A Possibility for the Future

[Penguinmayhem]

I am a passenger.

Strange how, of all things, now I can’t get that song out of my head. The thought makes me smile.

“Hey, nee-chan?”

A deep, masculine voice brings me from my daydreaming. It takes me a moment to realise that the car has stopped moving. Who can say how long I’ve been sitting here with my head on the window, off in my own world.

“We’re there,” the driver tells me, as if it wasn’t obvious already. His face in the rear view mirror looks back at me with concern. “You okay?”

“Fine,” I say, not believing it. “I’m fine.”

He just sits there, looking guardedly back at me, trying to see through my masquerade. Good luck there, pal.

“I…I’m really sorry about…” But he waves me off with one hand, turning from concern to amusement on his face.

“Part of the job.”

That doesn’t really make me feel any better about it.

“It’s just that…I don’t think I’ve ever really told anyone…all these things…”

He gives me a curious look. For a moment, it’s almost like he’s one of those professional therapists you see on TV sometimes, or a psychologist moonlighting as a taxi driver. Why he would want to is anyone’s guess.

“You’d be surprised how easy it can be to open up to a complete stranger,” he assures me with a smile in his eyes, tight-lipped. “Especially when you know you’ll never meet again.”

“I…guess that makes sense.” I can feel my face starting to heat up again now. “Anyway, thank you again.”

“Enjoy your party,” he tells me with a grin, “nee-chan. Hope it goes well for you.”

This is where we part ways, mister mystery driver, for good. As the door thuds shut behind me, I can’t help but feel a little inadequate. If only I could really say how much I appreciate this.

The tyres crunch through the gravel driveway, and then that little box on wheels that has been my refuge for so many long hours now is gone again. I feel a moment of apprehension. Lilly won’t like hearing how I spent most of my allowance riding round in circles for most of the day. Maybe the dress will make up for it.

It’s a big porch, but then it’s a big house. I’m sure you could probably park a small limo on the middle step, the big wide one halfway to the door, like a platform for all the guests to congregate before entering. It shouldn’t really surprise me that there’s a doorman too standing next to the big polished oak doors, holding one open for me. The fact that he recognises me on sight is a little unnerving. How much has Lilly told of me to her friends and family?

I suddenly feel a churning in my stomach. Doubting her is just as difficult as always, it seems.

I have to fight the urge to shrink back, to hide myself from sight. This is the time to stand out and be noticed. It doesn’t matter that the sleeves on the dress that cost so much don’t reach right to my wrists, and so leave a good deal of the pale, scarred flesh across the backs of my hands bared. It doesn’t matter that the neck is so low, either, and that the doorman can see the unusual white pattern travelling down the right side of my neck and collar. It certainly doesn’t matter the way the purple velvet clings to my body at every turn, or how the long slit up the left side leaves right up to the mid-thigh exposed. What matters is the click click the heels make on the smooth marble steps, and the way the doorman’s eyes widen when I toss my hair the way dear Lilly showed me, the way that leaves the right side of my face revealed for just a moment.

“Have a nice evening, ma’am,” he stutters at me as I stride past. It’s taking all my concentration not to trip in these heels, or to turn around and run. I look back at him over my shoulder and smile dangerously.

“We’ll see.”

How exhilarating that feels.

Inside is just as busy as I expected. The entrance hall is a clutter of servants flitting to and fro between impatient guests chatting and laughing and busying themselves in one another’s company, all dressed to fit the occasion, and to demonstrate their own high stature and wealth in the face of this extravagant reception. I ignore them all, but the turning of heads and catching of breath as I pass by them all resolutely fills me with both terror and joy. A maid intercepts me as I approach the ballroom with a tray in her hands, ready to offer me something or other, but she too seems to be caught off guard by my appearance up close. She turns to stare as I glide through the open doorway, gently pushing my way past another group of people probably twice my age in clothes worth more than I want to consider.

I’m just in time. I can hear it swelling in the background, that familiar tune I’ve heard so many times now, but this time it’s different. This time, not just a hum but a full orchestra. The crescendo approaches. My time is short.

She’s easy to spot in any crowd, especially this one, when she’s the centrepiece of the whole evening. There she is, in the middle of the floor, being whirled round in slow patterns by a man who could be her father, or one of his business associates perhaps. Does it matter? I push my way politely but firmly through the crowd towards her and pay no attention to the flustered butler who seems rather troubled by my unannounced appearance.

I stumble at the edge of the floor, and almost trip. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like this.

She has her arm on the man’s shoulder, her hand clasped in his, and her face is alight with the simple pleasure of the dance as they drift round in their endless pattern. Her radiant golden hair, held back from her face and tied at the back with a beautiful crimson bow, flows down the back of her neck to her shoulders. Her delicate features are turned up with joy, hazy opal eyes sparkling up at him in a way that makes the poor man’s face glow. How she does enjoy doing that. She looks so graceful and elegant, two words I’ve come to associate closely with her, now wholly inadequate to describe the way she drifts from foot to foot, the hem of the billowing ankle-length skirt hiding her legs in a way that makes her appear afloat on the open dance floor.

I track my eyes up along that skirt and find my face turning a fresh shade of scarlet; the waist does pinch in along the curve of her hips ever so pronouncedly, demonstrating her womanly figure to all. The pastel blue-and-green fabric curls up to capture her breast, lifting and presenting them in a way I know must have been her idea, her father would never consider such a thing appropriate. The dress is sleeveless, and more than that, entirely strapless, only a pair of long blue-green gloves cover her arms up past the elbow. As she turns with the music, I see that it’s all but backless too, leaving everything from her waist up completely bared.

“How bold as ever, Lilly.”

She can’t have heard me over the music and the murmur of the crowd, and yet her face snaps toward me with a curious expression as I approach. Her partner notices and turns to look himself. I’d like to think he seems rather stunned by my appearance.

“May I cut in?” I smile to the man with at least a head over me as I slip one arm between the two of them. He nods dimly and bows to the blonde beauty before stepping back to allow me to take over.

“But,” is the first thing she says to me, her eyes locked to my face with that same confused look still in her expression. “I didn’t think you knew how to lead.”

“I learned.” I can only hope that sounded as confident as I intended. Still, she smiles at me with the warmth I’ve come to cherish as I take her hand in mine. She steps into the embrace with her free hand resting on my shoulder as she did with her previous partner, but I’ve other plans for you, my dear Lilly.

She gasps when my arm slips round her waist, feeling the bare skin of her back, and pulls her body close against me. As much as she always teases, she’s blushing more than me now, her chest against mine so tightly that I imagine I can almost feel her heartbeat, and her breath is warm on my nose.

And then I lift her off her feet and sweep her across the floor the way she’s so often described to me, the way she says she’s always wanted to experience it. Perhaps, or perhaps not, I can’t say that I’m strong enough or skilled enough to give her a proper high-class performance, but I can give all that I can. I do just that, until her heart is beating so hard and fast I can feel it, until she’s panting softly against my face and laughing with delight, her cheeks rosy and her eyes shining with laughter.

The music plateaus and slowly falls back to its previous leisurely tone, and now I can hold her against me and enjoy the way it feels to have her cheek on my shoulder, her breathing still heavy in my ear as she catches her breath.

“Thank you, Hanako,” she whispers at last in the voice that makes me shiver. “It was a wonderful experience indeed…but what brought this on, I wonder? Why such a sudden change of heart?” She pulls away only so far as to look me in the eye, even with her sightless gaze, as if she could look into my very soul with those misty cerulean eyes of hers. “Is something wrong?”

Am I crying? Is it a tear I feel running down my cheek? Or am I just imagining it perhaps, fearing the worst. I wouldn’t want to cry now, not when I’ve come so far for this.

“Something is wrong,” I manage to say, finally. “Something has been wrong for a long time now, but I know what it is now, and I want to fix it.”

Her mouth turns down in that way that says she knows what I’m about to say, or thinks she does at least. Damn, but her body feels so good in that dress. I can’t help holding her in both hands now, feeling the curve of her waist through the thin fabric, the way she flexes as we continue our duet.

“Hisao?” She narrows her eyes now slightly, focused on her own thoughts. “I know something has happened between the two of you…” I don’t want to interrupt her, but I must.

“Yes, something. Something I think…that may change my life forever. Maybe it already has.”

“That’s wonderful, Hanako dear,” she replies with her usual certainty, but a hint of trepidation in her voice. “I feared I may have done something horribly rash earlier on and I could only hope that the two of you were okay.”

“It’s not your fault, Lilly.” That’s all I can say, though. Right now I just want to enjoy this. I’ve never danced with anyone like this before, not even her. It just feels so…good.

“Hisao likes you,” my voice prompts my mind to follow with a shudder, after what seems like forever. “I know you’ve been so good to me, you’re so kind and generous, and you’re such a wonderful friend. I don’t think I’ve ever felt so…appreciated in all my life. But seeing you with him still made me…it hurt. And I didn’t know why.”

“Hanako…”

Her hand on my face again, so many times but still I can’t stop blushing each time anew. She always favours the right side, and I can’t bring myself to stop her. Not now either, with the glistening sheen of moisture in her eyes gazing back at me with tender compassion.

“That’s why Hisao isn’t here tonight. I wanted to come and tell you myself, and he agreed to let me.” My voice wavers, but I know I can do this. I know. “I’m just so glad that we could talk, so that I could sort out all these things in my head. You mean so much to me, I couldn’t bare to just let it all end without trying to sort everything out first. Even if it means you hate me afterward. Even if it means you…”

I can’t. My voice won’t go on, and neither can I. I’m only glad that she can’t see how painful this is, but no doubt she can feel it on my face, hear it in my voice, the way she always does.

“Please don’t make me go,” I choke out at last. It has to be said. Even if it makes her face scrunch up into such an expression of tortured helplessness that makes my heart ache. Now she is crying, even if I promised I wouldn’t.

“Don’t say that.” Her voice is barely a whisper, so weak and frail, and she tosses herself against me once more, arms tight around my neck. “I would never begrudge your heart. You’re too precious to me. I would rather stay your friend than steal your love away for myself.”

Why can’t I say it? Why can’t I just out and say it?

“Lilly…” The music rises towards a climax, but that’s all subconscious now. All that matters is her in my arms as she leans back almost unnoticeably, the way she showed me so many times. “You already have.”

For a second, she looks as if she could burst into tears at any moment. Then fear and pain turn to a stunned blankness.

Her lips taste of honey.

Was I too forceful? Was it too swift, or too firm, or too demanding of me? I can only hover here now, with her practically hanging in my arms, holding her body up with both hands the way she showed me once long ago, watching her expressionless face. I watch and wait, and something breaks across her features like a sunrise, slow and beautiful.

“Hana…Hanako…”

I can’t help but find it amusing to hear her stutter my name now in such a way, as I once did hers when we first met. But my conscious mind is too busy longing for that touch again to consider it. I kiss her one more time, the same, but slower, longer this time. It’s just as sweet and just as soft as the first.

Then her arms tighten round my neck, and she’s kissing me before I have time to be surprised. The ballroom fades around me until all that exists is her.

I was chaste, that much I can say for myself. To have stolen dear Lilly’s first kiss, or perhaps not quite the first, I can still say that I gave such elegant lips a pleasurable experience. But this, she in return, is like an animal. Like a desperate, starving soul clinging to me in need, with her lips teasing mine apart imploringly. She has no force, no surety, but she has the pleading touch that makes me powerless to do anything but open my mouth to her in reply. Her tongue touches mine.

Like a lightning bolt, the shock breaks us apart, and she panting from the suddenness of it all. Sweat on her brow, I know there must be on mine now and more, face drenched, given how hot I feel all of a sudden. I don’t think I ever planned on doing that, certainly not here with all these people. Her cheeks are a lovely pinkish colour that just makes me want to kiss them too. But before I have a chance, she pulls herself up against me for the second time, except now I kiss her first. Except it doesn’t matter any more. What matters is the way she laps at my lower lip, the way her teeth feel so neat and pristine and delicate in her mouth just like the rest of her, the way she seems to take my breath away every time, and of course the way her hands slide from collar to shoulder, and then she slips her arms under mine and I take a hand to the back of her head and cup the small of her back in the other, and the contact of her bare skin to my palm sets her face afire.

Say it. Say it now, you idiot.

“Lilly…” My tongue caresses her name, but still I fear I do her no justice. “You’re the first person in my life who really liked me for who I was, and didn’t care what I looked like, you’re the only person in the world I really feel I can trust with anything. You’re the only one who ever said I was beautiful and meant it.”

Her hand is on my face again and her eyes on mine. It doesn’t matter that she can’t see how much it hurts, or how happy I am now. She always knows. Her fingers tracing lines on my skin, etching her patterns into me forever, leaving her mark on me.

“But you were always wrong, Lilly, you’re so much more than me. I could never be so kind and open and trusting as you. That’s why I love you so much.”

Her breath catches in her throat. I can feel her heart hammering against my chest. Her body is so soft and inviting to my touch, I can’t stop thinking about it any more. I want to hold her like this forever.

“I’ve done something terrible to you, I know, but I hope you can forgive me for it. I can only beg you not to make me go. I don’t think I could leave you for anything, Lilly. Not anything.”

Now, you idiot.

Thank all the gods of heaven my fingers can find it when my brain can’t. Lost in the sensation of her, of her scent filling my awareness and the sweet, faintly spicy taste of the wine and her lips, and the feeling of her body pressed so tight against me, my left hand can still open a box all by itself. That little trinket feels as heavy as the world in my hand, but I can bring it to her gaze all the same.

The sapphire twinkles in the bright light, like a distant star. The band fits to her finger perfectly.

“It matches your eyes,” I tell her in a whisper, and she just nods. Is this the part where she says “Thank you, but…” and gives it back?

“Hanako,” is all she says. I’ve never heard it like that before.

She throws her arms round my neck again and pulls me into another passionate kiss that stretches on forever. I just hope that means “yes.”

ＴＲＵＥ ＥＮＤ

[cpl_crud]

Part of me wanted that last bit to be Hanako stabbing Lilly for some reason.

I'd say it was a pretty major part. I'm not sure why, but it had that vibe about it.

[Penguinmayhem]

I guess I'm just not twisted enough for that. Although I do now have a pissed off short haired, one-eyed angry knife wielding Hanako in my head.

[cpl_crud]

I guess I'm just not twisted enough for that. Although I do now have a pissed off short haired, one-eyed angry knife wielding Hanako in my head.

welcome to my life

[Aura]

You really should learn to spell the characters' names correctly.

[Penguinmayhem]

You really should learn to spell the characters' names correctly.

Fixed.

[TheHivemind]

A confident Hanako?

ADORABLE.