DISCLAIMER:
None of this belongs to me. My cat, however, does claim to have been the
driving inspiration behind Tama-neko, so perhaps I can claim SOME kind of
royalties on that end, at least...
AUTHOR’S NOTE: For those of you who’ve read my work in the past...you’ll
quickly notice that this is a style unlike any I’ve ever toyed with before.
It’s an experiment, really...call it a minimalist work, perhaps. Anyway, you’ll
quickly catch on as to exactly what the style of the fic is. Don’t yell at me
for incomplete sentences, however. It’s supposed to be stylistic, not
grammatical. :P Gomen if you hate this style. Just thought I’d try something
new. :) This also isn’t a big plot piece--it’s more on characterization and
just general conversation and interaction. It’s a nice break for me, anyway.
:):)
---
“Into the Rain”
by Ryuen
~ ~ ~
“Ne, Miaka...”
“Hmm?”
“Do you believe in soul mates?”
“Hai. Tamahome and I are soul mates.”
“Do you...do you think I have one?”
“Ne, I don’t know... I’d like to think everybody has one.”
“Even me?”
“Hai. Maybe especially you.”
“Demo...Hotohori-sama will never love me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Hai, I do. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Miaka. He’ll love you and only
you until the day he dies.”
“But, I love Tamahome.”
“I know. And, so does Hotohori-sama...but, he loves you,anyway. He’s stubborn
like that.”
“Maybe he’ll love you someday, Nuriko.”
“Iie. I’m a man. No matter what I do...I can never change that. And, so...I’ll
never have Hotohori-sama’s love. But, that’s all right, I think. I’ve come to
accept it by now.”
“Ne, Nuriko, don’t talk like that! You sound like you’ve given up all hope.”
“Hm. Maybe I have. Demo, let’s not talk about this anymore, ne?”
“Un...okay. What do you wanna talk about, then?”
“Hm, I don’t know. Wanna go see if anything good’s on TV?”
“Nah, it’s too late. Just infomercials.”
“Okay, okay. Uh...wanna go make a snack?”
“Hai!!”
“Hehe. How did I know you were gonna like that idea?”
“Ne, Nuriko! Will you make me one of those--”
“I’ll make you anything you want, Miaka. Demo, leave some for me this time, ne?
Just a few bites.”
“Oh....un. I’ll try.”
“I guess that’s all I can ask for.”
---
Side by side. Thick, silken violet hair, plaited into a tight, carefully-weaved
braid, dangling down a slim back. Light, fluffed reddish-brown hair, hanging
free and loose over thin shoulders, tangled but fluid...thick but soft.
Brushing elbows, rising laughter...smiles. The rich, thick aroma of brewing
coffee, the lighter, softer scent of scrambling eggs...the sizzle of butter,
the gurgle of boiling water, the tang of frying peppers. A small, clean
kitchen--not cramped, not expansive...just right. Tile floor--yellow, white,
yellow, white...a row of mahogany cabinets, a sequence of jangling drawers...a
small table, three chairs, a vase of slender, crimson-kissed roses--the gifts
of a soul mate.
In the distance...snarling, boyish snores, the hum of passing cars, the low,
tittering murmur of the television...the far-off rumble of thunder. Soft,
pattering drops of rain, skittering down the midnight glass, washing a clean
hand over the moist, grass-covered earth.
Laughter, rising with the steam of bubbling water.
~~~
“Oi, whaddya think of this one, ‘Chiri?”
“Ano...it’s nice no da...demo--”
“@#*($&$ great! Oi, neechan! Wrap it up, huh?”
“Ano...Tasuki...”
“What the @#($*&$ is it, Chiri? C’mon, I gotta get this paid for!”
“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea na no da.”
“Huh? What the @#(*$& you talkin’ about? ‘Course it’s a good idea!”
“Demo, Miaka loves Tamahome very much no da.”
“I know, I know. An’ I’m not tryin’ to take her away from him...I’m just givin’
her a little present. See the difference?”
“H-Hai no da. Demo--”
“No buts! Here, hold onto my bag for a sec. Be right back after I pay for
this.”
“Hai...”
---
Cool, smooth porcelain...powdery white...a small, chiseled child’s face--pert
nose, smiling lips, widened eyes--curled, painted hair. Tinkles of light
melody, a twirling pedastol...a mass of silken paper--violet, blue, ivory. Deft
hands, swirling the paper--twisting, bending, folding, taping...releasing. A
wad of bills, a sweaty hand...a nervous bead of sweat, sizzling into a widened,
nervous eye. And the silent observer, hugging the heavy denim bag to his chest,
watching...waiting.
~~~
“I love her.”
“I...I know. I’m sorry, Hotohori-sama.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s fault but my own. I was foolish to think I
could ever have her love.”
“Isn’t there anyone else you’re interested in, Hotohori-sama? There must be
someone...”
“Iie. I love Miaka...will always love Miaka. There’s no room for any other
woman.”
“I understand, Hotohori-sama...but... Gomen, but she doesn’t love you. She’s
happy where she is. Maybe you should...think about trying to get over her.”
“Get over Miaka? I’ve never loved anyone else. I wouldn’t know how to.”
“Go out on a date. Have fun. Even if you still love Miaka...maybe you can find
someone else to love, too.”
“I’ve already given all of my heart to her. I have nothing left to give,
Tamahome.”
“I’m sorry, Hotohori-sama. I wish I could help you...ne, why don’t you talk to
Nuriko about it?”
“Nuriko? Why?”
“Because he-- He’s been through it, too. Loving someone...and having them not
love him back.”
“Honto ni? I didn’t realize. Hm. Perhaps I will talk to him about this.”
“Maybe you should.”
---
Bright, liquid amber, masked by the flickering cover of soft eyelids, gazing
through a pane of rain-streaked glass...longing. Praying. Sighing. Silken ribbons
of wavering chestnut, washing over broad shoulders, trailing over bronzed skin.
And, the silent observer, leaning lightly against the wall, straining to
understand an anguish not his own.
~~~
“Ne, Miaka...you really aren’t supposed to eat it that fast.”
“Hmm? Nani?”
“Never mind. Too late.”
“Ne, Nuriko! That was really good!”
“Secret family recipe. Been in my family for hundreds of years.”
“Honto??”
“Iie. Got it out of one of your mom’s cookbooks.”
“Ne, Nuriko...”
“Hm?”
“What you said about...about soul mates...”
“Hai?”
“Do you think Tamahome and I really _are_ soul mates?”
“Of course you are, baka. Don’t ask stupid questions.”
“Demo...what if he gets bored of me in a few years, or...or, what if he starts
to think I’m annoying or something, or...”
“Miaka. Tamahome loves you. He will _always_ love you.”
“D-Demo...what if he finds another girl he loves even more?”
“This really bothers you, doesn’t it?”
“Hai...how can you tell?”
“You’re not eating and there’s still food on your plate.”
“Oh...hai... I don’t know. I just really worry about...well, about losing him.”
“I know you do. We all worry about losing the people we love, Miaka. Even me.”
“You?”
“Hai. After Korin died...it was hard to let myself love people again. And, now
that I have you, Tamahome, Tasuki, Hotohori-sama...I’m always worried about
losing you...but, I don’t let it bother me, Miaka. You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because if you live your life worrying over losing what you have, then you’ve
already lost it. You can’t be happy when you’re worrying like that--and you
can’t love to the fullest if you’re guarding yourself, either. So, you just
have to be strong, love as much as you can...and hope that, when the day comes
that you lose something, you’re strong enough to get through it.”
“And, if you’re not?”
“Then, you pray you have good friends who’ll stay with you and make everything
better. Like you did for me a long time ago, Miaka. Like Hotohori-sama did for
you when you had the flu a few years ago. Like Tamahome does for you all the
time. You get through losing someone by letting yourself depend on the other
people you love. If you can’t be strong on your own...then you have to be
strong with other people.”
“Demo...what if you don’t have anyone??”
“Miaka, you’ll never not have anyone. Too many people love you.”
“Tamahome loves me, and Hotohori-sama...but--”
“No. That’s not what I mean. I don’t mean romantic love, even though that’s
important, too. I mean friendship love. I love you, Miaka. Tasuki loves you,
Chichiri loves you, Mitsukake, Chiriko...all of us love you very much...and
we’ll be there for you. If you’re hurting...we’ll help you through it. So,
don’t worry about it, ne?”
“N...Nuriko...I...”
“Maaaaattaku... You cry too easily, Miaka...”
“G-Gomen...but...arrigato, Nuriko. I-I’m very lucky...to have you all.”
“Hai, you are. Now, wipe those tears off your face and finish your eggs. You’re
starting to worry me.”
“Hai...I’ll eat them. Demo...”
“Hm?”
“I...I love you, Nuriko.”
“Hai, hai...I know. I love you, too.”
“You do?”
“Of course, baka.”
“Nuriko?”
“Hai?”
“You make great eggs.”
“Arrigato. I’ve had lots of practice.”
“Nuriko?”
“Haaaai?”
“Do you ever think about your sister anymore?”
“Sometimes. Not as much as I used to, though.”
“Do you think maybe she’s looking down on you now?”
“Maybe. I’d like to think she is. Ne...I bet you two would’ve been good friends
if she’d lived.”
“Honto? You think so?”
“Hai. Definitely.”
“Ne, Nuriko?”
“Haaaaaai?”
“Can I have the rest of your eggs?”
“Gaaaah. Fine, fine--if you really want them...here.”
“Arrigato.”
“Miaka?”
“Hai?”
“You’re really a glutton, you know.”
“Hmm?”
“Hai. And clumsy...and stupid. But, you know what? There’s something special
about you, too. Something...something that makes people love you. I don’t know.
I don’t know what it is...but you have it. And,so, there’ll always be people
who love you, Miaka...and there’ll always be people who’d be willing to do just
about anything for you, too.”
“Anything?”
“Hai. Anything.”
“W-Would you do...do _anything_ for me, Nuriko?”
“Hm...I think so. Demo, let’s not find out, ne?”
“Un...okay. Ne...Nuriko?”
“Nani?”
“I bet you’ll find your soul mate someday soon.”
“Oh, you think so?”
“Hai. Definitely.”
---
Soft, gentle smiles...slim hands folded lightly over the tabletop--long,
slender fingers, well-polished and manicured nails--small hands...but, strong
hands. Capable hands. Loving, gentle hands. Wisps of violet hair, circling a
face awash with light and contentment, dangling over loose, satiny fabric,
brushing against pale, smooth skin. Smiles. Laughter. A wash of frothy milk, a
mouthful of buttery, fluffed eggs...another smile. Outside, the chirp of
bathing birds, the light drum of rain against the roof. Still the snores, still
the television...still the peace.
Warm, pleasant smiles. Contentment and peace.
Final...final peace.
~~~
“Oi, Chichiri...”
“Nani no da?”
“Do ya think....do ya think Miaka might get tired a’ Tama sometime soon?”
“Tasuki...”
“I mean, hell, not like I want her or something. Kehhh. Not _me_ for
@(#*$&$’s sake. I was just...ya know, wonderin’. Ya think maybe she’ll get
sick a’ him sometime soon?”
“Tasuki...Miaka loves Tamahome very deeply no da. After all they’ve been
through...gomen...but, I don’t think she’s going to give him up so easily na no
da.”
“Keh. She’s pretty damned stupid, isn’t she, ‘Chiri?”
“...hai.”
“Guess I’m pretty dumb, too, gettin’ her this stupid thing. @#(*&, it ain’t
like she’s gonna like it or somethin’. Don’t know what I was thinkin’.”
“I think...I think she’ll like it no da.”
“Eh, ya think so? Huh. Maybe. So, ya think I oughta give it to her, anyway? Ya
know...just so I don’t have to hang onto it anymore?”
“Hai. I’m sure Miaka will like it no da.”
“Ne, Chichiri?”
“Hai?”
“You give it to her, huh? I got someplace I gotta go.”
“At this hour no da?”
“Yeah, sure...no point hangin’ onto that thing longer than ya have to, ya know?
Just drop it by her place on your way home, k? Ya don’t have to tell her it’s
from me, either...just give it to her, see if she likes it, ya know. Not that I
@*#$&@$ care what she thinks of it, o’course. But...ya know. Just to see.”
“Hai. Demo...are you sure she’ll be awake na no da?”
“Yeah. She and Nuriko’re havin’ another one o’their damn sleepovers. She’ll be
up, an’ prob’ley eatin’, too, if I know Miaka...”
“Okay no da. I’ll drop it by after I let you off.”
“Nah, that’s okay. I think I’m just gonna walk home.”
“In the rain no da?”
“Yeah. See ya later, Chichiri.”
“Bye...Tasuki.”
---
Lone, flame-haired figure, melting into the darkness. Bent head, darkened
eyes...slow, dragging steps. Drenched, flattened hair, chilled streams
slithering over smooth, tanned skin...soaking into dark fabric, sticking tight
against muscled flesh. And, the blue-haired observer, leaning against a car
door, a tightly-wrapped missive of misguided longing trapped in his slim
fingers, being painted slowly by the tumbling rain.
~~~
“Ne...Hotohori-sama...”
“Hai?”
“Why don’t you call him?”
“What?”
“Nuriko. He’s over at Miaka’s. Why don’t you call him?”
“Call him? Why?”
“I dunno. Just...I don’t know. It might make you feel better...”
“Why is he at Miaka’s?”
“Oh, you know...they’ve been having these damned sleepovers since they were
little. Kind of like a tradition.”
“Miaka’s mother doesn’t object?”
“To having Nuriko sleep over? Heh. No way. She knows he’s...well, safe to have
around Miaka. Besides...she was friends with his parents, I think...she likes
him.”
“Does she like you, Tamahome?”
“Uhh...it’s hard to tell...”
“Hm. She despises you, doesn’t she?”
“I wouldn’t say ‘despiiiiiiises...’ I’m not her favorite person...but...
Anyway, that’s completely off the subject. Come on, Hotohori-sama...the phone’s
right over there...”
“Why do you keep insisting I talk to Nuriko?”
“I told you already. He’s gone through this, too. I bet he could help you...a
hell of a lot better than I can, anyway.”
“No one exists on this earth who could help me through this, Tamahome.”
“Naaaa, Hotohori-sama, don’t be so melodramatic. C’mon, give him a call.
Besides, you know he always cheers you up...”
“Hai, he does...but, I’m not in the mood to be cheered up right now.”
“Ahh, you’d rather wallow and look out at the rain, huh? Well, too bad.”
“Tamahome, put down the phone. Tamahome! Damn it, I told you--I don’t want to
talk to anyone right now...particularly not anyone staying in Miaka’s house.”
“Hai, hai, Hotohori-sama... Ah, moshi-moshi...Miaka! Ne, I’ve got Hotohori-sama
here to talk to Nuriko...hai. Hai, I’ll wait.”
“Tamahome! Iie, I told you--”
“Shh, Hotohori-sama. She’s getting him.”
“Tamahome, I don’t want t--don’t give me the pho--! Hello, Nuriko. Hai. Hai,
I’m fine...”
---
Slim, imperial fingers, cradling the soft, malleable plastic, pressing the
warmed side to an ear...smiling. Tentative, reluctant laughter...relaxing
shoulders, soothed muscles, a gentle, rising smile...a laugh, a flicker of
geniune mirth...the first soft, smoothing touch of healing. And, a slim figure,
slipping out into the darkness...into the rain.
~owari~