Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Pistol-whipped ❯ The Wind and the Rain ( Chapter 10 )

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression

Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

 

Darkness had almost settled over Agate High, and the students that attended their club activities were heading off home. The lights in the large building slowly blinked out one by one, as the seven o'clock closing time neared. The instruments in the music department stopped playing, the clacking of wood ceased to echo in the kendo club's dojo and the esteemed baseball team were coming in off the pitch.

 

The teenage girl inclined her head toward the cloudy sky as she and her friends stepped out of the school, “Hm, it looks like it's going to rain.” Yuki secured her schoolbag over her shoulder and they headed across the car park, loose gravel crunching under their shoes.

 

The senior girls approached the almost empty bike racks and found their rides. Aiko jingled her bike lock and fumbled with the keys; “Yeah, I can smell it. Damn, I didn't bring my umbrella.” She looked to her friend, Naomi, for a comment, but got none. The older girl was also looking at the sky, but for very different reasons.

 

Yuki sighed and threw her hands in the air in frustration, “I have to ride home in the rain!” She mounted her bike, adjusting her short skirt over her legs so she wouldn't be flashing people. “Well, here goes,” Yuki pedaled toward the school entrance and waved back to her friends, “Mata ashita!”

 

Aiko watched Yuki's retreating form in the distance and nibbled her bottom lip at the impending storm, “Nao-chan, are you still going to walk home?”

 

No answer.

 

She turned to face her friend, “Nao-chan?”

 

Arai Naomi seemed startled and she looked down at her friend as if she was looking at a complete stranger. A gust of cold wind howled in the trees, blew Naomi's clothes forcefully so that they clung to her figure. Her hair gushed behind her in a flurry of black and she closed her eyes, wincing at the dust that got caught in her vision.

 

Aiko's concerned features met her as her taller friend stood face to face with her, “Naomi...daijoubu?” A delicate hand cupped her shoulder comfortingly, “You've been acting strange...” Naomi's eyes met hers and the girl was stunned by the deep brown orbs.

 

“Did you have sex with Ryunosuke?”

 

Aiko's mouth hung agape at the direct question. Naomi's eyes never left hers; she was a prisoner to the piercing stare. Her hand slid slowly from Naomi's shoulder and her eyes darted from one chocolate pool to the other.

 

Her gaze flitted away and she looked at the black gravel on the ground, “W-well, I-”

 

“Just answer the question.”

 

Aiko looked down into those furious brown eyes again, and she could see the moisture building up, she could see the telltale glaze and the way the corner of Naomi's mouth twitched ever so slightly. She wanted to lie. She really wanted to. She had never wanted to hurt her friend.

 

“Yes.”

 

The tears didn't fall as she had expected, and Naomi's voice was eerily calm and calculated; “So, you knew how close we were...how close I am with Ryunosuke...” The beautiful girl hung her head and her bangs shielded her face.

 

“Listen, Nao-chan--” Aiko extended her arm to rest her hand on Naomi's shoulder again and she gasped when one of Naomi's hands shot up to clasp her wrist.

 

“...You knew how I feel about him...”

 

He doesn't love you...

 

“Please--” The grip tightened. “We were interested in each other, Nao-chan. I'm sorry. Just because you have a crush on Naga--”

 

“...I love him, Aiko.”

 

Aiko's voice failed to respond when Naomi's head rose and their eyes met again.

 

“I love him.”

 

The wrist beneath Naomi's tightening grip began to ache and Aiko felt the unpleasant prickle of tears behind her eyes. She wanted to hug her friend, expel that painful look on her face and wipe away the anguished tears that ran freely down those soft cheeks. She opened her arms to embrace her long-time friend, but Naomi tore away from her. Aiko's brows knotted together and her lip trembled in memory of what she'd done. She wanted to tell Naomi that it was a long time ago, that the rumors weren't true, but...

 

She had slept with Nagara Ryunosuke just the other day.

 

Her voice was a whisper that was almost carried away by another loud gust of wind, “I'm so sorry, Nao-chan.”

 

Naomi's usually honey-like voice was raw and bitter, “Save it,” she spun on her heels, her skirt twirling around and the gravel crunching under her feet. She wiped the tears away with the cuff of her dark school blazer.

 

Aiko lunged after her and grabbed her shoulder, “Naomi, please--!”

 

“I thought we were friends!” Naomi wrenched herself from Aiko's grasp and swung her arm around, the hard slap resounding across the car park. She stared Aiko down as the taller girl hunched over, cupping her cheek. “You knew how I felt about him and you still jumped into bed with him. H-how could you?” Naomi's voice broke and she dried the fresh tears as soon as they escaped. Her eyes were dark and she was satisfied when she saw the burning mark she had left on the girl, “You know, they're all right about you.”

 

Aiko's lip was quivering and she still held a hand to her red cheek, “What are you talking about?”

 

“I didn't care about what other people said and I didn't care that they called you a whore,” She sniffed, “Because I was your friend. We were friends, and friends stay friends no matter what anyone else thinks,” Naomi turned away and took a step, looking at her own shoes in the gravel and feeling like they weren't hers, “But they were right.” She said in a soft voice.

 

Another howling gush of wind blew and drops of moisture began to dot the concrete around the school. Small raindrops hit the two girls, adding more tears to their wet cheeks. Naomi looked over her shoulder at Aiko, her eyes not sparkling with their usual glow.

 

“You are a slut.”

 

 

***

 

 

Rain.

 

I hate rain.

 

Naomi was running, her shoes splashing in puddles and her socks absolutely drenched with cold, muddy water. She ran, wanted to get home as soon as possible, to escape the leering stares of men in the darkness who so obviously appreciated the way her wet uniform clung to her, practically transparent. People looked through the large window at the 7/11, dogs chained undercover barked at her, people walking briskly under their umbrellas paused to notice.

 

She ran.

 

Naomi rounded a corner that took her away from the people, the muttering and the stares. She slowed her pace to a jog and made it to the end of the street. She would be home soon. She stood at the end of the long alleyway that would lead her to her house and she stared down the long stretch of wet darkness, her breath coming in short puffs. She would walk down this dark path everyday after school. It was the usual, the looming walls covered in moss were usually damp, and the steep downward slope was usually bumpy. She walked down this long, empty pathway every day, and she would do so today as usual.

 

Arai Naomi was afraid.

 

She was usually with Ryunosuke.

 

The wind howled through the narrow alley, funneled between the tall walls and gushed out the end at Naomi. She felt the cooling of moisture on her cheeks but she couldn't tell if it was the rain or if she was crying.

 

He doesn't love you...

 

She was at breaking point. She didn't care if she got mugged or raped. She felt empty, so much so that she couldn't feel the pain anymore. People didn't care about her, so she suffered in silence. I've ruined everything...

 

If she could suck it up and keep her feelings inside, bury them deep down so they would never surface again...None of this would have happened. She would still be best friends with Ryunosuke, she would still be able to be close to him and share her thoughts with him, share her lunch with him, share her smiles with him. It was because of Naomi that he hated her, because she was selfish and she wanted to keep him to herself. Because she couldn't be content with being his friend, because she wanted more. Because she could no longer pretend that it didn't bother her when he was with another girl, because she was sick of waiting for a sign that might tell her he cares. Because she thought that maybe he would feel the same way.

 

She was wrong.

 

Naomi took a step forward into the dark alleyway, pushing against the forceful wind. She could barely see the other end, but it no longer bothered her. She disappeared into the darkness, sure now that the wetness on her cheeks was from the rain.

 

And the heartless wind kept blowing.

 

 

***

 

 

“You're late.”

 

The dark figure of Ben Arc loomed over him; the bright lights behind the large man making him look even more imposing.

 

Alexander Craft looked away, his eyes hurting and a dull throb making itself known near his temple, “You'll get over it.”

 

The pair of Sigma agents walked down the sterile hallway at a brisk pace. Ro's headquarters were very much the same as Sigma's in America, except for the Japanese signs and labels all over the place. Alexander looked down and noticed his reflection in the polished floor. He walked side by side with his superior, the man who had effectively raised him to be the person he was today. He took the time to inspect the older man as they hurried towards their destination.

 

Ben Arc--if that was even his real name--was a rough man. From his dark facial hair to his thick eyebrows, from his broad shoulders to the foot taller that he loomed above his apprentice. The scars on his face and arms spoke loudly of the many `missions' he had been on, the extra dimension of depth in his dark eyes told of his years of experience, and the wisps of grey in his brown hair showed wisdom rather than old age. Alexander looked up to him as a father, even though he barely knew anything about the secretive man.

 

“A picture lasts longer, runt.”

 

Alexander quickly averted his eyes and stared ahead at the door they were approaching, “Has she spoken to anyone?” His jaw tightened and he rested his hand on the cold metal of the door handle.

 

Ben scratched his chin through the patch of thick hair that grew there, “Not since she woke up,” he said, “They said she looks pretty distraught. They explained everything to her - what happened, how long she was out - but she hasn't said a word.”

 

Alexander clutched the manila folder in his hands tightly to his chest, “We'll make her talk.” Ben smirked at the young agent.

 

The heavy metal door groaned in the effort it took to open, and light spilled into the small squared room. Alexander stepped in, casting a shadow over the shaking figure at the table in the centre of the room. The light was then completely blocked out when Ben's large body stepped through the door frame. He searched the wall nearby and flicked a switch. A white light blinked on above the young woman's head, slowly illuminating the interrogation room. The two agents moved in, taking seats across from the trembling nun.

 

“Good evening,” Ben said, “I'm sure you know why we're here.”

 

Frightened eyes seized Alexander from across the table and his heartbeat sped up. The nun - the girl...her eyes...

 

Ben continued in his low voice, void of emotion, “We understand what you've been through, but we need your help if we're going to catch this guy.”

 

There was a long silence and the girl just stared at them. Her eyes darted from one male to the other, jumping at any small move. The younger one on the right, she decided, was the one she would talk to.

 

“A-alright.”

 

Alexander and Ben shared a glance at each other and the teenager leaned forward, setting his official-looking folder on the table and slowly opening it, “So, can you tell us what he looks like?”

 

The girl was trembling; her simple white gown was glowing eerily in the bright light. She held her hands clasped together in her lap, a wooden cross between them. She said nothing.

 

Alexander sighed, pushed some papers aside and took out an envelope, “I'm going to show you some photographs; I want you to tell me if anyone looks familiar. If you notice something, say it, anything at all.” Ben watched the young agent and smiled to himself, letting the teen take charge.

 

The young woman nodded, her hands shaking erratically in her lap.

 

Alexander pulled out the first photo; a small Polaroid shot of Amano Takeshi, a senior at Agate High. All of the photos were of boys at Agate High. They weren't all people on the suspect list, just boys that filled the requisites. Everyone had to be considered.

 

The nun looked at the picture, and slowly shook her head. Next.

 

Alexander's heartbeat sped as he showed her a picture of his friend, Seta, and relief washed over him when she shook her head once more. He caught the feeling though, and frowned when he realized he had become attached to his friends, most of whom were in this pile of damning photographs. He berated himself inside, knowing that if any one of his friends were the rapist, he'd have to treat them like he would any other criminal; a kick to the back of their knees and hard, metal cuffs snapped around their wrists.

 

Next.

 

He showed her three more photos of boys he didn't necessarily know, and again, she shook her head. He put in front of her more, and still, nothing. He looked down at the remaining pictures and found himself staring in the face of Sato Yuu. He slid the picture in front of her slowly, studying her features.

 

Her eye twitched.

 

She lifted a hand as if to touch the picture, but her fingers only hovered over, “H-his eyes...”

 

Ben leaned forward, “Something familiar?” She frowned.

 

“His eyes...”

 

Alexander leaned toward her as well; “Is he the one?”

 

“His eyes...”

 

Alexander frowned, getting impatient, “Is this the one who raped you?”

 

Her eyes went wide and she stared into the picture, “Black...black eyes...”

 

The boy slammed his fist on the table, aggravated, “Is he the one!?”

 

“His eyes!” She cried, suddenly, wrenching away from the picture and clutching her hands together again, whispering to the cross. Her eyes were screwed tight.

 

Alexander lost his patience; he grabbed her by the shoulders, his headache doubling its intensity, “Tell me! Is it him or not!?”

 

Ben growled and tore Alexander away from the distraught girl, “What the hell do you think you're doing!?”

 

The nun was crying now, trembling. Alexander stared at her, frowning, for a while. The silence was hurting his ears; the headache was hurting his head. He felt sick, nauseous, and all he wanted was to get the investigation over with so he could go back home and be with Jennifer.

 

He yelled; “Fuck!” His chair screeched against the floor as he knocked it back, he stood up, pausing to leer at the pathetic girl and then stormed out of the room, slamming the heavy metal door behind him.

 

Ben Arc hunched in his seat, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a thick thumb and forefinger. Teenagers... He leaned toward the frightened nun, reaching into his breast pocket for a folded piece of paper. He spared a glance toward the closed metal door.

 

He flattened out the photo and slid it towards her, “Is this the one?” There was a long pause and her mouth hung agape as the violated nun stared at the face.

 

She screamed.

 

***

 

 

“The storm is expected to last a few days-” The dressed up news lady vanished from the television screen when the picture blinked out with a thick zap.

 

Ryunosuke sat up on his couch in the darkness, “Shit.”

 

The digital clock would have read 20:46, the small fridge in the kitchen would have been humming, and the music would have been playing from the stereo in the background. But there was none of that; only silence and darkness. He circled his small house, dodging the scarce furniture to get to the power box. He flicked one or two switches, and still nothing. The power was definitely out.

 

Ryunosuke grumbled and shuffled around in the kitchen cabinets with a torch, looking for some candles. He still had paperwork to sort out, and he damn well wasn't going to do it in the dark. He held the end of the torch in his mouth as he filled his arms with candles of different shapes, scents and sizes, and trudged up the very narrow staircase to his room. Soon he had dots of yellow and orange scattered around the place and he took a step back to admire his work.

 

The candles really didn't do much to help him see.

 

He cursed the crappy lighting under his breath and fastened the rattling balcony doors, locking them to block out the powerful wind. Since when was there a storm in the middle of summer?

 

The Ro agent sighed and sat on the edge of his bed, burying his face in his hands. The rain thundered on the roof, on the sidewalk, and the wind howled in the trees, between each building outside. He liked the sounds of a storm at night; relaxing, soothing. Ryunosuke unbuttoned his crumpled school shirt and slid it off his shoulders, tossing the white cotton into a corner of the room. He lay back on his bed and folded his arms under his head, stretching out his hard torso and listening to every little detail, letting the rhythmic thrum of rain on the roof lull him to sleep.

 

Bang. Bang. Bang.

 

What the-? Ryunosuke shot up, his ears straining to pick up the sound again.

 

Bang. Bang. Bang.

 

He identified the noise in a second and practically stumbled down the steep stairs, slowing his pace when he almost tripped. He flicked the lock up on his front door and he had to hold it so the wind wouldn't burst it open. Rain practically poured in through the door and his bare chest froze. None of it really mattered though.

 

Not when Arai Naomi was at his door in a transparent shirt, trembling and soaking wet.

 

He growled, “What the hell are you doing here?” No response. He sighed and put his hand around her arm, pulling her inside. Ryunosuke locked the door again, shutting out the cold wind and rain, shivering at the sudden change in temperature.

 

Naomi stood a few steps away, silent and facing the floor. He rubbed his own chest, the skin cold and wet. He felt naked. He looked around the lounge room and the kitchen for a shirt hanging somewhere and cursed his neatness when he found none. His eyes softened when they landed on the dripping girl, “Naomi?” He took a step forward, touching the girl on the shoulder and resting his hand there. Her shirt felt thin and clung to her, and he could see the darker tone of her skin through the white uniform.

 

She turned her head, as if to look at him over her shoulder, but instead rested the side of her face against his hand, keeping her gaze low. He wanted to pull it away, rid himself of the soft, warm feeling of her cheek. He bit his lip, seriously considering the action and trying to think of an excuse when she spoke.

 

Her voice was soft and tired, “Are you busy?”

 

Are you busy?

 

There was so much she was asking with that one question. Are you working on something? Was I interrupting? Do you have a girl upstairs in your bed? Do you have time for me?

 

He replied, “No,” and decided to keep his hand on her shoulder. He could feel her eyelashes fluttering on his skin.

 

She sniffed, but he could tell from the red around her eyes and nose from his glimpse of her face earlier that she'd been crying, “I...needed someone to talk to.” The darkness didn't help.

 

He knew what she wanted to talk about the second he saw her at his doorstep, without text books and without asking for tutelage. He exhaled the breath that had built up in his lungs, “Alright. Let's talk.”

 

She turned around sharply and his breath caught in his throat. Baby blue lace peaked through her drenched school shirt and her ample bust was screaming at him for his attention. Ryunosuke swallowed hard.

 

He was hard-pressed to ignore it.

 

He cursed the darkness and the sliver of moonlight that skimmed over her glistening form, and took his eyes off her with reluctance to acknowledge the soft light coming from his room upstairs. He pointed at it with his chin and Naomi understood, slowly making her way to the narrow flight of steps and to Nagara Ryunosuke's bedroom.

 

The soft glow of candlelight was worse. It made her tussled hair shine, it made her lips look puffy and wet, it made her skin look warm and moist. He wanted to touch her.

 

Ryunosuke couldn't read the emotion that was playing in her deep eyes. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, so when she sat at the edge of his bed, her skirt riding up and revealing even more delicious thigh, his hands began to tremble. His heart started beating faster. He didn't know why.

 

He heard her sigh and she shuffled backwards on his bed, lying down against the pillows and sinking into the centre of the well-used mattress. He didn't care that she was getting his sheets wet, he only cared that Arai Naomi, the object of many, many fantasies was lying in his bed, very wet and very see-through. She stretched her arms up above her head and he held back a whimper. His head was foggy and the candlelight was playing tricks on him. Were her legs inching apart?

 

It was only the dark bags under her eyes and the slight redness of her nose that cleared the cloudiness.

 

“Naomi,” he said in a stern voice, “What are you doing?”

 

He took his eyes off her for a moment to keep him from staring, but his friend's odd behavior was making him concerned. Naomi's reply came quiet, she sounded defeated, broken.

 

“Isn't this what you want?”

 

His brows furrowed together.

 

“No, Naomi, this isn't what I want,” He looked her in the eyes, “Not from you.”

 

She looked like she was about to cry again and she sat up to leave. Ryunosuke quickly stepped forward, holding a hand out.

 

“Please don't go,” he said softly.

 

Naomi warred with her emotions, tearing her eyes off his handsome dark features and his tanned chest, “I should go. I'm sorry I bothered you.” She swung her legs over the edge of the bed, looking down at her shirt and feeling suddenly exposed.

 

“No,” the agent moved around the bed and in front of her to cut her off, “Stay. We need to talk.” He felt like he wasn't himself, hearing the words but not feeling like they came from him. Naomi's eyes were in her lap and Ryunosuke's breathing slowed down the moment he realized it had sped.

 

Her hands moved slowly to the collar of her shirt, and before he could tell what she was doing, Naomi ripped her wet top open. The buttons flew in different directions, ticking against the floor in the silence. Ryunosuke's eyes went wide and his mouth opened slightly, and all he could do was stare. His brain was well and truly dead, blank, out of order, and he offered her no reaction when she pulled at his belt buckle, yanking his hips towards her and knocking him off balance.

 

She opened her legs when he fell on her, providing a very, very soft and comfortable place to fall. Ryunosuke's brain remained unresponsive; all he could do was feel. He felt those incredible breasts pressed up against his chest, the scratchy lace contrasting with the plush globes of softness. He felt those amazing thighs wrapping around his hips, holding him in place and pressing him against her. It took a while, but her words registered nonetheless.

 

“Fuck me, Ryunosuke.”

 

 

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To be continued...

 

 

A/N: I hope I made things interesting ^.~ Sorry for the wait.

Lyrics are from `Mad World' by Gary Jules.

`Mata ashita' means `until tomorrow' (I've covered that one already, haven't I?)

`Daijoubu?' is `are you ok?'

 

R&R!