come here and kiss me,” I demand throatily, one hand curling around the back of Hisao’s neck and pulling him towards me.

His lips meet mine, and I sigh into his mouth at the sensation of the kiss. It is a sweet, gentle kiss, lips brushing past each other in small motions. I gently nudge Hisao, and he obediently rolls onto his back and I straddle his waist, looking down at him cheekily.

He has a grin on his face, and I give a small huff of laughter as I lie flat on him and kiss him again, deepening the kiss, our tongues meeting, dancing and duelling together. I feel Hisao’s hand inch under my shirt and skim up and down my spine, and I break off the kiss to shiver in delight at the sensations running up and down my spine.

“I’m not made of glass you know,” I whisper breathlessly into his ear, and I feel the hand on my back slide around to my stomach again and gently rub my belly. I huff into his ear and giggle as Hisao squirms before gently taking the top lobe of his ear in my teeth and gently nibbling.

Hisao sucks in a breath, and his hand slides up my stomach, gliding around but not quite touching my bra. I can feel his hesitation so I move my mouth to his neck and press a very light kiss to his neck.

During our explorations of each other I learned a fun fact. Hisao’s neck is extremely sensitive, and I like to tease. Anytime I place a kiss on his neck he’d squirm at the sensation and he is wriggling now as I pepper his neck with kisses.

I stop kissing his neck, move back to his ear and again whisper gently, “Hisao, help me forget, even just for a moment.” It is more a plea than seduction tactic.

Being home has stirred the hornets’ nest, and I just want to not remember for the moment.

I rear back so I’m sitting straight and Hisao looks at me intently. It appears he’s understood the undercurrent of the message and is just confirming it. Looking into his eyes, I almost fancy that I can see my distorted reflection as he analyses me intently.

A moment passes; then with a soft tone, “only if you’re sure.”

Ah Hisao, ever the gentlemen aren’t you? I lead his fingers to the bottom of my t-shirt and give him a wide grin. He lifts my shirt, and I hold my arms up, helping to free the t-shirt from my skinny frame. It gets slung to my floor, and for a moment I feel exposed as Hisao’s eyes roam over the newly aired skin.

I reach behind and with a small twist my bra opens. I shrug the straps off my shoulders to let the bra fall forward onto Hisao’s chest but cover myself with one arm. I give him a smirk at the stunned look on his face and slowly remove my arm exposing my breasts to Hisao’s almost ravenous gaze.

His eyes travel over my contours and my not so impressive curves and then move back up to my face. “You are so beautiful.” In the quiet of my room, it sounds almost like a prayer, and I can feel a blush encroach across my skin.

He doesn’t even touch me for close to a minute and simply gazes at me with what looks like near adoration, and it makes me feel – almost – uncomfortable.

Slowly his hands inch towards my skin but I stop him with a finger on his lips and say with a coy tone, “return the favour Hisao.”

He’s not sure, I can tell by the way his body tenses under mine. “Hisao,” I say softly, one finger under his chin. “I’m no stranger to scars, you know this, do you honestly think I’m going to judge you for a scar?”

Hisao shakes his head and gives me a weak, wobbly grin, “I know, sorry, not always rational when it come to…” he trails off, and I wiggle a hand under his sweater vest.

He sits up slightly and the sweater vest comes off and gets flung to my bedroom floor – earning a wince from Hisao - and I begin to undo the buttons of his shirt.

Hisao watches my delicate hands travel down his shirt buttons, as I pop each one. I don’t spread the shirt open; I keep it closed, just undoing the buttons.

When the last button is undone, I look Hisao in the eye and raise an eyebrow – asking the unasked question – and he gives a shaky nod. I slither my hands up his chest, under the shirt and then gently, spread his shirt wide, baring his chest to me.

First I take a moment to admire the view. Running with Emi is doing Hisao a world of good. He’s still rather skinny but he’s beginning to gain more definition to his body. Thank you, Emi, that hard work is much appreciated - by me.

Then I look at the scar. It’s not a particularly wide scar, but it’s still a little fresh looking, possessing a light angry red tint that denotes fresh scar tissue. It runs down the middle of his chest, I gently run a fingertip down the scar, tracing its path on Hisao’s body.

He lets out a vaguely strangled hiss at my touch, and I decide to step up the game a little. I lean forward, a shiver dancing throughout my body as our skin touches, heat being the predominant sensation. I place a gentle kiss on Hisao’s scar and he relaxes under the touch of my lips on his skin.

I pepper the scar with more kisses and then slowly kiss my way up to Hisao’s lips and kiss him firmly.

Hisao’s hands go from being idle to grasp my waist and then begin to travel up my sides as we kiss. The kiss becomes more passionate, more needy – almost animalistic – as I strive to blot out the memories rattling behind the doorway in the back of my head, simply rejoicing in the here and now.

Hisao’s hands stop on the side of my ribs and then tentatively, one hand travels round to my right breast and gently – as if he’s handling fine china – caresses me.

A gasp escapes me involuntarily, as new sensations run rampant throughout me. Then I feel Hisao’s warm mouth meet my nipple, and I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. I’m semi-aware of my mewling voice whimpering in the quiet of my room as Hisao explores new and sensitive ground with his mouth and tongue.

I never expected to be this receptive, and Hisao makes the most of it, reducing me to an incoherent mess, pretty quickly. I sink to the side of Hisao when I get too sensitive and he reluctantly lets me go.

I pant and wipe sweat from my brow, and then my hand slides down towards the waistband of his trousers. Hisao’s hand stops me, and I register that he’s sweaty as well, and a tiny bit pale. He shakes his head gently. “Heart’s not feeling up to much more I think,” he admits, “you got me rather… excited.”

I laugh gently then kiss his chest lightly. “Don’t want to leave you hanging but I understand, your health comes first.”

“Unfortunately,” Hisao says with a sigh.

I tap his scar and he turns his head to me, “maybe when you’re feeling better a bit later, I can pamper you.”

“Maybe. Don’t want to ruin the weekend with a heart flutter on top of everything else.”

Hisao is being rather serious about the whole thing, and I’m rather impressed to be honest. The gossip in the girls’ dorms was that men would do anything and risk anything for sex. It seems that Hisao has some self-restraint.

I stand from the bed, rummage through my suitcase and pull out my sleepwear. For a moment I think about changing in the bathroom.

I decide not to, and instead, very aware of Hisao watching from the bed shed my comfortable jeans and blue panties and change into my pyjamas.

I think I hear a gulp from Hisao, and I grin as I slowly dress. I turn and Hisao’s jaw is nearly on the floor.

Mission accomplished.

I saunter back to my bed and slide back under the sheets and wrap Hisao in a hug. “I’ve got to get changed as well,” he mumbles.

I release him from the hug and he clambers out of the bed. He changes into his sleepwear as well in the room in front of me but a lot quicker.

He rejoins me in the bed, and I glance at the wall clock nearby. It’s nearly half eleven at night, and we decide to settle down and sleep.

***

Sleep comes in fits and starts. Small snatches and brief glimpses of dreamland but I never quite reach there.

I lay there on my back, Hisao gently slumbering besides me. This… cage frustrates me to no end. I hate dancing to other people’s tunes.

That combined with my childhood home weigh heavily on my mind. I toss and turn in my bed when a rustle of Hisao moving attracts my attention in the dark.

“Can’t sleep?” is the muted whisper in the dark.

“Not really.” I grumble.

He turns over on the bed, and a hand grasps mine. “Tell me about him?” Hisao asks.

I pause and digest the question for a moment. “Tell you about?”

“Your Dad,” he asks, giving my fingers a small reassuring squeeze.

I exhale loudly and consider it for a moment. I wet my lips with my tongue and then, slowly and with great hesitation begin to talk.

“Dad… was fun when we were growing up. He’d always make time for us. I don’t have any clear memories of Akiho and Akihiro interacting with him but for Arashi and me, he’d always have time.”

I pause and gather my stray thoughts. “He was larger than life. He loved to sing, dance badly and feed people until they were close to bursting.”

“He wasn’t perfect.” I state a few moments later, “He had quite a temper, could have a very barbed wit, and if he was convinced he was right, then nothing on earth could convince him otherwise.”

“Sounds like he was quite the character,” Hisao states softly.

“I remember learning sign with Dad so he could understand and talk to Arashi. I can remember his eyes lighting up when Arashi signed the word ‘Dad’ for the first time.” I let out another sigh, “there are so many memories here Hisao. Even the good ones have a bittersweet taste to them.”

“Then maybe we can make some new and better ones.” Hisao nods to himself as if convincing himself of something.

I smile softly in the dark and kiss him slowly and thoroughly.

Don’t ever change Hisao.

Make some new memories…

I think that might be possible in the future.

Especially with you by my side, Hisao.

End scene 12.

[AntonSlavik020]

My favorite team lost by 18 points to a previously winless team in American football(just look at my location if you're curious as to who I'm a fan of), and this helped. Looks like the confrontation will be delayed at least another chapter. And it is interesting how if Hisao had sided with Lilly how it may have affected Arashi's relationship with Shizune. Anyways, looking forward to the next chapter!

[CloudGrain]

Oh... The potential train wreck of feels, physical conditions coming to the forefront in traumatic ways, and generally being made to loathe Ayane's assholes of a family beyond her sibling/half siblings.







This is a great lead-up, building up of that tension you're intending on cultivating for the scenes ahead. Tilling the field with tension so that when something happens... Well, I'm sure that it'll be glorious in its own way and right. There's precious little that I think I can honestly advocate for beyond sitting back, relaxing, and enjoying the story you've got to offer. Always happy to see and read an update from you, Tealeaf! Cheers mate!

[HazelKim]

Oh Tealeaf you dog As per your suggestion I made an account so I shall basically say what I have already told you.

Every chapter is a delight to read and the errors are practically non-existant now. In this chapter I liked the first image you showed us of Ayane's mother, truly impressive and intimidating. I am very excited for Akihiro's interactions with the family and his partner.

The mild NSFW part wasn't too bad, it was paced well and definitely didn't come off as smut.

The layout of the mansion could have been described a little more, it made me think there was essentially one long corridor, but that might just be me.

All in all, going par the course, still teasing and compelling.

Horses.