Author's Note: This is the sequel to " . . . as usual." If you haven't read that, I would strongly suggest doing so, as you really need to know what happened. In addition, this is a lemon . . . actually, this chapter is more meringue, but it does have a hint of lemon. If you are offended by sexual acts and such, please do not read this.
Oh, and the colors are explained in another note down at the bottom. *grin*
Disclaimer: I do not own Escaflowne. (Well, I do, but only the videocassettes, which, I understand, don't really count. I mean, I don't own the rights and whatnot.) I also do not own any of the song lyrics used within this fiction- they are the property of their respective owners, and I have noted the singer and song title. I DO own the plot (such as it is). Nyah.
Naked to the Eye
-Hey, when you look at me, baby,Chapter 1: I'll Be There
-I swear to you
-I will always be there for you
-There's nothing I won't do
-Bryan Adams
I'll Always Be Right There
When Hitomi became aware, she was lying on the floor of her room on her stomach, head pillowed on her arms. Her homework was spread out around her. She could recall starting some of the math homework, but must have dropped off to sleep fairly quickly; she'd only finished one problem. She realized that the paper and the text were blurry, and blinked.
That's when she felt the tears coursing down her cheeks, the sobs locked within her chest.
She pulled herself to her knees, still crying, though she wasn't sure of the reason. She tried to remember, closing her eyes, wiping her face. Was it something before I fell asleep? Was it . . . something I dreamt?
Her eyes flew open, and she covered her mouth with one hand. Van! She'd dreamt of Van, he was calling out to her, begging her to help him . . . though she'd never heard him beg before. But he was in such pain . . . not bodily pain, thank goodness, but harsh emotional pain, somehow even worse than when Folken was killed.
She expected the dream to fade, the feelings it evoked to fade, but they would not. Guilt . . . shame . . . and beneath it all, anger, terribly muted. Slowly, she realized that she was still feeling what he felt. In his great distress, he'd reached out to her and tapped into her mind. It was all unconscious on his part, because she could not sense him speaking to her, just the dark swirling emotions, black and brown and deep, deep crimson. The feelings started to scare her. Why was he feeling this way? What had happened?
One thing was clear, though; he needed her. Why else would he call to her so?
"God, I hope this works," she muttered, closing her eyes again. She waded into those whirling complexities, leaking into her mind. When she reached the center, she imagined her call to him as a beam of light, like the one that had transported them to Gaea the first time. Van?
Was she in his mind now? The emotions were much stronger here, hurricane force in her head, in darker hues than she had perceived before. She wondered how long she could take the buffeting; she could feel those negative feelings around her. Van, she called again, more desperately now, as her fright for him grew. Van, please, answer me . . .
. . . Hitomi? The swirling colors surged toward her, menacing in their intensity. She cried out at the force of it, and immediately, it stopped, then retreated, still there, looming, but not overwhelming.
Van, what's wrong? Why are you so upset? There was no response. She waited, then asked, in a small voice, Do . . . do you want me to come there . . . to you?
. . . yes . . . please? There was a slightly . . . choked tone to his reply.
Can you hang on for just a few minutes? I've got to tell my mother something, so she won't think I've run away. Don't go, please . . .
. . . all right . . .
The powerful colors retreated even further as she slowly unwound her consciousness from his, but they did not disappear. She opened her eyes, and blinked at the bright afternoon sun. It was Sunday; Yukari would be home for a while yet, though she and Amano had a date later. Ignoring the textbooks strewn on the floor, she scrambled to her feet and dashed to the phone in her parents' room. After dialing Yukari's number, she nervously twined the cord in her fingers, while trying to keep her own emotions from making their way back to Van. She was horribly worried about him. She'd never heard him sound so . . . defeated. He was angry, yes, but usually, his anger was the first thing to show . . .
"Hello?" It was Yukari's mother.
"Hello, Uchida-san. May I speak to Yukari? It's Hitomi."
"Just a moment, Hitomi."
After a brief pause, Yukari picked up. "Hitomi? What's up?"
She took a deep breath. "Yukari, I need you to do me a huge favor . . ."
A few minutes later, she hung up the phone, and hurried back to her own room. She threw some extra clothes into her duffel, and ran downstairs. "Mom, I'm going to Yukari's house," she called as she pulled on her shoes. Then, before her mother could reply from the family room, she was out the door and running down the street.
Van? Are you ready? she asked, as soon as she was able, out of sight of the house. She was running toward the school.
. . . how? The surge of emotion nearly overcame her again, but he fought it back for her as she cringed. Now it was streaked with the yellow of confusion.
When I get to the track- where you came back for me- wish me back. Wish me back as strong and hard as you can, and I'll do the same from here. I don't know if it will work, but I can't think of anything else.
She reached the red oval of the school's track. It was deserted, being a summer Sunday, for which she was grateful. No one would see her go. She trotted down to the tree, by which Amano had stood with her pendant. That was where Van had appeared both times. Now, Van, wish for me to be there . . .
His faint voice became stronger, clearer. I wish for Hitomi to be here with me!
At the same moment, she thought, I wish to be with Van on Gaea!
She had her eyes closed, but she felt the beam of light come and lift her up. Even through her worry, she smiled. At least, I'll see Van again.
-My heart's in your world tonight
-Bad English
Possession
As the dazzle of the light died away, she felt her feet lightly touch down. She blinked and looked around in confusion. This . . . this isn't Fanelia, she thought. This is Palas! What is Van doing in Palas? She could see the city, far down the slope of the hill, hugging the bay. She was up above the windmill where Escaflowne had been hidden. It was an excellent view, but she had no eyes for it, now. She turned, searching for Van. He has to be nearby, she thought, trying to keep herself calm. There! Duffel bouncing against her hip, she jogged toward him. He was sitting beneath a tree, up the ridge just a little way. As she got closer, she felt her heart freeze. He sat with his back to the trunk, his knees drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them, hiding his face. He was just like that after he bonded with Escaflowne, she thought, stunned. I had to go to the Mystic Valley to bring him back . . . What could have happened? She started to sprint up the hill.
She realized that the swirling emotions she'd felt from him, the colors, were not as strong now, but if she thought about them, about him, they were still there at the edge of her mind. A vortex of black, marbled with muddy brown, underlaid by deep, dark red.
She was breathing a little hard when she reached the top of the rise, but didn't' stop running until she reached him. She dropped her bag, and flung herself to her knees beside him, panting. "Van?" She reached out to touch his arm.
He raised his head a little, peering though his dark forelock. He blinked, almost as if he couldn't believe what he saw. "You came," he whispered, his voice thick. But he did not otherwise move.
"Of course I came," she said softly. "You needed me." With her other hand, she brushed his hair back off his forehead, frowned as he closed his eyes and shuddered. He had been crying, she saw, as he rested his cheek against his knees. The tracks of tears stained his face. "Oh, Van, what's wrong?" Her heart ached for him, and she felt a wave of anger, quickly beaten back, at anyone who dared hurt Van.
Slowly, he unfolded himself, as if every muscle pained him. When he spoke, his voice was flat, with an undercurrent of tears. "Hitomi . . . I . . . I had to do something today . . . I didn't want to . . . and now, I feel . . . I feel like I lost a part of me . . . like . . ." His voice broke, and he closed his eyes, willing the tears away.
Hitomi didn't hesitate, but wrapped her arms around him and gently pulled him against her, his raven head resting on her shoulder. He was trembling; she could feel his shoulders shaking under her hands. She closed her eyes, trying to keep her own tears from flowing, and rested her face against his hair. He was taking deep, gasping breaths, hot and harsh against her neck. "It's all right, Van," she murmured. "Let it out . . . It's all right, I'm here now . . ." She stroked his back lightly with one hand.
Van fought to control his breathing, to control the tears threatening. It took him a few minutes, but he managed. Hitomi heard the change. He was still breathing deeply, but without that sobbing note his breaths held before. She found that she was crooning softly in her throat, just a noise made to comfort, but she didn't stop.
She held him like that for many long minutes, rocking him slightly. He had put his arms around her in return. She could feel his hands, large and warm, against her back. Quietly, she asked, "Do you want to tell me what happened?"
Instantly, he pulled back from her as if she were fire. She put her hands on his shoulders, though, before he could retreat further. He shook his head, almost violently. "No . . . I can't . . ." he whispered plaintively, hiding behind his bangs.
She could have kicked herself. "It's all right . . . You don't have to if you don't want to . . ." She tried to pull him back into her embrace, but he resisted. She gave up, and swept his hair away from his eyes again, still holding him. His beautiful cinnamon eyes . . . they looked lost now, lost and pained, almost like a wounded animal in their intensity. His face looked pale beneath the tearstains.
His hair feels so soft . . . She was shocked that she could have such a thought, now, while he was in such anguish. She was glad that he wasn't looking at her to see her blush, but was staring at nothing.
There was something digging into her shin, and she shifted so she was no longer kneeling on it. His startled gaze flew back to her at her movement, and she felt him tense again under her fingers. She tightened her grip a bit, then loosened it, a quick squeeze of his shoulders. "You don't have to tell me what happened now," she said. "It can wait until you're ready. Ok?" She smiled at him encouragingly.
Hesitantly, he nodded, biting his lip. "Can you . . . can you see it in my mind?" The words were both hopeful and fearful. "I don't know if I can say the words . . ."
She shook her head regretfully. "No, I can't see or know what you're thinking unless you direct it to me. I can see the color of your thoughts, and feel what you feel, but I can't do that." She cupped his cheek, just for a moment. "I wouldn't invade your mind like that anyway, even if I could. I think it would help you more to talk about it. But not now," she added hastily.
He nodded again, more firmly this time. She let her hands trail down his arms, to grasp his hands where they now fisted in his lap. She forced his hands to unclench, and held them gently in her own. She studied his drawn face again, and said, "You look so tired, Van. Here." She pivoted so she was sitting next to him, her legs curled beneath her. "I'll be a pillow for you. Just rest." She patted her thigh, and he looked at her skeptically. "Do I look that uncomfortable?" she teased him mildly. "It's all right. No one will bother us out here." He still did not move, but looked at her sadly, silently. She sighed. "Van, I promise, I will still be here when you wake up, if you fall asleep. I will be here for as long as you need me." She stared at him, willing him to believe her. Finally, it seemed he did.
He rearranged his sword, and lay on his side, his head pillowed on her leg. She rested one hand on the top of his head, while the other played gently with the hair at the nape of his neck. Almost of its own accord, that hand started to rub the taut muscles in his neck. He was facing away from her, down toward the bay, and it was easy enough for her to extend the massage down to his shoulders. He sighed, warm against her legs, and when she looked into the back of her mind, she could see the vortex of his emotions slowing, the dark colors slowly infusing with a bit of greenish blue, a hint of true blue.
Van was nearly asleep when she stopped rubbing his shoulders. He rolled onto his back, and his eyes fluttered open for a second, then closed again. She let her hand rest on his shoulder, while the other gently smoothed his bangs back from his brow.
"F'r'ver," he muttered.
"Hmmm?" But he was asleep, his breath deep and slow.
Oh, Van, she thought sadly. What happened? It must have been really horrible if you don't want to tell me . . . She leaned her head back, letting it fall against the rough tree trunk behind her, and stared up at the bright green leaves for a moment, before letting her attention return to him.
His face slackened in his slumber, and he looked so young, too young to have the responsibility of running a kingdom, too young to have lost his entire family. My poor Van, she thought, and blushed at the possessiveness in the thought. He needs to talk about what happened- whatever it was. He needs to release his emotions, but he won't. Always so stoic, trying to pretend he's not hurt. She dared to lightly caress his face, and he stirred. She returned to stroking his hair- so feathery soft, like his wings, she thought- and he dropped back from the edge of consciousness.
She was lost in her own thoughts, and shivered in surprise when a chill breeze picked up from the bay. When she looked around, she saw that hours had passed, and the sun was close to setting. We'll have to find somewhere to stay, she thought. I haven't any money to stay at an inn, so maybe we can stay at the palace again, or maybe with Allen. I think his house is outside of town, and not too far away. She shivered again as the evening wind grew stronger. She pulled the sleeves down on her tee shirt, and rubbed her upper arms briskly. She could feel goosebumps on her legs, except for where Van lay. The light blue skirt she wore reached to just below mid-thigh, and the material was thin. She had nothing heavier in her duffel, just a few changes of summer clothes and underthings, that was all. Her stomach reminded her that her lunch had been a long time ago.
"Van." She shook him gently. "Van, wake up." He moaned as she shook him harder, and his eyes cracked open. She smiled down at him. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yes." He sat up and looked around. "I guess I was asleep for a while," he said, and she was relieved to hear almost normal tones from him.
"You were." She stopped herself from saying You must have needed it, not wanting to remind him again of what had happened. She straightened her legs out in front of her. They tingled a little from being in the same position for so long.
Slowly, he climbed to his feet. He turned, looking up at the ridge higher up, past which Fanelia lay, then he looked down at her. "I suppose we'd better find a place to stay for the night," he said, unknowingly echoing her earlier thoughts. "It'll be dark soon." He bent to give her a hand up, and pulled her easily to her feet. "Your hand, Hitomi- it's so cold," he blurted in consternation, holding it between both his own to warm it.
"It'll warm up when we start walking," she said cheerfully. "That will get the blood flowing." Van seemed curiously loath to release her hand. She twined her fingers with his, squeezing a bit, then reached for her bag with her free hand. Slinging it over her shoulder, she asked, "Where are we going?"
He led her down off the ridge, carefully picking the way, as she wore only a light pair of sandals. Hitomi found she rather liked the feel of his hand in hers, his long warm fingers, the slight calluses of his palm.
"It's a long way back to Palas," he said, looking at the twilit sky. "I don't think we'll make it back before dark, and they close the city gates at night."
"Allen's house is outside the city," she offered. "I don't think it's too far away. He took me to see it one day. I think I remember about where it is." She felt the sudden stiffness in his body, communicating itself through his hand. Still clasping it, she shook it a little. "Oh, stop that," she chided him gently. "Allen is my friend, and he's your friend too, believe it or not. He'll let us stay the night- or as long as we want."
He paused, and looked back at her over his shoulder. He could clearly make out her smile. "If you're sure," was all he said in response, but somehow, her smile let him relax, that and the light pressure of her fingers.
It was fully dark before Hitomi led them through the gates of Allen's manor, and up the long graveled path. Van stumbled slightly behind her, still holding her hand. The few hours she'd let him sleep had refreshed him, but only for a little while. It had been a longer walk than she'd expected. She was very hungry and a little footsore. "Just a little further, Van," she encouraged. "Then we can have supper and baths and some rest." He said nothing.
When they reached the large house, Hitomi rapped sharply on the door. Van slumped tiredly against the outer wall of the house, next to the door, keeping her hand in his. After a few moments, the door opened, and Allen stood framed in the warm light. She summoned a smile, despite her worry for Van. "Hello, Allen, can we . . ." She was cut off by his sudden embrace, caught against his chest. Van, seeing this, tried to disentangle his hand from hers. Don't you let go of me, Van Fanel! she thought fiercely, directing it at the sudden swirling of his emotions. She thought she caught a tint of dark green amid the black and grey and brown. To emphasize her thought, she clenched his fingers tightly, and abruptly, the swirling stopped, replaced instead with a wash of astonishment that made her smile.
"Hitomi," Allen murmured, not even noticing Van. "You're back! How I've missed you!" He set her away from him, his hands on her shoulders. "What are you doing back? I thought . . ." He trailed away, seeing one of her arms held out from her side, and turned to see why. His eyes widened when he saw Van.
"Van helped me to come back," Hitomi said, following Allen's gaze. "Allen, please, may we spend the night here? It's too late now- we can't walk back to Fanelia tonight. Would it be all right?" she asked, very sweetly.
Allen released her and ran his fingers through his long locks. "Of course it's all right," he said, though it sounded forced to him. "Come in." He stepped aside to let them enter, and quietly shut the door behind them.
They stood, hands still clasped, in the entryway. Very faintly, Hitomi could hear a stringed instrument of some kind, but she couldn't identify the type. Whoever was playing it did so haltingly, as if using a skill long out of practice. She realized that she had automatically taken a position standing in front of Van, almost protectively. He stood quietly behind her, content to let her take the lead with Allen.
Allen glanced quickly at their entwined hands, then away just as quickly. "I'll have our housekeeper get some rooms ready for you," he said, a bit too brightly. "If you're hungry, while she's doing that, I'll get you some bread and other things from the pantry."
Hitomi smiled at him warmly. "Thank you so much, Allen. That would be great."
Van coughed. "Thank you, Allen, but I'm not hungry. If it's all right, I'd just like to bathe and go to sleep." He didn't notice Hitomi suddenly frowning at him in concern as Allen turned away.
"Are you sure, Van?" she asked, tightening her grasp. When he nodded with a ghost of a smile, she smiled back and released his hand, albeit reluctantly. "Then I'll come by to say good night after your bath."
Allen had rung for his housekeeper, and given her instructions. Van trudged silently upstairs after the plump woman. Hitomi watched him, her eyes slightly sad, while Allen watched her, a bit hungrily. Something about her still captivated him. Was it her wide trusting eyes, that delicate jade green? Was it her unconscious athletic grace, her long limbs and slender body? Just what it was, he couldn't say. But he knew he still loved her, still wanted her. From long practice, he undressed her in his mind, imagining what every curve of her body looked like, felt like. He imagined those long limbs wrapping around him, as she moaned in ecstasy . . .
"Allen?" She was disconcerted by his stare, and blushed.
He blinked, and reality swiftly descended over him. Her pink cheeks begged the question- was she thinking the same way? "I'm sorry, Hitomi," he said smoothly. "I was just wondering- why have you come back?"
She felt the wash of color in her face subside, and smiled at him. "I'll tell you over some supper, ok?"
She told him all she knew about it while she ate. "He won't tell me what happened," she finished, wiping a few crumbs from her mouth. She was pleasantly full, with bread and fresh butter and a bit of rich cheese. "Do you know- has something happened in Fanelia? Or to Merle? I can't imagine anything else making him so upset."
Allen considered, looking away. They were sitting at a small table in the kitchen, with the hearth fire crackling merrily behind them. To one side stood a door that led to a great dark dining room, another into the main hallway. "Nor can I. I haven't heard anything from Fanelia until now. It happened today? Then it's probably not . . . Hitomi?"
Hitomi stared blankly at him, her face becoming frightened. She'd felt a sudden sharpness in Van, the swirling emotions cut by something shining bright. "He wouldn't," she breathed, leaping to her feet. She was at the door into the hall before Allen had even blinked.
"He wouldn't what? Hitomi!" Allen called after her. He managed to catch up with her in the hall, by the stairs, and grabbed her arm.
"His sword, Allen! Let me go!" She wrenched away from him, and continued her dash through the house. Halfway up the stairs, she felt the sharpness simply die away, to a dim swath against his dark thoughts. She imagined him bleeding . . . but through it all, she had the sense he was in no physical pain- she was certain that she would know- and it helped her calm down. She knew he would never contemplate that, normally, but now was not normal . . .
Allen was right behind her, and almost ran her over when she slowed. "Which room is his, Allen?" she asked quietly, walking now, as Allen stared at her in confusion. Where was the panic of moments ago? She turned and smiled at him. "Sorry. I just overreacted," she apologized, as if she could sense his thoughts as well as Van's.
Nonplussed, he indicated a door, slightly ajar, and she thanked him, before knocking and walking in. She closed it softly behind her, and mentally shook her head at herself. When she had recognized the sharpness as thoughts of his sword, she'd first thought he was so depressed he intended suicide. As the brightness dissipated, and still his thoughts remained strong, she realized he was not, but was merely cleaning and sharpening the blade. He was too strong to kill himself, she thought. He can't.
There he was, sitting on the floor, his hair damp from his bath, wearing an extra robe of Allen's, examining the curve of his sword. He took up a cloth from beside him, making a rag from what had once been a face cloth, and wiped it down the blade, causing it to gleam brightly- the same brightness she had sensed.
At the click of the door, he glanced up, oblivious to her quickly stilled fear, and smiled slightly. She was relieved to see he was more at ease, his cheeks pink from scrubbing. He swiped the sword again, thrust it into the scabbard, and stood. "I try to clean it every night," he said, and leant it against the chest at the foot of the bed. "And I think she took all my clothes. This is all I found when I got out. I hope she remembers to bring me something else of Allen's to wear tomorrow . . ."
Hitomi grinned. "Likely it'll be too big. You'd look like you were wearing your brother's cast offs."
He blinked at her. His smile was rather lopsided as he answered, "I guess I would."
Open mouth, insert foot, she berated herself severely. How can I keep saying these thoughtless things to him? "I'm sorry, I didn't . . ."
"Did you imagine me in his Strategos cloak?" he interrupted her, smiling shyly.
She clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing outright. "Erk," was all she could get out. Her eyes were wide above her hand, staring at him in disbelief. Who was this, and what had he done with Van?! She managed to compose herself, and let her hand fall away. "I'm going to have that image in my head all night now," she scolded him, still grinning.
He shrugged, unable to say anything as a giant yawn hit him. She noticed then his sleepy eyes, half lidded.
"You weren't waiting up just for me, were you?" she asked carefully, taking a step away from the door, toward him.
"You said you would come by," he said a little defensively. "It wouldn't be polite to be asleep, would it?"
"I would have understood." She was less than an arm's length away from him. So close . . . "But since you are still awake . . ." Before her courage could desert her, she embraced him, feeling him stiffen in surprise, then relax. His arms came around her as well. They leaned against each other for a few minutes.
Hitomi breathed in his fresh clean scent, and felt her heart start beating a bit faster and louder in her ears. He's so warm . . . he's making me blush, she thought, feeling her cheeks pinken again. Taking a quick peek into the back of her mind, where he was still connected with her, she saw his thoughts slowly drifting into many different streaks of a contented blue-green, shading into a deeper blue, no longer a vortex. Well, that's good. Gently, she pulled back just a little bit, looking up into his face. At her movement, he opened his eyes, staring at her a little solemnly. Her nerve did fail her at last, and she pressed her lips to his cheek instead of his mouth. "Good night, Van," she whispered. She slipped out of his loosening embrace and let the door click shut behind her as she left.
She didn't know his fingers touched the spot where her lips had met his flesh, didn't see his faint smile, or the light brightening his sad eyes.
I am such a . . . such a . . . oh! I can't even find the word! she thought, furious at herself, taking a step away from the door. He's in emotional turmoil, and there I go and try to give him more! He doesn't need me throwing myself at him . . . and I'm not really sure he feels that way . . .
She looked up, and saw someone else in the hallway, staring at her and fidgeting. It was a girl, with silver-gilt hair and bright blue eyes, wearing a heavy robe. Hitomi blinked, then smiled. She looked so much like Allen; she had to be his sister, Celena.
"Hitomi?" The girl's voice was light and pleasant, if a bit uncertain. She relaxed when Hitomi nodded. "I'm Celena. Allen wanted me to show you to your room, and see if you need any nightclothes or anything."
"Thank you, Celena. Allen has told me a lot about you . . ."
The next few hours were lost in girl talk, after Celena had shown Hitomi to the bath and lent her a nightgown. She laughed when Hitomi rolled her eyes at the froths of lace on the gown. "I know- it's horrible. My brother has absolutely no concept of fashion, or even comfort. It scratches!" She was wearing an identical nightdress beneath her robe. Hitomi sat on Celena's bed and they talked for a long time, making gentle fun of Allen, and discussing clothes, boys, clothes . . .
It was quite late when Hitomi yawned. "I'm tired. I should let you sleep, too. But I really enjoyed talking with you, Celena." She giggled. "I don't think I'll be able to see Allen the same way anymore, now that you've told me about the chicken . . ."
Celena laughed too. "G'night, Hitomi. See you tomorrow."
At the door to her room, Hitomi paused. Her room was just across from Van's, and she thought she heard something. A muffled thump? A stifled moan . . . Without hesitation, she sneaked his door open and slipped in, latching it quietly behind her.
A shaft of moonlight fell across the bed, illuminating his thrashing form, caught in a nightmare. "No," he muttered, tossing his head to and fro, a frown creasing his brow. "No, stop . . . it hurts . . ."
Hitomi bit her lip to keep from crying at his anguish, and quickly stepped to the side of the bed. "Van, wake up!" she called softly, shaking him. "Van, it's only a bad dream, wake up!"
He came awake with a start, gasping, his eyes wide in the moonlight. He jerked up onto his elbows, the covers slithering down his bare chest, then weakly fell back, closing his eyes. She sat on the edge of the bed, and used her sleeve to blot the sweat from his forehead. Gradually, his breathing returned to normal.
"Was it about . . . what happened today?" she asked quietly. She longed to touch him, to give him comfort, and her fingers slid down to take his hand.
In the uncertain shadows, she thought she saw him nod. "Yes." His voice was small, lost, not like him at all.
"What did they do that hurt you so?" she whispered, pleading to understand.
He turned his face away, eyes closed. "Hitomi . . . I . . . I can't . . ." he said brokenly. "Please, not now . . ."
"All right." She stroked his hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push. I . . . I just want to help you." A thought started to take form in her tired brain. She pressed his hand, then released it and stood. "Move over."
"What?" Surprised, he looked back at her, his mouth an O.
"Move over, let me in." She pushed at him gently, but he wouldn't budge.
"Why? What are you doing?" She could tell he was shocked at her actions.
"You didn't have a bad dream this afternoon, when you were sleeping on my lap," she said in a reasonable tone. "You did have one just now, when I wasn't here. So, something about me keeps the nightmares away." She grinned, knowing he would neither see it nor appreciate it. "So let me in, and I'll do whatever it is . . ."
He was silent for a long time, but she could see his mouth working. Finally, in a low, embarrassed voice, he choked out, "You can't."
"Why not?" She was genuinely confused.
In the same tone, he muttered, "Hitomi . . . I . . . I'm not wearing anything. It wouldn't be proper."
Well. That would be a problem, she thought, cheeks reddening. Then she said, "So, you just stay under the sheet, and I'll stay on top of it, under the blanket. That way, everything should be fine." When he still hesitated, she said with mock exasperation, "Look, I don't bite, and I don't hog the covers." Softening her tone, she continued, "If you really don't want me to, I won't, but I thought it might help. I just don't want to see you hurting anymore."
Stiffly, he moved to the other side of the bed, and lifted the blanket so she could crawl in, making sure to keep the sheet over his nudity. The bed was wide enough for two people . . . if they were friendly. There was a bit of shifting and tugging and pulling before they were comfortable. Van lay curled up on one side, staring at the wall, with Hitomi spooned behind him, but not quite touching, except where her hand rested on his side. "Good night, Van," she whispered again, against the back of his neck, sending shivers through him. She was asleep almost instantly.
Van closed his eyes after he heard her drop off. His thoughts were all in a jumble. As much as he tried to block it off, what had happened- what Dryden had done, he admitted finally- kept creeping in. What was his pride, compared to his people? If I'd felt my duty less strongly, I wouldn't be here now . . . Why wouldn't he stop? Why couldn't he see . . . Tears ran down his face unchecked, and his shoulders quivered with his silent sobs.
As if sensing his distress, Hitomi snuggled closer to him, her front pressed along his back, her knees tucked in behind his, through the thin sheet. Her hand slid down until it lay splayed over his chest, and pressed slightly. "Van," she murmured, her face nestled between his shoulder blades.
Even asleep, she tries to comfort me, he thought, drying his tears with the sheet, bunched up in his hands. What would she say if she knew . . .? Releasing the sheet, he traced her spread fingers very lightly with one of his own. Would she . . . just leave? Would she laugh? He closed his eyes again. How can I tell her I love her now? I am . . . ruined now, I guess, and she's so . . . A hopeless smile crept over his face despite himself. She's so wonderful. He realized his heart was thudding under her palm, and pressed his hand over hers for a second. "I love you," he whispered. It was easy, knowing she couldn't hear.
-Look up, look up, look up-
-The sky is falling . . .
-Michael Bradley
Look Up! (The Robotech Perfect Soundtrack)
Allen lay awake. He'd heard his sister and Hitomi talk late into the night, and then he'd heard Hitomi leave for her own room. Now, thinking about her, laying in that bed, alone . . . he'd gotten himself into a state. It was a state of intense, almost painful arousal, merely from thinking about her.
Was she thinking about him? Was she imagining . . . as he was? He saw her beneath him, felt her wet, tight warmth surrounding him, as he awakened her to the joys of pleasure. He shivered in anticipation. He'd already decided that, just after sunrise, before his sister or Van awoke, he would go to Hitomi, and lay it all before her . . . and do as his body demanded, if she felt the same.
She came back for Van. The thought nagged at the back of his mind. She came back with him before, and now for him again. The thought was not easily ignored, but the heat of his passion obscured it. He tried to control his desire, to tame it to manageability. Eventually, it worked. He didn't want to scare her. But then he would imagine her again, her eyes blazing with her passion, offering herself to him . . . and he would have to clench his hands at his sides, to keep from touching himself. Control, he thought doggedly, control.
He dozed a little, worn out by his battle with himself. When he opened his eyes, sunlight was just starting to stream through his eastern window, filtered through the trees outside. Now, he thought. He pulled on the old trousers and shirt he'd worn the night before, but didn't bother with anything else. He was decent, and anything else would just be an impediment. His erection strained against the buttons of his fly.
When he reached Hitomi's door, he paused, and ran through the little speech he'd prepared. He didn't knock on the door, but just opened it and stepped in. He glanced eagerly at the bed, and got a shock. She's not here? he thought. Where is she? Where . . . Realization dawned, and his heart sank. No, she wouldn't. She wouldn't do that! He backed out of the empty room, and turned around, staring at the door to Van's room. She's not . . . Slowly, very slowly, he opened the door, and stuck his head in.
No . . . In the dim light, for Van's room was on the western side of the house, he could just make out the young king's midnight hair, and Hitomi's sandy head, next to his on the pillow. They were facing each other, still asleep, foreheads gently touching. Each had an arm wrapped around the other. Allen could see that Hitomi was wearing a nightshirt, could see the white fabric over her shoulders, but that meant nothing. Van was unclothed. Allen could see the golden tone of his skin against the white sheets, the white sleeve of her gown.
Allen's disbelief still stunned him as he quietly shut Van's door again, but as he turned away, rage overcame him. How dare he! he seethed, storming back to his bedroom, too upset to even think clearly. How dare he seduce my innocent Hitomi! He flung himself into the chair at his desk and stewed, growing angrier the whole time. Finally, he stood, and finished dressing, pulling on a riding jacket over his shirt, as the morning was still a bit chill. Reseating himself at his desk for a moment, he scribbled a note for his sister, to slip under her door. After he did so, he stomped down the stairs and out the door, giving in to the urge to slam it behind him. He saddled a horse from the stable and rode off, in no particular direction.
He wondered vaguely how long he'd have to wait to find an open tavern. Sometimes, there was something to be said for getting stinking drunk.
The front door slamming made Hitomi blink. She smiled drowsily at Van, still sleeping soundly beside her. He must be tired . . . and he hadn't had any more nightmares. That's good. She noticed then that he'd draped an arm over her, and her smile grew. I guess he liked having me here after all. But I've got to get up before someone comes looking for us, and finds I'm not in my room. Before she moved, however, there was something she had to do. Staring at his handsome face made her heart beat faster. His lips were slightly parted in his slumber, and how they tempted her. "I love you," she breathed, and softly pressed her mouth to his. She thought she felt him respond, and pulled back quickly, anxiously searching for some sign he was awake. But there was none. As gently as possible, she extricated herself from his half-embrace, and the tangle they'd unintentionally made of the bedding. She brushed her fingers lightly over his cheek, and spoke to him quietly. "Van, I'm going to get up now. I'll be across the hall, or downstairs in the kitchen. You'll be able to find me. But for now, just sleep." Reluctantly, she pulled her hand away and left.
I'm really still asleep, Van thought, opening his eyes. This has to be a dream, because she'd never do what I just thought she did . . . But his lips still tingled from her kiss, and his ears still buzzed from her words. When did she become so bold? he wondered, then smiled slightly. She's always been bolder than I've thought. He rolled onto his back, let his eyes drift shut again. Just a few more minutes of this wonderful dream, he thought. Then, we'll go . . . But he was asleep before he could finish the thought.
The next time he awoke, the sun was strong and bright, and he knew it was late in the morning, perhaps almost midday. He sat up and looked around for his clothes, but in vain. There was, however, a pile of other clothes, folded on the chest. The fabric of the long sleeved shirt was soft and white, well worn, and when he held it up, it didn't look too large. He pulled it on, and climbed out of bed to don the pants, which were only a bit long and a little loose in the waist. He guessed they were Allen's from when he was about this age, and felt slightly uncomfortable in them. He sat to pull on his boots, and buckled on his sword. Feeling more himself, he went in search of Hitomi.
He found her lying on the bed in her room. She had been reading something, but had obviously had an ear cocked for him, as she was looking up expectantly as he entered. He saw her eyes widen. "You look different," she said, and he thought he detected surprise and disapproval in her tone.
He shrugged. "This was all there was."
She smiled. "I didn't say it looked bad, Van. It's just . . . different. Not what I'm used to seeing you in." She sat up, drawing her legs beneath her. "Actually, I kind of like it. You look good."
Immediately, he felt much less self-conscious. Her approval meant a lot, somehow.
"So, what are we doing today?" she asked, as he crossed the room to examine the view from her window.
"I'm not sure. We wouldn't make it to Fanelia by dark if we left now." He let the lacy curtain fall back into place, but didn't look at her as he inquired, "Would Allen mind if we stayed another day?"
"I don't know. I'd ask him if he were here." Van turned to her then, and saw her shrug. "Celena said he left to go to Palas early this morning. She found a note. I'd ask her, but she's gone to her lessons at her tutor's house. I don't think she'd mind, though, even if we didn't ask until later. She's very nice."
"Then I guess we'll stay until tomorrow." He could think of nothing else to say. To himself, Van sounded nervous. He could still hear her words of earlier, even if they were a dream, and he wasn't quite sure how to act around her now. She looked different too, now that she wasn't wearing her uniform. Her outfit was similar to what she'd worn yesterday, except the red tee had short sleeves, and the skirt was a dark blue, showing rather a lot of her long legs.
Hitomi had to stop herself from staring. He looked so handsome . . . the white shirt suited him, contrasting with his tanned skin, his black hair. It flowed loosely over him, and he'd tucked it into the black trousers. His sword belt only emphasized his narrow waist. Hitomi, stop ogling him! she told herself firmly. Wipe your chin, you're practically drooling. "Would you like to go for a walk?" she asked, striving for a sense of normalcy. "We can explore the fields and the forest, if you want . . ."
He seemed relieved when he looked up at her. "Yes, I would," he replied with a small smile.
She leapt to her feet and picked up her sandals. "Let's go, then."
They made a quick stop in the kitchen, and Hitomi wrapped some bread and fruit up in a napkin, to take with them for lunch. Van grabbed a piece of fruit before she would pack it away, and started to consume it as they left.
The sun was directly overhead when they found the stream. It ran through a small glade in the forest behind the Schezar manor. It was fast, wide and shallow, with rocks set almost like stepping stones all the way across. Van helped her across the slippery rocks, surprised at her lack of nerve. When he mentioned it on the other side, however, she told him a bit tartly that if a runner breaks her ankle or something, even if it heals perfectly, she often can't compete as well as she did before. Then she grinned. "You'd better hope I don't break anything. You'd have to carry me all the way back, and I'd make you explain what happened to my mother." He smiled.
They ate their lunch in near silence. Van's mind was leaping from the previous day's ordeal to Hitomi's words- he'd convinced himself they weren't a dream- and back again. Hitomi wondered at the ever-changing color of his thoughts. Finally, after they had finished, Van said quietly, "Hitomi, there's something I need to ask you . . ."
She pivoted a bit on the grass so she almost faced him. "You can ask me anything," she said when he hesitated. "Go on."
He bowed his head, staring at the blades of grass between his feet. This was so hard . . . "I guess first, I should tell you that this morning . . . I think I heard you say something you didn't want me to hear." He looked up at her gasp, saw her cheeks go pink, and a hand cover her mouth. Before she could say a word, though, he leaned forward and took her other hand. "But . . . I said the same thing to you . . . last night . . . after you fell asleep." He felt himself blush as well. "I . . . I love you, Hitomi," and he felt a weight lift from his soul as he spoke.
"You . . . you do?" she asked, taking her hand away from her face. She smiled, her heart full of joy, when he nodded, cheeks red. "Just in case you thought it was a dream, I'll say it again. I love you." She squeezed his hand. A thought struck her. "You were awake, then, when I kissed you . . ." He nodded again, smiling shyly. "Was . . . was it all right? I mean, did you like it?"
"I'm not sure. It wasn't very long, and I was still waking up." He looked hopefully through his bangs at her. "Would you mind trying it again?"
"I'd like to," Hitomi replied softly, sure it wasn't audible over her pounding heart. They leaned toward each other slowly, eyes closing, and their lips met for what she intended as a brief kiss. When she started to pull away, though, he raised a hand to her cheek, and held her to him just a few quick heartbeats longer before releasing her. "How was that?" she murmured, feeling the warmth of his hand, his breath against her face.
"I . . . liked it . . ." She could tell he was a bit flustered at his own actions.
She opened her eyes, then, and saw he was smiling. Well, so am I, she thought. I liked it, too. But she could tell there was something more. "That wasn't all you wanted to say, was it."
His smile died, and he shook his head. "No." His cinnamon eyes pleaded with her. "What I wanted to ask was . . . do you think you'd still feel the same . . . if I told you what happened yesterday?" She hated to hear the defeat in his voice, hated the inconsolable sadness . . .
"Yes," she said emphatically. "Nothing would ever change how I feel. That's part of what love is. No matter what, I'd still love you." She studied his face, full of uncertainty. "Are you ready to talk about it now?"
"Kind of. If I don't, I'm not sure I ever could."
"Then go ahead." She took his hand, held it tightly.
He told her everything, watching her reaction. About halfway through, he couldn't look at her anymore, and closed his eyes. She saw the glitter of tears on his cheeks. Silently, she held him as she had the previous day beneath that other tree, as much to comfort him as to hide her own tears. That he had to endure that . . . She quickly tamped down her fierce anger at Dryden, that he would do that to Van . . . She buried her face in his soft hair, and held him as close as she could. His emotions at the back of her mind lashed out at her in full force, and she felt every second of his pain, his shame, relived it as he did. Oh, Van, she thought, it's not your fault! I can't believe he was so heartless . . .
Van finished his story, and reached up to swipe angrily at his face. He'd cried so much . . . was he so weak? He realized then that he could feel Hitomi's entire body trembling. Despair and darkness filled him. The sun in his life had just gone out. She hates me now, he thought despondently. He started to pull away, to relieve her of his odious presence, but she clutched him tighter, confusing him. He exerted more force, and put enough distance between them so he could see her face.
Crying? Why was she crying? Her jade eyes glimmered with tears, her body shook with the effort to keep in her sobs. In wonder, he lifted one hand to her cheek.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I couldn't help it. I can't even imagine . . ." She rested her head on his shoulder, pulling him back into her embrace. "I wish I'd been here," she said, trying to swallow her tears. "I wish I could've stopped him . . . I'd let him rape me if it would've stopped him from hurting you . . ."
"I'd have to kill him." He said it very matter-of-factly, because it was they only way he could. He couldn't even bear to think of Hitomi enduring what he had . . .
"I'd like to kill him for what he's done." She lifted her head and stared into his eyes. "Do you want me to?" she offered, her voice serious. "If you tell me where he is, I'll go . . ."
He shook his head. "No. I only want . . ." He broke off, looking away.
She managed a watery smile. "I told you. My feelings won't change. We're connected. I can't lie to you, my feelings can't lie. Look into the very back of your mind, and tell me what you see."
He did as she requested, and felt her love, saw her emotions as a deep sea of blue, the deepest and brightest and most perfect blue he could imagine, shading into violet as he felt her kiss him very lightly. He was utterly stunned. She . . . she still loves me?
Worriedly, she said, "I didn't know . . . about everything, but if it reminded you of Dryden when I kissed you, I won't."
"No! Nothing you do reminds me of . . . of him." He rested his forehead against hers.
She smiled again. "Good. I'm glad."
They comforted each other silently for a long while. Finally, the westering sun and long shadows prompted them to return to the house. Hitomi splashed her face with icy water from the stream, letting it soothe her aching eyes, then she took a sip. Van knelt next to her to do the same.
They were almost back to the manor when Hitomi asked, "Would you like me to stay with you again tonight? To keep the nightmares away, I mean."
He stopped. "Do you think I'll still have them?" he asked quietly. "I . . . I feel better for having told you about it . . ."
"I don't want you to have to even dream about what happened," she said, looking steadily into his eyes. "They might still come, even though you've talked about it. I'll stay with you- if you want- just in case."
"All right." He gave her his shy smile. "I . . . I liked having you there."
She smiled back. "Really? I liked being there."
After supper, they sat with Celena as she haltingly played an instrument similar to a harp. "This is my torture for your staying here," she laughed. Then she told them of her lessons, rolling her eyes and imitating her tutor. "Allen wants me to be a lady, so I must go to learn deportment and all that rot." She began in a snooty tone, but lost it toward the end. "I'm not sure I want to be a lady. I was . . . him for too long, I think." She looked scared for a moment, but before Hitomi could reach to reassure her, she shook her head and it was gone. She was her merry self again. In response to Hitomi's question on Allen's absence at supper, she would only say cryptically, "This happens from time to time. He's been called away 'on business,' that's what his notes say. I'm not sure where he goes, but I don't think it's business."
There was some hesitation in Van's room a little while later. "Let's just do it like we did last night," Hitomi said. Van wasn't sure if their admissions of love had changed things, but Hitomi was sure that they hadn't. "It worked fine then, it should work again." Having decided the matter, she climbed in, and they spooned, again not quite touching, until Hitomi fell asleep. Once she'd gone to sleep, she cuddled up to his back again, her arm resting over him. He smiled as he dropped off, somehow liking the feel of her soft curves against him.
But it presented him with a problem many hours later. Again, he'd turned to face her in the night, and he awoke to find his hand on her back . . . no, her backside, pulling her hard against him. He was hard against her, too. He could feel his erection pressing insistently against her stomach. Oh, gods, he thought, panicking as he felt how close to the edge he was. I can't . . . I can't . . . His gaze flew to her face as he felt her hips shift against him, almost as if she knew what was happening. Oh, gods, is she awake? But no, she was still asleep, a faint frown creasing her brow. He wanted to kiss it away, wanted to kiss her, but was certain that any such action would bring on his climax. He eased away from her, missing her warmth, rolled off the bed and scrambled for the small bath attached to his room. The wood of the door was cold against his bare shoulders as he leaned against it. He could still feel her against him, her small breasts crushed to his chest, her hips . . . He groaned, "Hitomi," and shuddered as his climax overwhelmed him. He hadn't even touched himself. The aftermath left him weak, and he slid to the floor, eyes closed, panting.
Oh, gods . . . what has happened to me? Why am I thinking about her in such a way? He covered his face with his hands. I love her . . . I don't want to . . . to do to her as Dryden did to me. I don't want to hurt her . . . He sat wallowing in guilt for a few minutes before cleaning up the sticky white splatter of his orgasm.
When he returned to the bedroom, he had to smile, despite his lingering shame. She'd rolled over into his spot, perhaps seeking the warmth he'd left behind. He barely touched her shoulder, and whispered, "Hitomi? Roll over, please?" He couldn't tell if she was awake or not, but she obliged, giving him enough space in which to lie down, his back to her again. Immediately, she rolled back, snuggling up against him once more. Eventually, in spite of the feel of her body against him, and the memories it evoked, he was able to drift off again.
Hitomi woke later to the sound of rain beating against the windows. I guess we're not leaving today, she thought, sitting up. The dim grey light didn't illuminate the room well, but she could still see Van sleeping peacefully next to her. She bent down to give him a quick kiss, then got up. Again, she murmured where she'd be when he awoke, not feeling foolish for talking to a sleeping person, though she supposed she ought.
It wasn't too much later that he appeared in her room again. She jumped off her bed and went to him, smiling brightly. He seemed nervous again, but returned her hard hug.
"I guess we can't leave for home today," Van observed, when they released each other. His hand lingered on her back, an unintentional caress.
"No, I guess not. It looks like it will last all day." Hitomi had to remind herself again not to stare, but it was so difficult . . . She so liked his looks in Allen's old clothes. She wondered vaguely at his hand's actions. "I think we should wait until Allen comes back, to thank him for his generosity."
He nodded. "You're right." Yes, Allen had been very nice, for the few hours he'd been present, he thought. But it's not for my sake, it's only for yours. Where has he been? He blinked as Hitomi slipped away, to put the book she'd been reading back into her bag. Seeing her with her duffel, as he had so many times before, prompted him to ask "Are you missing anything at home? Anything important?" He couldn't keep the wistful tone from his voice. He longed for her to stay, to stay with him.
She looked up at him, smiling. "Nothing as important as you," she replied. "I had to take classes this summer to make up what I missed when I was here before, but that's all I'm missing. My mother won't worry too much about me; Yukari has a story prepared for her. I told you that I'll stay as long as you need me." She sat on the bed. He hadn't moved from the doorway. "What are we going to do today?"
He shrugged. "Whatever you want, I guess."
"Then teach me how to read Gaean. Celena told me Allen has a big library. Let's go there. Please?" She watched him hesitate, and smiled when he nodded. She led him downstairs.
Van spent the rest of the day in a haze of almost-arousal. He seemed to have become sensitized to her. The light touch of her hand, her laugh, even the sight of her- all made him think of her in ways that brought him back to thoughts of his morning's disgrace. It didn't help that she wore a halter top affair that clung to her breasts and didn't cover her midriff, and a pair of short trousers that exposed even more of her slimly muscled legs than her skirts had. He was relieved when a slight chill drove her to pull on an over blouse.
For her part, Hitomi wasn't quite sure why she was acting the way she was. She only knew that touching him made her feel good. She wanted Van to touch her, too, but he would do so with seeming reluctance. It might have something to do with that dream, she thought privately. That . . . erotic dream. It was the only word for it. In the dream, she'd been lying asleep, when suddenly, Van was there with her. He pressed himself against her, his hips grinding against hers, causing a longing within her, something hat was nearly forgotten when she awoke herself to the rain.
When Celena returned, soaking wet, from her lessons, things seemed to ease a bit. Allen still had not returned, but the three still managed to have an enjoyable time. The girls did, at any rate. Van was lost in his own thoughts, staring out at the rain as night drew on.
He debated with himself for a long while as he prepared for bed. Logic dictated that he should send her back to her own room, or even back to her home, though the thought of that twisted his heart. But when the time came, looking into her smiling eyes, he could not. Even though it would probably end up like that morning, or worse, he found that he enjoyed the nearness of her too much to send her away.
As before, when she started to fall asleep, she curled up against his back. That's when he realized she'd gotten under the sheet with him . . . he could feel her bare legs against his. Then her hand slid from its resting place on his side, down to his chest, and then his stomach, and slowly, slowly kept moving down . . .
Hitomi was lost in a vivid fantasy, dreamlike in its unreality, and yet very realistic. She imagined she was curled up against Van, her hand stroking his chest, exploring the feel of his ribs, his muscles. Her hand drifted lower, to trace circles on his flat stomach, around his navel, and lower still, to find what, she was not quite sure . . .
Suddenly a hand grabbed hers tightly, and she awoke with a gasp.
Author's Note 2: Just a quick explaination of the colors. Yes, some of them mean more than one thing, but the things they mean are related. I think all of these appeared in this chapter, but some might appear in the next.
And the obligatory plea for reviews! *grin*