MishMutou

[themocaw]

Originally posted anonymously to KSG

-----
"Please comfort me, Hicchan. Just for today."

The words come out of my mouth before I know what I'm saying. They hang in the air between me and Hisao like the flakes in a snow globe.

He looks at me in stunned silence, his mouth opening and closing.

I can't stand it. I throw myself into his arms, pushing him onto the bed.

I want these hands that have touched my Shicchan to touch me. I don't want to be alone any more.

I want. . .

I want some closeness. Some kind of tenderness in my life. I want to be loved.

Is that so bad?

Hisao's eyes widen in surprise, then narrow in determination. He pushes me off roughly, and I fall onto his bed. The feel of the springs bouncing underneath me is like a bucket of cold water to the face.

Hot tears well up behind my eyes as I lay on his bed.

I don't think I've ever hated myself more than I have at this moment.

"You're right, Hiccan. I'm sorry."

Hisao lies on the bed next to me. He closes his eyes and breathes out a sigh of relief. "Don't be."

"No, Hicchan~. It's okay. I am really really really~." I laugh hollowly. "Just. . . I think just asking was enough for me. I'm happier that you said no."

That much is the truth.

Hisao and I make our awkward goodbyes, and I leave the room, closing the door behind me.

-----

I wish I was never born.

I wish I had never come to Yamaku.

I wish I'd never fallen in love with my best friend.

I wish I'd never been so weak as to try and find comfort in the arms of my best friend's lover.

I wish. . .

-----

"Mikado?"

The deep baritone voice breaks through my shell of self-loathing as I wander aimlessly away from the boys' dorms.

Professor Mutou is standing in the middle of the quad, his briefcase in one hand, the other hand resting in his pocket.

"Mikado, are you all right?"

"Y. . . yes, I'm fine," I hear myself say.

Mutou doesn't reply. He just walks over to me.

One rough hand reaches to my face and brushes a tear off my cheek.

"Are you sure?"

For the second time tonight, I throw myself into the arms of a man. I bury my face in Mutou's chest and cry.

Warm arms wrap around my shoulders. Professor Mutou says nothing, just rests his hands on me and lets me hold him close and cry my heart out. The tears flow hot and hard as I stifle my sobs against his long jacket.

Pain and sorrow fade into a dull, stony ache settling just under my heart. Miserable with self-loathing, I sag against the tall man, eyes closed, almost unable to stand.

"I'm sorry."

Mutou rests his hand against my head and gives me a friendly pet, like a master stroking a favorite dog.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes," I whisper.

Mutou nods and takes my hand. He leads me across the quad to the parking lot. He lets me into his car, and we drive into town.

-----

His car smells clean but not particularly nice. There is the lingering scent of too many fast-food meals eaten on the go, too many long nights spent driving alone with a cigarette in one hand and the other on the wheel.

He drives us to the Shanghai, where we find a booth and sit down across from each other. As usual, the teashop is quiet tonight.

I'm grateful for one thing. This isn't one of Yuuko's nights. I don't think I could stomach dealing with her on top of all this.

The manager, an older man with grey hair, comes out from behind the counter and stands silently by our table. "The usual for me," Mutou says. "Mikado?"

". . . just tea."

The manager nods to us and goes back into the kitchen to take our orders. Mutou leans back in his chair and regards me carefully, as if I were a particularly interesting particle colliding with another one in a laboratory accelerator. "Something happened today?" he asks.

"Yes." My voice feels small and weak. The words vanish in the air between us. "Shicchan and Hicchan. . . Shizune and Hisao. They're dating."

"Yes, I know," Mutou says patiently. "And you don't approve?"

I hug my arms around my waist tightly. "He's good for her. Hisao is a good guy. He'll treat her right. And Shizune. . . she loves him too, even though she's too stubborn to show it."

"But?"

"But. . . I used to think that if Shizune was happy, it's all I would ever want. But now she's happy, and all it does is make me feel horrible."

"Because she isn't happy with you."

"Yeah," I whisper. Another word lost in the still air of the Shanghai.

The manager returns to our table with our drinks orders. Mutou pours cream and sugar into his coffee and looks into the caramel-brown liquid, steaming hot in the plain white mug.

"If human beings were logical creatures, we would never feel pain," Mutou says. "There are philosophers and scientists who have believed that all of the world's problems could be solved if we could only teach human beings to be logical. History is filled with examples of men who have tried and failed. The truth is, human beings are creatures of both logic and emotion, mind and heart. Despite the best efforts of scientists and philosophers, human emotion still rules over logic far too often." He takes a sip of his coffee. "In the end, I suppose it's what makes us mortal beings, and not gods."

"I don't want to be mortal," I say, curling up and holding myself tightly. "I just. . . I want these feelings to go away. I want them to vanish." My hands close tightly around my teacup. "I'd do anything to make them vanish. . ."

"They don't do that," Mutou says. "Despite your best efforts. . . emotions stay." He reaches a hand out and covers my own with his large, rough hand. I let go of my cup and clasp his fingers in mine. The human contact feels warm and comforting.

"I feel so ashamed. I did something terrible tonight. . . I tried to, at least. I tried as hard as I could, but I didn't succeed, and when I failed, I was happy. I don't know what I would have done if I had succeeded."

"Emotions are like that," Mutou agrees. "There are things that I feel that I am ashamed of as well."

I look up into his eyes. His hand closes tightly around mine.

"There's nothing you can do that will make those emotions go away," he says, "and sometimes, the heart will overrule the head and you'll do something you'll regret. In those times. . . you need to learn to forgive yourself. To stop punishing yourself for the sins you have committed." His hand squeezes tightly around mine, then lets go. "It's not easy. I won't pretend it is. But time and distance help."

We finish our drinks together without saying anything more.

-----

We get back into Mutou's car, and he starts up the engine, as behind us, the lights of the Shanghai turn off. He's pulling out of the parking lot and about to turn back up towards Yamaku when I feel a sudden rush of fear rise in my heart.

I don't want to go back there. Not tonight. I don't want to know what Hicchan told Shizune. I don't want to see their faces tonight. I can't bear to face them.

"I don't want to go back," I blurt out. "Can't I. . ."

Mutou's mouth sets in a grim line. "Mikado, I. . ."

"Please. I don't want to go back to my dorm room tonight."

Mutou's hands clench around the steering wheel and he closes his eyes. "All right," he says calmly. "Do you have any family in town? Any friends?"

"No. . ."

"I can put you up in a hotel room."

The thought of spending a night alone in a strange room is even scarier to me. I shake my head. "Please. . . no. No, I'm. . . I don't want to be alone. . ."

Mutou's knuckles are white as he grips the steering wheel tightly. He inhales and lets the breath out in a slow, ragged sigh. "Very well," he says.

He turns his car away from Yamaku, and we drive into town.

-----

The apartment building is two stories tall. Mutou walks up the stairs to the second story and opens up the second door.

The apartment itself is small. There is a kitchen and a living room with a couch and a television. Several empty beer cans sit on a coffee table with some scientific journals strewn here and there. A large box of instant ramen noodles on top of the refrigerator.

There is very little decoration, very few touches of home. This is a sparse, spartan place, meant only as a place to sleep and occasionally eat a light meal or drink a beer in front of a television.

"You can use the bed," Mutou says. "I'll sleep on the couch. The door locks, so you don't have anything to worry about."

"All right," I say timidly.

He lets me use his bathroom and loans me a toothbrush to brush my teeth, and one of his shirts to sleep in. I hang up my school uniform on the back of a chair and sit on the bed for a long time, listening to the television in the living room playing some late-night comedy show.

There is a crack in the plaster of the ceiling that goes across one corner. I stare at it for a long time. I feel cold.

I want to feel warm again.

I don't know what impulse of mine brings me to my feet, or unlocks the bedroom door, or walks out into the living room. The only light comes from the television set, as Mutou lays on his couch in a t-shirt and his boxer shorts, watching the television with detached disinterest.

He sits up as he sees me enter the living room. Any words he's about to speak are taken away as I unbutton the borrowed shirt and let it slip off my shoulders, leaving me in my underwear.

"Mikado. . ."

His mouth opens and closes a few times. His expression is filled with the same kind of familiar self-loathing I've seen in the mirror too often.

"Mikado, this isn't. . . it's not wise," he says.

But his eyes are on my body.

I sit in his lap, stradding him, and reach up to touch his stubbled face. Mutou closes his eyes at my touch, and he trembles with fear. . . and longing.

"It's been a long time since I last did this," he says. "I wouldn't be a good first time for you."

"I've never done this before," I admit. "Never with a man. I don't. . ."

"Mikado," Mutou says again. He reaches for the blanket and wraps it around my shoulders. "I wouldn't be a good teacher. . . or a good man. . . if I let you do this."

His hands rest on my cheeks, and he kisses me on the forehead.

"When you're not my student any more. . . and you're certain you want to do this. . . then come and see me again," he says. "I'll do it right and proper for you, the way a wonderful girl like you deserves. But like this? Right now? You'll regret it later. I won't let you live your life with a regret like that in your past. And I won't let myself regret being the one who did that to you."

My eyes close and hot tears run down my face. "I. . . I feel. . . I'm just so lonely," I sob. "I don't. . . I don't want to feel like this. . ."

Mutou wraps his arms around me and holds me close under the blanket. "Then you can stay with me," he says. "I'll keep the loneliness away."

Once again I sob my heart out to him, soaking the thin t-shirt that is all that separates his narrow, gaunt frame from me. He holds me until I fall asleep: a gentle, caring embrace, like that of a father or a lover.

When I wake up, I'm still in his arms.

-----

"We need to leave early," Mutou says, as he straightens his tie in the mirror. "I'll drop you off at the bus stop in town, and you can take the bus in. That way, we don't get seen coming to school together."

"I wouldn't mind," I say.

"I would. High school girls don't have much. Your reputation is something I don't want you to lose."

"All right."

Mutou puts on his dark brown sport coat, and we walk out of his apartment together in the cold pre-dawn grey light. The chill of the morning makes my breath fog up before me.

"Professor Mutou?"

"Yes?" he asks.

"Did you mean what you said last night? About if. . . if I'm not your student. . ."

"But you are."

"Yes. But when I'm not. . .?"

Mutou sighs, and that look of self-loathing returns to his eyes.

"We all have our sins, Shiina," he says. "Mine is a sin of the heart. I've never acted on it. . . but it's a sin nonetheless."

And he leans down and kisses me on the mouth.

He tastes like cigarettes and stale beer, but his lips are soft and his hands against my face are warm and kind. My breath catches in my chest as I close my eyes, feeling my soul become lost in his touch.

As we pull away, and before we walk down to his car and drive back to the school, he leans forward and whispers something into my ear.

"Remember," Akio Mutou says. "You're never alone."

-----

Epilogue:

-----

"Can you stop throwing your pencil please?" Mutou says. "How do you even throw a pencil that loudly?"

"I'm not throwing it~, when I get nervous, I like to spin it around, but~ then I forget I'm holding it and--"

"It doesn't matter," he interrupts. "There shouldn't be pencils flying around. I get enough of that during regular school hours. I don't need it after hours."

"R-right. Sorry."

"Whatever. Just stop throwing, or releasing, or dropping things, please," Mutou sighs. He opens up his newspaper and scans the next line. "Teachers have work, too."

"But you promised me that you'd help me with my science classes!" I point out. "I need this grade to get my GPA up!"

"In that case, will you please sit down and calm down?" Mutou says, frustrated. "You ask me for these supplementary lessons, but we spend so much time arguing over useless nonsense before we even get started."

Neither of us have talked about that night we spent together in his apartment. It's a silent agreement. That Night never gets mentioned between us. There's too much emotion bound up in it, too much taboo. Too many words left unspoken.

"You know~," I say, as I twirl my pencil between my fingertips. "In a couple of months I won't be your student any more."

"Yes," Mutou points out. "But until then I am still your teacher, and you are going to do these supplementary lessons, or I won't give you any extra credit."

"Can't I earn extra credit some other way?" I ask, licking my lips in what I hope is a seductive manner.

"Do the lessons, Mikado," Mutou says sternly. "And hurry up so that I can go home."

"So if I don't do the lessons, you don't go home~?" I giggle. "So what if I decide not to do any of them?"

"Then I guess we stay here all night," Mutou says harshly.

I giggle again, and Mutou shakes his head irritably. I like seeing this side of him. He's always so deadpan most of the time, that seeing him flustered or irritated is fun. I like seeing that Akio Mutou has an emotional side to him. Especially if I'm the only one who gets to see it.

"You know~," I say, as I ponder the next question, twirling my pencil between my fingertips. "There are terrible violations of the school code going on right~ now?"

"Oh?"

"Yeaaaaah~!" I say, smirking. "Shicchan and Hicchan are screwing like bunnies in the student council room~!"

"Interesting," Mutou says, deadpan, turning to the next page in his newspaper. "And how do you know this? Have you developed psychic powers?"

"Nope~! Shicchan told me that was her plan this morning! She and Hicchan never~ get to spend time alone together, so she was like. . . 'Misha, be sure to leave early so that Hisao and I can have some private time together~!'" I drop my voice down about half an octave to give Shicchan a bossy-sounding voice. I don't think that's what her real voice would sound like, but it works for my purposes.

"Well," Mutou says. "It's good of you to tell me this, but as long as I don't directly observe it myself, then I honestly don't feel the need to take action on this matter."

"So you don't need to do anything about it if you don't see it yourself~?"

"Out of sight, out of mind." Mutou glares at me over the top of his newspaper. "Well? Are you going to redo that test, or aren't you?"

"Fiiiiiine~!" I sigh. "But you should know that you're wasting a perfect opportunity to violate the school code with me~!"

"You realize, the longer you do this, the longer it's going to take you to finish your extra credit assignment, right?"

I stick my tongue out at him and take a seat at my desk. "What if I need help?"

"I'm right here. Just ask me."

I giggle a bit as I head back to my seat and start to read the assignment. Mutou sighs and turns to the next page in his newspaper.

One of these days, I know, we'll do more than this. Waiting for that day is almost more than I can bear.

I want some closeness. Some kind of tenderness in my life. I want to be loved.

Is that so bad?

[themocaw]

It's the one day out of the year that the Shanghai is actually packed. Graduation day: the day when all the graduating seniors take their parents, friends, and family to the teahouse for one last party. The entire place is full of students, adults, and family: enjoying their food, enjoying their tea, enjoying their time together.

Jigoro and Hideaki are there, for Shicchan.

Hicchan's parents are there, for him.

There's no one here for me.

I sigh unhappily as I toy with the placards for Atsuko and Reiji Mikado. It doesn't come as a surprise. I knew they weren't going to be coming since two days ago, when I got the text message from my parents saying that something had come up and they weren't going to make it.

It still hurts. I thought my parents would care enough to at least make it here for this, of all things.

I watch Hicchan introducing Shicchan to his parents. They're giving Jigoro a wide berth. For once, though, the big man is actually kind of well behaved. I guess Shicchan must have read him the riot act over what would happen if he messed up this moment for her.

I know any moment now, Shicchan is going to look for me and try to get me involved. It's nice of her to think of me, but to be honest, I really don't want to be involved in any of this right now. I don't want to feel happier.

I quietly slip out of the Shanghai, past a couple of students, and out onto the street.

----

The hills to the west are ablaze with scarlet hues as I lean against the wall and stare out into the sunset. I've been doing that a lot lately.

I like the sunset. It makes me feel better then I'm sad. Especially when it's as beautiful as it is right now.

"It's nothing but light waves scattering off of clouds and dust in the atmosphere, you know," a gravelly voice says from next to me. "Really nothing more than an illusion."

I turn, and I can't help but smile as I see Akio Mutou standing next to me, leaning against the wall of the Shanghai as he smokes a cigarette. "They won't let me smoke in there," he explains. "I had to come out here to do it."

"Can I have one~?" I ask.

"It's not a good idea, you know. It's a bad habit to get into. A disgusting one. As your teacher, I'm honor bound to officially discourage you from starting it." He grinds his cigarette butt under his heel and takes a fresh one from his packet. "Thankfully," he says, "I'm not your teacher any more. You graduated this morning."

He puts the cigarette in his mouth and lights it with a silver Zippo, then passes it to me. I take it from him and put the filtered end between my lips, taking a small puff. I think I can still almost taste his lips on the dry paper: an indirect kiss from my former teacher. "Take it slow," he says. "Take puffs first. Don't inhale it into your lungs all at once, or you'll end up coughing a lot and feeling terrible."

"All right~." I take another small puff of the cigarette and blow some of the fragrant, acrid smoke into the air. It makes a small cloud in front of me before dissipating like dreams in wind.

"I'm not good with social situations," Akio says, his hands in his pockets. "I do my best, but. . . I'm not good at talking to these parents. That's why I get it over with as soon as possible so I can come out here and relax a bit." He rubs his hand over his stubbled jaw. "I should go back in there and start talking some more, though. Parents seem to want to talk with their child's teacher a lot. I guess that's what comes of being a boarding school. You can't exactly have regular home visits."

"Parents. Yeah~. At least, most parents do~." I take another puff of the cigarette and blow it slowly out into the darkening night sky. "I wish mine did~."

"I heard. I'm sorry," Akio says.

I take another puff of the cigarette. Some of the smoke gets into my lungs, making me cough a bit. Akio waits patiently for me to finish before offering me a handkerchief. I wave him off and sigh.

"What are your plans?" he asks.

"I'm going to move out of the dorms tonight~ and take the red-eye train back home~." I explain. "I'll sleep on the train ride over~."

Akio nods. . . then he hesitates and takes a deep breath. "If I were your teacher, I'd tell you that what I'm about to suggest to you is a terrible idea. But I'm not your teacher, so. . . I suppose it doesn't matter." He looks over at me, and his dark eyes in his lined face are full of trepidation and a measure of longing. "If your parents aren't expecting you back. . . you could spend the night here."

"With you~?"

"With me," Akio agrees.

I nod and smile. "I'd like~ that."

Akio nods back, then reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a pair of keys on a blue plastic keychain. "If you want to go ahead. . . here's a set of keys for my apartment," he says. "You can go over any time you like. I'm going to be here for a few more hours, talking with parents."

"Okay~." I accept the keys from him, brushing my hand against his fingertips in the process.

Akio nods back to me, then walks back into the Shanghai, his shoulders stooped as if with a great weight. I twirl the keys around one finger then put them into my skirt pocket.

Part of me wants to go back into the Shanghai and chat with Shicchan and Hicchan some more. But another part of me thinks that it wouldn't be a good idea. The three of us have already said our goodbyes. Now it's time for Shicchan and Hicchan's families to meet each other and get to know each other. They don't need a third wheel like me hanging around.

I turn back towards Yamaku and begin walking back up the hill.

-----

There's not much left in my dorm room by the time I'm done packing. All of the furniture belongs to the school, and I've given away most of my text books and desk supplies to various underclassmen. Everything I want to take away from this place resides inside two large suitcases, sitting inside my room.

I walk into the place that's been my home for the past three years, and a profound sense of sadness fills my heart.

One chapter, one very important chapter of my life, took place here. And now it's over.

Time to move on.

I feel a sudden urge. A need to leave something more here than just an empty room devoid of life. . . devoid of me. I feel like. . . I need to leave something more of me behind.

I take the keys from my skirt pocket and go to the desk. Opening one of the desk drawers, I scratch four words into the soft wood at the bottom of the drawer.

SHIINA MIKADO WAS HERE

Probably in a few years, this desk will be thrown away, and left to rot in a landfill. But, at the very least, the next person to use this room will read this. . . and they'll know that this was where I grew up.

This is where I found my place in life and my purpose for existing.

I leave the dorm room feeling as if a great weight has been lifted from me and leave Yamaku High School as a student for the very last time.

-----

It's about an hour's bus trip down from Yamaku into the city. Another fifteen minute's walk to Akio's apartment. I spend the time lost in thought, reminiscing about my years at the school on top of the hill.

They're not all happy memories. But they're good ones. Even the painful ones, now that I've got a little distance from them. . . I would never trade for anything else. The memories and love that surrounds that place is far too precious to me.

Love.

Is that what I feel for Akio?

It doesn't feel anything like what I felt for Shicchan. With Shicchan, it was longing, even a sense of awe. She's always been so dynamic, so filled with energy, so confident. I wanted a piece of that. I wanted some of her strength. I wanted it to be with me forever.

With Akio. . . there's none of that. There's almost a sense of melancholy. There is none of the worship I felt for Shicchan. Just a profound sense of loneliness. A feeling that I have found a fellow soulmate in this experience of loneliness known as life.

There is a closeness here. And a kind of tenderness. I don't know if I can call that love, though.

The apartment is silent and dark as I unlock the door and walk inside. It looks much as I remember it from the last time I was here, on that exciting, terrifying night when we nearly broke all the taboos and barriers between us. A little cleaner, maybe. A little tidier. Still much the same.

I put my bags aside and look around the stark, empty kitchen.

An idea enters my mind.

It's not much more than a ten minute walk down to a small grocery store I walked past on my way here. I don't have much money in my wallet, but I have a little. Certainly enough to buy enough for a small meal for two.

Akio doesn't own an apron, but I still have mine from home ec class. I take it out of my suitcase and put it on after I put the groceries out on the counter.

The door opens just as the rice has finished cooking, and the soup finished its long simmer. Akio walks into the room looking weary and exhausted. He looks a bit confused at the savory smells and unusual sounds coming from his apartment, but he seems to understand when he sees that I've set the table.

"I thought I might cook you some dinner~," I explain. "As a gesture of thanks~."

"Thank you," Akio says.

"It's not much~. Just rice and a little~ teriyaki salmon. I was~ going to start the fish when you came in so it doesn't overcook~."

"That's fine," he says. "I don't have very fancy tastes in food anyway."

I nod back and put the fish on the griddle to cook. Akio watches me the whole time.

-----

Dinner is eaten in silence. A quiet affair, broken only by the sound of chopsticks moving, and a few soft requests to pass one thing or another, or a small, hesitant compliment about the quality of the food from Akio.

Neither of us say much more than that. I guess we're both a bit nervous about what we know is coming next.

It's as we finish our meals, and I'm getting up to do the dishes, that Akio stops me. "Let's leave the washing up for later," he says. "Would you like to take a shower?"

I nod silently to him. "Yes," I whisper, my mouth suddenly dry with nervousness. "Yes, I would."

"Would you like to take one together?" Akio asks hesitantly.

"Yes," I repeat. "I would."

-----

I'm standing in his shower, between the three white-tiled walls, my head thrown back, looking up into the stream of water pouring down on me.

Akio soaps up a washcloth and runs it over my body, washing me clean. I shiver at the touch of his hands over my breasts. . . my stomach. . . my thighs. . . between my legs.

He kisses me on the back of the neck as we rinse ourselves.

I kiss him on the lips as we finish drying each other off.

-----

Lying in bed together.

Our hands are intertwined, fingers interlaced.

I throw back my head and gasp with every thrust of his body into me.

For this moment, at least, in this place, I am not alone.

-----

"Can I see you again?" he asks. "Before you leave for America?"

"I hope so~," I say, running my hand over his bare chest. "Their school year starts in the fall. . . so I have a few months free~."

"It's going to be hard to find the time," he says.

"We'll find a way~," I reply.

His reply is a kiss. I return it in kind.

We unentwine from our lazy embrace and begin making love once more.

-----

Dawn breaks over the east as Akio and I sit on the couch together, watching the sunrise through his patio door. We're naked except for the blanket wrapped around us both.

"It's just an illusion, huh~?" I ask, nodding to the blazing sunrise.

"That's right," Akio says. "Nothing more than an illusion created by the sunlight and dust."

"Dust and wind~," I whisper. "How can something made of nothing be so beautiful~?"

"One could say the same about life, I suppose."

[themocaw]

Standing under the clock tower, where Akio said we should meet. It's thirty minutes to our agreed-upon time.

I'm way too early.

I feel like a high school girl on her first date.

Up until a few months ago, that's what I was. . . and the man I'm waiting here to meet was my homeroom teacher, Akio Mutou.

How things change.

-----

Looking into the window of the department store. Studying my appearance with a critical eye.

It's not bad, I guess.

I've washed out my hair dye, and my hair is starting to grow back a bit from when I cut off my long curls. I almost look like I did my freshman year at Yamaku.

. . . no. That's not quite true.

I've gained some weight. I know that much. Not all of it bad. I don't like the weight I've gained around my waist and hips. I can't say I'm upset about the weight I gained around the bust area, though.

If I ever figure out how Shicchan manages to get all of her weight gain to settle in her chest like that, I'll write a self-help book and become a millionaire.

I sigh and turn away from the window.

It will have to do, I suppose.

-----

I almost don't recognize him walking up the steps towards me. Still tall. Still haggard and lean. But not as rumpled as I'm used to seeing him.

It's strange seeing Akio freshly shaven. Or with his hair combed. Or dressed in something other than his usual black tie and overcoat. That white polo shirt is actually kind of flattering on him, especially along with that dark brown blazer.

He nods and waves to me as he approaches the clock tower. "Shiina."

"Akio~."

We get a few odd looks as he offers me his arm and we walk away together. I suppose it might look a bit strange for a teenage girl barely out of high school to be walking arm in arm with a man twice as old as she is.

It's a good thing I'm used to loving people that the world tells me I can't.

-----

"Looking forward to America?" Akio asks, as he picks up his cup of coffee and takes a small sip.

I carefully arrange the last slice of kiwifruit on top of my big bowl of shaved ice, so that they form a perfect circle midway up my frozen confection. It's all going into my stomach soon, anyway, but there's no reason why it can't look good before it goes there, right?

"A little bit~," I admit to him, as I take my first spoonful of shaved ice: a carefully placed mixture of ice, syrup, fruit, and red beans. "I've been brushing up on my English a little bit. I'm a bit nervous, though~."

"Understandable. You're going to be travelling overseas for the first time in your life." Akio takes another small sip of his coffee. "I would be nervous in your shoes too."

"Tell me about what it was like for you~?" I ask.

"A deaf college in New York isn't anything like Cal Tech," Akio points out. "They're on the opposite sides of the country, remember? They're practically different worlds."

"Just tell me," I insist.

"Mmmmm. It was a fun time, I admit," Akio says, smiling. "Pasadena was a lovely city, although a bit old. The food was delicious, and the weather was wonderful. If that's one thing I miss about my time in California, it was the weather. No place on earth should have that kind of wonderful weather all year round. You could walk outside in the middle of winter wearing shorts if you wanted. On the other hand, if you wanted to get around, you needed a car. No subways or buses in California. You won't have that problem in New York, of course."

"Mmmmmmm." I take another bite of my shaved ice and sigh. "On the other hand, the weather won't be so nice, will it~?"

"Not in the winter, no. New York is kind of like Japan that way."

The conversation continues. Small topics only. Nothing too deep or too important.

Our time together's too precious to waste talking about important things.

-----

"Can we stop here? I want to buy something~."

"If you want. I'll wait outside. I want to smoke a cigarette."

"All right."

Akio waves to me and walks outside to stand next to the lamp post. He reaches into his jacket pocket and takes out his smokes.

I walk into the accessories store and browse around for a bit until I find what I'm looking for. They're more expensive than I'd like, but less expensive than I'd feared.

I have the girl behind the counter wrap them up for me and walk out of the store just as Akio finishes his cigarette.

"Ready?"

"Yeaaah~! Let's go."

Akio offers me his arm again, and we walk away together.

-----

"I'm sorry," Akio admits. "That. . . was not a good choice of a movie."

"It sucked~!" I admit cheerfully. "But I still had a fun time~!"

Akio sighs irritably, running a hand through his now-mussy hair. "The previews looked so promising, too. I suppose I should shake the hands of whoever directed the trailers. Right after I punch the writer in the face."

I laugh again, and Akio smiles back at me a bit wistfully.

"You know," he admits. "The first time you walked into my classroom and you did that. . . I winced. It was so loud."

"And noooow~?" I ask slyly.

"Still loud. Not so painful any more. One learns to adapt, I suppose."

I lean my head on his shoulder as we walk down the sidewalk together.

"You're such a romantic~."

"I'm a scientist. I deal in fact, not in illusions. Or false compliments."

"Mmmmm. Then what does the scientist have to say about this?"

I let go of his arm and skip a few steps ahead of him, then turn around quickly. I lean my head back a bit and close my eyes, standing up on my tip-toes to get a bit more height. Akio follows my lead perfectly, leaning down and giving me a gentle kiss on the mouth.

". . . my conclusion is that you ate dried squid at the movie theater tonight," Akio says, licking his lips contemplatively.

I give him a light punch on the arm as punishment for his unromantic nature.

-----

"They look like stars," I say, leaning against the railing of the hotel room balcony, looking out over the city.

"No," Akio says. "They're nothing like the stars. But they're lovely nonetheless, aren't they?"

He comes up behind me and puts his arms around my waist. I melt into him with a soft, contented sigh.

He lifts me in his arms like a princess and carries me to the big double bed, letting me fall onto the soft mattress.

-----

Looking up at him with a soft, silly smile as he undoes the front of my blouse.

Seeing his eyes close as I lower myself onto him.

Resting my head against his shoulder afterwards.

Drifting off to sleep when it's all done.

-----

"I'll walk you home," he says to me.

"I live on the other side of the city," I point out.

"I'll take a cab home. I want to make sure you get home safe."

I allow him this. I want it too.

The bright yellow spots of the lampposts mark our way home like breadcrumbs. Bright points of light in the darkness.

One block away from my home, Akio stops.

". . . was this a good idea?" he asks. "All of this. Was it. . . worth it? In the end?"

I have no idea.

We're a teenage lesbian and a forty year old high school science teacher. What business did we have being together?

None at all.

"Does it matter?" I ask. "If it was a bad idea, would it change anything?"

". . . no," Akio sighs. "It wouldn't."

He leans down and kisses me one last time. He enfolds me in his arms.

For one last time, I close my eyes and nestle myself in his warmth.

I feel. . . comfortable. Comforted.

I'm not alone any more.

"Have a wonderful time in America," Akio says, at long last. "Write me."

"I will," I promise.

His hand lingers in mine as we part. The last I see of him, he's walking down that darkened street, the light from the lampposts alternately illuminating, then shadowing him. Walking from morning to midnight then back to morning again.

Then he turns the corner and vanishes into darkness one last time.

I turn away from him and open the door to my home.

-----

Epilogue:

-----

I hadn't realized how many people there really were in our senior class. Ten years have changed some of them more than others.

One person hasn't changed too much, though. His hair is a bit greyer, and his face is a bit more lined. But aside from that. . . he's still got that same careless slouch, that same, slightly oddly rumpled sense of style. He says a few last words to a someone I don't know or can't recognize, nods to them as they walk away.

He turns to me, and our eyes meet for the first time in ten years.

"Misha."

"Mutou-Sensei."

"You look well. How have you been?"

"Pretty well. . ."

Polite, quiet conversation, just the sort of words that should be exchanged between a teacher and a former student. Everything very proper, very appropriate.

Any further conversation gets temporarily cut off as a man interrupts our conversation to ask Mutou something about the toast he'll be giving later tonight. Looking around the room, I see a familiar-looking girl walking in next to a messy-haired man, carrying a two-year old boy in her arms.

I turn to excuse myself to my old homeroom teacher. A flash of silver catches my eye, and the glib words I'd meant to say vanish from my mind.

The tie-pin he's wearing isn't a very fancy one. It's not very expensive. Ten years ago, it was all I could afford to buy him as a memento of the time we spent together.

It shines brightly against his charcoal-grey dress shirt, resting just over his heart.

And, just for one moment, I smile.

END.

[nemz]

I remember this from a while back, yeah. Didn't there used to be a blowjob somewhere in the middle though, as part of the "out of sight, out of mind" deal?

[LOL WUT]

[themocaw]

I remember this from a while back, yeah. Didn't there used to be a blowjob somewhere in the middle though, as part of the "out of sight, out of mind" deal?

There was. I removed it. It was sheer porn and didn't serve the plot at all. Also, it completely broke the tone I was developing, of quiet melancholy.

If you look around on KSGs you can still find the old version.

[Mirage_GSM]

Hey, he's back!
おかえり！

Quality story as always. And I agree that porn very rarely improves a story.

[Guest]

"Have a wonderful time in America," Akio says, at long last. "Write --->to<--- me."

How do so many people manage to get that wrong?
But, apart from that, it's as excellent as one would expect from you.

[Banda]

I was just about to pass out when I saw this pop up, and to be honest, I cried for some reason. I don't know why, but I just started crying like a bitch at that last line regarding Mutou's tie pin.

This is amazing, and you should feel amazing for writing it.

[nemz]

There was. I removed it. It was sheer porn and didn't serve the plot at all. Also, it completely broke the tone I was developing, of quiet melancholy.

True, but then in the version I saw before that was pretty much the end. I do like this one better.

Needs a real title though.

[Mirage_GSM]

"Have a wonderful time in America," Akio says, at long last. "Write --->to<--- me."

How do so many people manage to get that wrong?

Spoken language in fiction is always as correct as the character doing the speaking.
Mutou is not the kind to care about stuff like that.

[Mahorfeus]

Not bad at all. Have to say I liked it.

But for some confounded reason, I had the sneaking suspicion that the first epilogue would end with "She never saw him again." Glad to see I was wrong.

[Oddball]

No. Bad LOL WU. BAD! Leave that sort of thing in the -chans where it belongs!

There was. I removed it. It was sheer porn and didn't serve the plot at all. Also, it completely broke the tone I was developing, of quiet melancholy.

If you look around on KSGs you can still find the old version.

Oddly enough, I just read the older version day before yesterday and really felt that stuff destroyed the story you had going.

[themocaw]

Oddly enough, I just read the older version day before yesterday and really felt that stuff destroyed the story you had going.

Yeah, well, the original writing prompt this story was derived from was Misha raping Mutou, so I did the porn scene first then backfilled.

[griffon8]

Very nice. Glad I haven't seen the original. Let's keep the quality high!