Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ The Disaffected Life ❯ Chapter Three ( Chapter 3 )
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
Author's Notes: Eh, I'm not too sure about this chapter. I wanted this series
to be an onslaught of angst, as it should be, considering the subject matter.
However, this particular chapter seems to take a break in that angst and misery.
Meet Yuki (again) the feisty and cute object of Haruka's young affections. Don't
worry, though... angst and misery will come soon. I promise. :D
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
The Disaffected Life
(Chapter Three)
"I am an expensive obligation." Haruka spoke to no one. Alone in her
apartment, she briefly scanned numerous documents. There were easily hundreds in
the stack. Either her parents cared not the significance of her future, or they
had complete faith in her intelligence. She suspected the former, rather than
the latter.
Her apartment was a maze of boxes, the movers had arrived early that
morning with her possessions packed tightly, waiting to be reunited with their
owner. The scene before her best reflected her life in the moment, which better
reflected her internal turmoil; all was well ordered chaos. All was tightly
packaged, labeled, prepared for the unknown, forced out of stability; security.
Haruka had been formally thrown away, the papers and movers were an epitaph
to the ties of her previous life. She knew not which direction to take her new
self. Neither could she fathom how many deaths and rebirths she would experience
in the future. "How many times can a child die?" she whispered.
The young girl sighed as she stared at the clock across the room. School
began in an hour. Never had she felt up to her studies, though always she had
gone and done well. She had been raised in a very traditional atmosphere. Her
mother and father, stoic pillars of success, expected nothing less from their
children. They expected pure obedience. They had expected a child that would
carry the family name upon their shoulders proudly into the future. Haruka,
their only child, was a girl, thus, an inherent disappointment to her parents.
Haruka's head pound. The poison from her night prior trembled the
foundation of her weary mind, splitting a gaping ravine straight through her.
She held her head, and flung the papers across the room; trust funds, spending
accounts. She had been disowned, but found herself purchased and paid for. She
was indebted to her demons; a concubine, shackled to the disgust and guilt of
her parents.
Standing up, she straightened the tie of her school uniform. Always a boy's
uniform, she had always worn, and felt most comfortable, in a masculine
identity. She had never given it any thought. There were no reasons, there was
no method for her, it simply felt most natural. Why or how could it be any other
way?
When Yuki had kissed her, it felt as natural to Haruka as smoothing the
lapels of her coat. It took the intrusion of disdain to shock Haruka into a
larger spectrum, a wider realm; reality.
ooooooooooooooo
"Ha-chan?" the young girl stared up at Haruka, her arm tightened around
Haruka's in anticipation.
Haruka, barely acknowledging the girl clinging to her, grunted in
response, "Mmmm?"
"Why don't we go to your house?" Yuki asked timidly, Haruka always seemed
so hard to read to the young girl. She was an enigma to most everyone, Yuki
supposed.
"Why don't I just walk you home." Haruka spoke, it was a firm statement,
not a question.
"You always walk me home, maybe I want to walk you home." Yuki, getting
back some of her confidence, fired right back at the tall blonde. Yuki stilled
her pace, stopping Haruka along with her. Haruka stared at the girl, there was a
fierceness in her. Haruka realised Yuki would not back down, and something about
the girl's determination set Yuki aglow.
Haruka turned in the opposite direction and began walking at a casual pace.
Her long legs made a casual pace to Haruka a power walk to others. Yuki, being
much shorter, ran to catch up with the lanky girl. "Where are you going,
Haruka?" Yuki asked heavy breathed.
"Home." Haruka replied simply.
Yuki's eyes glimmered with delight, as she attempted to conceal her smile.
Haruka would concede to no one, but she found, on occasion, that Haruka would
give in to her. Haruka would gracefully, quietly, though sometimes reluctantly,
acquiesce into acceptance of Yuki.
"Ha-chan, how far do you live?" Yuki inquired, her legs beginning to become
sore keeping up with Haruka's pace. They had been walking for a good half hour,
and it seemed as though it would never end.
"About ten or fifteen minutes more." Haruka was terse.
"You live in the completely opposite direction as me. You walk all the way
home from my house every day?" Every day, Yuki thought. Every day over the past
couple of months, since she and Haruka had met, Haruka had walked her home.
Beneath her aloof exterior, Haruka had always been, to Yuki, the perfect
gentleman.
Haruka looked at Yuki from the corner of her eyes, her expression was as
cool and unreadable as ever, "I'm a sprinter, this walk isn't such a trial for
me. YOU, however, are very lazy. I can't imagine you'd walk a block out of your
way for anyone."
"I'm walking at least a few miles for you," Yuki was always fast with a
retort for Haruka, it was something that sometimes stumbled and intrigued her.
"For your curiosity," Haruka was quick to divert the mood from Yuki's
innuendo, but it was not lost on her.
"That, too," Yuki flashed a full, devilish smile. Strands of her long,
raven hair fell into her sight; a torn cloak shading her eyes. Haruka found
herself rather smitten with Yuki in that moment.
Yuki took a moment to survey her surroundings, the neighborhood she and
Haruka were trotting through was very bourgeois, far out of her league, Yuki
thought. Haruka's pace began to slow as they reached a long stretch of road.
These homes, in the suburb of Tokyo, took up at least two city blocks with
gigantic walls, shielding them from prying eyes. Grand mansions for the
conservative rulers of the business world, the haves in a world of have nots.
Haruka was a princess of modern society. And this... Yuki stared up as they
approached immense gates blocking intruders paths to Haruka's home... was her
castle.
"Haruka, maybe..." Yuki hesitated as she became more self-conscious, "maybe
this isn't such a good idea."
"Too late." Haruka grabbed Yuki's hand as she punched a code, opening a
door within the large iron gates, and walked the two through.
The sight before Yuki left her breathless. Haruka's home had been modeled
after traditional Chinese castles. It was truly a fortress. The mansion, built
around a courtyard, was adorned with meticulously crafted gates locking the
courtyard into the mansion itself. The gates to the court yard, made of rot
iron, were emblazoned with an insignia of some sort, Yuki thought they must be a
family coat of arms, "Something magnificent like that," Yuki mumbled to herself.
Upon further inspection, Yuki realised the insignia on the gates were inlayed
with jade. "Oh wow," she spoke in awe.
As Haruka opened the heavy gates, Yuki took in the sights and sounds of the
tremendous courtyard. The entire yard was paved with stones, each stone an
individual unto itself, carrying its own beauty. Vines hung from large statues
at the four corners of the yard. They were elemental dragons, carved from slabs
of uncut marble, each having eyes of semi-precious stones in the shade of their
attributes; sapphire for water, jade for earth, ruby for fire, so and so forth.
At the center of the yard laid an expansive koi pond. It looked as if each
stone of the enormous pond had been hand selected and hand-placed. Yuki imagined
that they, indeed, had been. In the center of the large pond, stood a three foot
tall statue of a sitting buddha made entirely of jade, smiling joyfully upon
those who entered.
Three, seven foot tall banzai trees stood in a triangle within the
courtyard, one at the center, one on the right, and one on the left. The
perfectly kept banzai were planted in stunningly carved stone pots. The scenes
carved on the pots appeared to be from buddhist creation myths. These myths Yuki
was only vaguely familiar with.
Haruka walked further into the courtyard, once again taking possession of
Yuki's hand and dragged her along. Haruka feared, if she did not take the
initiative, Yuki might run away. Haruka had never brought anyone home before.
Her family had always been the wealthiest among the wealthy, yet Haruka rejected
all that wealth had to offer; she opted to go to schools for the gifted, where
only the hyper intelligent tested in, as opposed to going to a stepping ladder
school, where an influential family was all that was needed to attend. She
avoided galas at all costs. Though she allowed herself to be instructed in
proper etiquette, finding the knowledge would possibly be useful in her future.
Haruka had always feared where she came from would be too overwhelming for her
peers to deal with. She had hoped these fears would not manifest themselves into
truth there with Yuki.
Crossing the courtyard, Haruka and Yuki made their way to the front doors
of the Tenoh household. Double doors stood twelve feet high, both made entirely
of thick mahogany, were hand carved; the left door with the charm for good
health, and the right door with the charm banishing ill intending spirits. As
Haruka unlocked the large, burdensome doors, Yuki spoke, "Your parents seem
traditional, and, uhm, kind of superstitious."
"They are extremely traditional, and, hmmmm," Haruka paused as she thought
of words to best describe her parents, "They take buddhism very seriously, very
literally. I guess they are a bit superstitious. My father is, anyway."
"Does he light incense and pray for good health and all that?" Yuki
inquired as Haruka opened the front doors to her home.
"Yes, he does, every night." Haruka stepped through the door way and into
the foyer of her home, Yuki followed suit, and humbled herself in the presence
of what she felt must be greatness. The interior of Haruka's home made all that
Yuki had seen of Haruka's estate up until that point seem cheap and simple.
Everywhere Yuki turned, she saw history; funiture that must have been over a
thousand years old, created in Shanghai at the height of China's era of craft,
vases as old as Christ, katanas from the feudal era, she could not step without
crossing the path of pricelessness. Fearing marring their worth with merely her
gaze, she averted her eyes to the ground. Yuki took off her shoes and put on the
house slippers for guests into the Tenoh home. They were made of fine Chinese
silk.
"You look uncomfortable," Haruka spoke without inflection.
Yuki looked up at Haruka, she felt frantic to deny Haruka's accusation,
"No, Ha-chan, not at all!" Yuki smiled beatifically at the taller girl.
Staring into the distance, Haruka spoke once more, her voice total
monotone, "I live a gifted life."
Concern shaded Yuki's features as she felt the significance of Haruka's
distance overcome her. Yuki took Haruka's hand into her own, and stared deeply
into Haruka's eyes as the mildly surprised girl looked down at her, "Your home
is beautiful, Haruka." Yuki smiled warmly at Haruka, she wasn't sure why Haruka
seemed so pained, but Yuki was determined not to be the source. "I want to see
your bedroom!" the petite girl exclaimed, hopping to further impress her
excitement upon her friend. Yuki tightened her grip on Haruka's hand, "Which
direction is it? Lead me!"
For reasons inexplicable to Haruka, she found herself feeling slightly
embarrassed. She restrained a blush as she responded to Yuki, "My room is
boring."
"Impossible! Anyplace you spend every night must be interesting!" Yuki
contested, punctuating her sentence with a wink. Haruka once again felt that
shimmer of embarrassment flush her face.
Haruka stepped to the right, leading Yuki towards a flight of stairs, as
they approached, something dawned on Yuki, "Where are your parents? You didn't
call to them when we got here."
"Yelling is rude. Ordinarily, there is someone here to greet me when I
arrive home, my mother or a servant, but my father is at work, and my mother is
out shopping. The servants leave me alone, at my request."
Servants, traditional greetings, Haruka thought surely Yuki must have felt
out of place. Yet here she was, persevering, desiring to know more of Haruka's
life. Was it curiosity for the unknown? To know the lives of the rich? Was she
entertained by her father's nearly pathological religiousness, or the fact that
her mother was a wife practically designed by the feudal era; seen but not
heard, alive but not living? Perhaps Yuki really, truly yearned only to know the
intricacies of Haruka's life, to know Haruka. The thought seemed so foreign to
the girl. Those who had longed to know Haruka in the past, did so only out of
their selfish desires, not to truly understand Haruka, but to attain her, to
grab her attention, to acquire her and behold her as an idea, as something of a
trophy, never as a person. Haruka was intelligent, attractive, she was gifted,
and androgynous, which made her feared by some, and a novelty to others. Haruka
was different; unique. Unbeknownst to her, Yuki found it not to be a novelty
or fearsome, but quite spectacular.
Haruka walked a long corridor with Yuki in tow. Everything appeared
reflective to Yuki, from the waxed wood floors to the frames of the paintings
hanging along the walls. Yuki could not place the atmosphere these reflections
lent, but something about it felt unsettling to the girl. Everywhere she
turned, she saw herself.
Haruka stopped, finally, opening a heavy, western style wooden door. Haruka
ushered Yuki in, both girls suddenly felt diffident and anxious. "This is it,"
Haruka spoke softly.
Yuki took in Haruka's room; it smelled of her. Haruka's bedroom was
entirely without adornment, no paintings, no posters, no knick-knacks, vases,
sculptures, no pricelessness, no history, no art. It betrayed nothing of
Haruka's interests, of her cares, it was a blank slate. In the center was a
large bed with a plain wooden frame. To the right was a free standing, body
length sized mirror, to the left a desk with a personal computer, and across
from the bed stood a television, which had been wholly covered in dust. Yuki
thought it must not have been touched in months.
"It's..." Yuki paused, she knew her voice easily expressed her
disappointment.
"Plain." Haruka supplied for the girl.
"Oh, no!" Yuki attempted in vain to dissuade Haruka of the notion, but
promptly conceded, "Well, yeah."
Yuki walked to the far side of Haruka's bed and sat down, she turned to
look at Haruka. Haruka stood, resting against her computer desk, facing Yuki.
"My mother had tried for so long to get me to decorate it, but I've never
felt the inclination to do so. I'm not sure why, but posters, paintings, none of
it struck my fancy. It's a place to sleep in." Haruka shrugged further revealing
her indifference.
"I guess it could be, I kinda see my bedroom as, well, mine. So I want to
express myself. In my own space, you know?" Yuki paused, and turned to
gaze out Haruka's window, her back then faced the much taller girl, the plummet
of Yuki's self-esteem made it difficult for her to look at her companion, "I
guess I'm just a typical teenager. You must look at my bedroom and all of those
posters of pop idols and think I'm ridiculous."
Haruka stepped towards the bed and sat down with her side flush to Yuki,
she stared idly at her dust covered television. "I think," Haruka spoke on
shyly, "the way you express yourself, your enthusiasm, it is... fearless in a
way. It's also," Haruka wavered as she spoke on, her nerves surged with
electricity as her stomach fluttered wildly as a moth frenetic in attaining the
flickering illusion of a lightbulb's flame, "um, quite adorable."
Yuki stared at Haruka's reflection in the pane of her bedroom window,
something about Haruka's small confession shocked her dulled senses. Everywhere
she had looked in this stifling house, Yuki had seen herself as small and wildly
out of her element, but sitting on Haruka's bed, watching her this way, all that
she saw, was Haruka. She realised in that brief moment, that Haruka was all she
had ever longed to see since the day they had met.
Yuki's heart broke suddenly as shattered glass, tears began to stream
torrentially from her eyes. Yuki's abrupt change of mood left Haruka feeling
confused and rather hopeless, had she said the wrong thing? Had she over
stepped her boundaries? For the first time in her life, Haruka fretted
nervously. "Are... are you okay, Yuki?" Haruka asked, as she fiddled with her
fingers and stared at the pattern on her bedspread. She hoped the earth would
open wide and consume her.
"I can't be here," Yuki spoke brokenly through her tears.
"Oh," Haruka felt her heart slowly crack and fragment at Yuki's words, like
stressed bones. "I... I can walk you home, if you like."
Yuki's cries deepened with Haruka's words, with her sweet sentiments. The
longer she stayed in Haruka's presence, the further she risked falling deeper
into the predicament she finally realised she had been in all along.
Haruka edged closer to Yuki as she spoke, her voice conveyed the concern
she felt consume her being, in a way the merciless earth would never bestow,
"Please don't cry, Yuki. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" she begged desperately, for
what, she did not know.
Yuki turned where she sat to face Haruka, Haruka sat inches away from the
tiny beauty, her hands balled into fists her in lap. Haruka's eyes closed so
tightly, they could have been sewn shut. Something about Haruka's faced appeared
torn to Yuki, the gorgeous tapestry of her face, Yuki had shredded it in a
moment. Yuki's hands cupped Haruka's face, and lifted it to look at the small
girl. As she stared into Haruka's eyes, her defenses, her fears eroded. She
leaned into Haruka, and kissed her with all of the passion, with the
restlessness of her heart.
oooooooooooo
Haruka could taste salty tears on Yuki's soft, delicate lips. She
opened her eyes to once again gaze upon the clock. Haruka found her tongue had
been tasting her own tears, as she unexpectedly found herself crying.
Yuki had changed Haruka's entire existence with a single action, a solitary
emotion had destroyed all that Haruka had come to know and rely on in her short
life. Haruka had difficulty deciphering the code of her emotions, was she
grateful? Resentful? Mournful? Did she miss her one time companion? Did she love
her still? Had she ever loved her at all?
Haruka had ten minutes to get to her new school, which happened to be
twenty minutes away. These questions would have to find their answers at another
time, though she knew they would never relent.
She sighed as she dried her eyes, "Better late then never."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
to be an onslaught of angst, as it should be, considering the subject matter.
However, this particular chapter seems to take a break in that angst and misery.
Meet Yuki (again) the feisty and cute object of Haruka's young affections. Don't
worry, though... angst and misery will come soon. I promise. :D
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
The Disaffected Life
(Chapter Three)
"I am an expensive obligation." Haruka spoke to no one. Alone in her
apartment, she briefly scanned numerous documents. There were easily hundreds in
the stack. Either her parents cared not the significance of her future, or they
had complete faith in her intelligence. She suspected the former, rather than
the latter.
Her apartment was a maze of boxes, the movers had arrived early that
morning with her possessions packed tightly, waiting to be reunited with their
owner. The scene before her best reflected her life in the moment, which better
reflected her internal turmoil; all was well ordered chaos. All was tightly
packaged, labeled, prepared for the unknown, forced out of stability; security.
Haruka had been formally thrown away, the papers and movers were an epitaph
to the ties of her previous life. She knew not which direction to take her new
self. Neither could she fathom how many deaths and rebirths she would experience
in the future. "How many times can a child die?" she whispered.
The young girl sighed as she stared at the clock across the room. School
began in an hour. Never had she felt up to her studies, though always she had
gone and done well. She had been raised in a very traditional atmosphere. Her
mother and father, stoic pillars of success, expected nothing less from their
children. They expected pure obedience. They had expected a child that would
carry the family name upon their shoulders proudly into the future. Haruka,
their only child, was a girl, thus, an inherent disappointment to her parents.
Haruka's head pound. The poison from her night prior trembled the
foundation of her weary mind, splitting a gaping ravine straight through her.
She held her head, and flung the papers across the room; trust funds, spending
accounts. She had been disowned, but found herself purchased and paid for. She
was indebted to her demons; a concubine, shackled to the disgust and guilt of
her parents.
Standing up, she straightened the tie of her school uniform. Always a boy's
uniform, she had always worn, and felt most comfortable, in a masculine
identity. She had never given it any thought. There were no reasons, there was
no method for her, it simply felt most natural. Why or how could it be any other
way?
When Yuki had kissed her, it felt as natural to Haruka as smoothing the
lapels of her coat. It took the intrusion of disdain to shock Haruka into a
larger spectrum, a wider realm; reality.
ooooooooooooooo
"Ha-chan?" the young girl stared up at Haruka, her arm tightened around
Haruka's in anticipation.
Haruka, barely acknowledging the girl clinging to her, grunted in
response, "Mmmm?"
"Why don't we go to your house?" Yuki asked timidly, Haruka always seemed
so hard to read to the young girl. She was an enigma to most everyone, Yuki
supposed.
"Why don't I just walk you home." Haruka spoke, it was a firm statement,
not a question.
"You always walk me home, maybe I want to walk you home." Yuki, getting
back some of her confidence, fired right back at the tall blonde. Yuki stilled
her pace, stopping Haruka along with her. Haruka stared at the girl, there was a
fierceness in her. Haruka realised Yuki would not back down, and something about
the girl's determination set Yuki aglow.
Haruka turned in the opposite direction and began walking at a casual pace.
Her long legs made a casual pace to Haruka a power walk to others. Yuki, being
much shorter, ran to catch up with the lanky girl. "Where are you going,
Haruka?" Yuki asked heavy breathed.
"Home." Haruka replied simply.
Yuki's eyes glimmered with delight, as she attempted to conceal her smile.
Haruka would concede to no one, but she found, on occasion, that Haruka would
give in to her. Haruka would gracefully, quietly, though sometimes reluctantly,
acquiesce into acceptance of Yuki.
"Ha-chan, how far do you live?" Yuki inquired, her legs beginning to become
sore keeping up with Haruka's pace. They had been walking for a good half hour,
and it seemed as though it would never end.
"About ten or fifteen minutes more." Haruka was terse.
"You live in the completely opposite direction as me. You walk all the way
home from my house every day?" Every day, Yuki thought. Every day over the past
couple of months, since she and Haruka had met, Haruka had walked her home.
Beneath her aloof exterior, Haruka had always been, to Yuki, the perfect
gentleman.
Haruka looked at Yuki from the corner of her eyes, her expression was as
cool and unreadable as ever, "I'm a sprinter, this walk isn't such a trial for
me. YOU, however, are very lazy. I can't imagine you'd walk a block out of your
way for anyone."
"I'm walking at least a few miles for you," Yuki was always fast with a
retort for Haruka, it was something that sometimes stumbled and intrigued her.
"For your curiosity," Haruka was quick to divert the mood from Yuki's
innuendo, but it was not lost on her.
"That, too," Yuki flashed a full, devilish smile. Strands of her long,
raven hair fell into her sight; a torn cloak shading her eyes. Haruka found
herself rather smitten with Yuki in that moment.
Yuki took a moment to survey her surroundings, the neighborhood she and
Haruka were trotting through was very bourgeois, far out of her league, Yuki
thought. Haruka's pace began to slow as they reached a long stretch of road.
These homes, in the suburb of Tokyo, took up at least two city blocks with
gigantic walls, shielding them from prying eyes. Grand mansions for the
conservative rulers of the business world, the haves in a world of have nots.
Haruka was a princess of modern society. And this... Yuki stared up as they
approached immense gates blocking intruders paths to Haruka's home... was her
castle.
"Haruka, maybe..." Yuki hesitated as she became more self-conscious, "maybe
this isn't such a good idea."
"Too late." Haruka grabbed Yuki's hand as she punched a code, opening a
door within the large iron gates, and walked the two through.
The sight before Yuki left her breathless. Haruka's home had been modeled
after traditional Chinese castles. It was truly a fortress. The mansion, built
around a courtyard, was adorned with meticulously crafted gates locking the
courtyard into the mansion itself. The gates to the court yard, made of rot
iron, were emblazoned with an insignia of some sort, Yuki thought they must be a
family coat of arms, "Something magnificent like that," Yuki mumbled to herself.
Upon further inspection, Yuki realised the insignia on the gates were inlayed
with jade. "Oh wow," she spoke in awe.
As Haruka opened the heavy gates, Yuki took in the sights and sounds of the
tremendous courtyard. The entire yard was paved with stones, each stone an
individual unto itself, carrying its own beauty. Vines hung from large statues
at the four corners of the yard. They were elemental dragons, carved from slabs
of uncut marble, each having eyes of semi-precious stones in the shade of their
attributes; sapphire for water, jade for earth, ruby for fire, so and so forth.
At the center of the yard laid an expansive koi pond. It looked as if each
stone of the enormous pond had been hand selected and hand-placed. Yuki imagined
that they, indeed, had been. In the center of the large pond, stood a three foot
tall statue of a sitting buddha made entirely of jade, smiling joyfully upon
those who entered.
Three, seven foot tall banzai trees stood in a triangle within the
courtyard, one at the center, one on the right, and one on the left. The
perfectly kept banzai were planted in stunningly carved stone pots. The scenes
carved on the pots appeared to be from buddhist creation myths. These myths Yuki
was only vaguely familiar with.
Haruka walked further into the courtyard, once again taking possession of
Yuki's hand and dragged her along. Haruka feared, if she did not take the
initiative, Yuki might run away. Haruka had never brought anyone home before.
Her family had always been the wealthiest among the wealthy, yet Haruka rejected
all that wealth had to offer; she opted to go to schools for the gifted, where
only the hyper intelligent tested in, as opposed to going to a stepping ladder
school, where an influential family was all that was needed to attend. She
avoided galas at all costs. Though she allowed herself to be instructed in
proper etiquette, finding the knowledge would possibly be useful in her future.
Haruka had always feared where she came from would be too overwhelming for her
peers to deal with. She had hoped these fears would not manifest themselves into
truth there with Yuki.
Crossing the courtyard, Haruka and Yuki made their way to the front doors
of the Tenoh household. Double doors stood twelve feet high, both made entirely
of thick mahogany, were hand carved; the left door with the charm for good
health, and the right door with the charm banishing ill intending spirits. As
Haruka unlocked the large, burdensome doors, Yuki spoke, "Your parents seem
traditional, and, uhm, kind of superstitious."
"They are extremely traditional, and, hmmmm," Haruka paused as she thought
of words to best describe her parents, "They take buddhism very seriously, very
literally. I guess they are a bit superstitious. My father is, anyway."
"Does he light incense and pray for good health and all that?" Yuki
inquired as Haruka opened the front doors to her home.
"Yes, he does, every night." Haruka stepped through the door way and into
the foyer of her home, Yuki followed suit, and humbled herself in the presence
of what she felt must be greatness. The interior of Haruka's home made all that
Yuki had seen of Haruka's estate up until that point seem cheap and simple.
Everywhere Yuki turned, she saw history; funiture that must have been over a
thousand years old, created in Shanghai at the height of China's era of craft,
vases as old as Christ, katanas from the feudal era, she could not step without
crossing the path of pricelessness. Fearing marring their worth with merely her
gaze, she averted her eyes to the ground. Yuki took off her shoes and put on the
house slippers for guests into the Tenoh home. They were made of fine Chinese
silk.
"You look uncomfortable," Haruka spoke without inflection.
Yuki looked up at Haruka, she felt frantic to deny Haruka's accusation,
"No, Ha-chan, not at all!" Yuki smiled beatifically at the taller girl.
Staring into the distance, Haruka spoke once more, her voice total
monotone, "I live a gifted life."
Concern shaded Yuki's features as she felt the significance of Haruka's
distance overcome her. Yuki took Haruka's hand into her own, and stared deeply
into Haruka's eyes as the mildly surprised girl looked down at her, "Your home
is beautiful, Haruka." Yuki smiled warmly at Haruka, she wasn't sure why Haruka
seemed so pained, but Yuki was determined not to be the source. "I want to see
your bedroom!" the petite girl exclaimed, hopping to further impress her
excitement upon her friend. Yuki tightened her grip on Haruka's hand, "Which
direction is it? Lead me!"
For reasons inexplicable to Haruka, she found herself feeling slightly
embarrassed. She restrained a blush as she responded to Yuki, "My room is
boring."
"Impossible! Anyplace you spend every night must be interesting!" Yuki
contested, punctuating her sentence with a wink. Haruka once again felt that
shimmer of embarrassment flush her face.
Haruka stepped to the right, leading Yuki towards a flight of stairs, as
they approached, something dawned on Yuki, "Where are your parents? You didn't
call to them when we got here."
"Yelling is rude. Ordinarily, there is someone here to greet me when I
arrive home, my mother or a servant, but my father is at work, and my mother is
out shopping. The servants leave me alone, at my request."
Servants, traditional greetings, Haruka thought surely Yuki must have felt
out of place. Yet here she was, persevering, desiring to know more of Haruka's
life. Was it curiosity for the unknown? To know the lives of the rich? Was she
entertained by her father's nearly pathological religiousness, or the fact that
her mother was a wife practically designed by the feudal era; seen but not
heard, alive but not living? Perhaps Yuki really, truly yearned only to know the
intricacies of Haruka's life, to know Haruka. The thought seemed so foreign to
the girl. Those who had longed to know Haruka in the past, did so only out of
their selfish desires, not to truly understand Haruka, but to attain her, to
grab her attention, to acquire her and behold her as an idea, as something of a
trophy, never as a person. Haruka was intelligent, attractive, she was gifted,
and androgynous, which made her feared by some, and a novelty to others. Haruka
was different; unique. Unbeknownst to her, Yuki found it not to be a novelty
or fearsome, but quite spectacular.
Haruka walked a long corridor with Yuki in tow. Everything appeared
reflective to Yuki, from the waxed wood floors to the frames of the paintings
hanging along the walls. Yuki could not place the atmosphere these reflections
lent, but something about it felt unsettling to the girl. Everywhere she
turned, she saw herself.
Haruka stopped, finally, opening a heavy, western style wooden door. Haruka
ushered Yuki in, both girls suddenly felt diffident and anxious. "This is it,"
Haruka spoke softly.
Yuki took in Haruka's room; it smelled of her. Haruka's bedroom was
entirely without adornment, no paintings, no posters, no knick-knacks, vases,
sculptures, no pricelessness, no history, no art. It betrayed nothing of
Haruka's interests, of her cares, it was a blank slate. In the center was a
large bed with a plain wooden frame. To the right was a free standing, body
length sized mirror, to the left a desk with a personal computer, and across
from the bed stood a television, which had been wholly covered in dust. Yuki
thought it must not have been touched in months.
"It's..." Yuki paused, she knew her voice easily expressed her
disappointment.
"Plain." Haruka supplied for the girl.
"Oh, no!" Yuki attempted in vain to dissuade Haruka of the notion, but
promptly conceded, "Well, yeah."
Yuki walked to the far side of Haruka's bed and sat down, she turned to
look at Haruka. Haruka stood, resting against her computer desk, facing Yuki.
"My mother had tried for so long to get me to decorate it, but I've never
felt the inclination to do so. I'm not sure why, but posters, paintings, none of
it struck my fancy. It's a place to sleep in." Haruka shrugged further revealing
her indifference.
"I guess it could be, I kinda see my bedroom as, well, mine. So I want to
express myself. In my own space, you know?" Yuki paused, and turned to
gaze out Haruka's window, her back then faced the much taller girl, the plummet
of Yuki's self-esteem made it difficult for her to look at her companion, "I
guess I'm just a typical teenager. You must look at my bedroom and all of those
posters of pop idols and think I'm ridiculous."
Haruka stepped towards the bed and sat down with her side flush to Yuki,
she stared idly at her dust covered television. "I think," Haruka spoke on
shyly, "the way you express yourself, your enthusiasm, it is... fearless in a
way. It's also," Haruka wavered as she spoke on, her nerves surged with
electricity as her stomach fluttered wildly as a moth frenetic in attaining the
flickering illusion of a lightbulb's flame, "um, quite adorable."
Yuki stared at Haruka's reflection in the pane of her bedroom window,
something about Haruka's small confession shocked her dulled senses. Everywhere
she had looked in this stifling house, Yuki had seen herself as small and wildly
out of her element, but sitting on Haruka's bed, watching her this way, all that
she saw, was Haruka. She realised in that brief moment, that Haruka was all she
had ever longed to see since the day they had met.
Yuki's heart broke suddenly as shattered glass, tears began to stream
torrentially from her eyes. Yuki's abrupt change of mood left Haruka feeling
confused and rather hopeless, had she said the wrong thing? Had she over
stepped her boundaries? For the first time in her life, Haruka fretted
nervously. "Are... are you okay, Yuki?" Haruka asked, as she fiddled with her
fingers and stared at the pattern on her bedspread. She hoped the earth would
open wide and consume her.
"I can't be here," Yuki spoke brokenly through her tears.
"Oh," Haruka felt her heart slowly crack and fragment at Yuki's words, like
stressed bones. "I... I can walk you home, if you like."
Yuki's cries deepened with Haruka's words, with her sweet sentiments. The
longer she stayed in Haruka's presence, the further she risked falling deeper
into the predicament she finally realised she had been in all along.
Haruka edged closer to Yuki as she spoke, her voice conveyed the concern
she felt consume her being, in a way the merciless earth would never bestow,
"Please don't cry, Yuki. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" she begged desperately, for
what, she did not know.
Yuki turned where she sat to face Haruka, Haruka sat inches away from the
tiny beauty, her hands balled into fists her in lap. Haruka's eyes closed so
tightly, they could have been sewn shut. Something about Haruka's faced appeared
torn to Yuki, the gorgeous tapestry of her face, Yuki had shredded it in a
moment. Yuki's hands cupped Haruka's face, and lifted it to look at the small
girl. As she stared into Haruka's eyes, her defenses, her fears eroded. She
leaned into Haruka, and kissed her with all of the passion, with the
restlessness of her heart.
oooooooooooo
Haruka could taste salty tears on Yuki's soft, delicate lips. She
opened her eyes to once again gaze upon the clock. Haruka found her tongue had
been tasting her own tears, as she unexpectedly found herself crying.
Yuki had changed Haruka's entire existence with a single action, a solitary
emotion had destroyed all that Haruka had come to know and rely on in her short
life. Haruka had difficulty deciphering the code of her emotions, was she
grateful? Resentful? Mournful? Did she miss her one time companion? Did she love
her still? Had she ever loved her at all?
Haruka had ten minutes to get to her new school, which happened to be
twenty minutes away. These questions would have to find their answers at another
time, though she knew they would never relent.
She sighed as she dried her eyes, "Better late then never."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo