AKIRA
“Sweet Jesus, how many people did they invite?” There have to be at least thirty people just hanging around outside, and the food tables look equipped to serve twice that.
“I d…” Hanako just puts up her hands and shakes her head.
“Let’s not worry about it. This looks much too good to pass up.” I grab a plate and get in the queue, which moves quickly. I don’t even know what half these dishes are called, but that looks like a hamburger with an egg on top, drenched in gravy. It looks like breakfast to me, and I don’t yet have a hangover to cure. Breaded chicken cutlet – yeah I’ll take a little of that. Teriyaki beef. It looks tasty enough, but I can get that anytime. Now this looks good, whatever it is. It looks like shredded pork, marinated in something. I pinch just a bit with the metal tongs and drop it on my plate, and immediately take a bite. Bingo. I grab more. The next thing looks like Korean-style ribs, cut crosswise, so I sample it. It’s sweet. Sure, I’ll go for that too. Rice – of course. It’s Japan. Macaroni salad? Why not.
There are no beverages on display, though it seems like most people are heading for the dorm building after they leave here. That’s probably where the drinks are. I grab a napkin, knife, and fork at the far end, all rolled in a little paper band reading Catering by the Shanghai.
“When did they start making this kind of food at the Shanghai? I might have to revise my opinion of the place.”
“I th-think you just t-tasted their proposal.”
Well I’ll be damned. That would kind of explain why the drinks are inside, unless this is a dry party… and given who is throwing it, I doubt that very much.
Inside, there’s a punchbowl, and several types of wine, but no hard liquor in sight. That’s probably for the best, all things considered. In the rest of the room are a large round card table, currently unoccupied, and two dart boards against the wall. There is a line of masking tape on the floor showing where to stand, and tension barriers on either side of the dart area. This is also probably for the best, given the number of people that could inadvertently walk into the line of fire. It doesn’t look much like a pub though. I wonder if anyone here has actually seen one.
I pour merlot into a red plastic cup, then grab my phone. “Hey Lils, what are you up to?”
“Not much, just trying to listen to some of the lectures I missed while we were away. It’s hard with all the racket going on outside though.”
“Why don’t you come out and join us then? There’s some good food… some really good food… and wine, and I haven’t checked yet to see if the punch is spiked, but I bet it is. You have weeks to catch up on recorded lectures.” I hear her sigh, trying to think of a polite way to decline. I don’t give her time. “If you don’t come out on your own, we’re going to come over and drag you out by the heels, and you don’t want that, right?”
“I’ll need someone to help me choose what goes on my plate.”
“And that has stopped us… when? You won’t be the only person here who can’t see what you’re eating. We’re in the common room of the other dorm, and are going to head over to you now. If you aren’t outside waiting for us, we’re coming in after you.” I hang up, then I sit down at the card table and start to eat.
“B-but you just s-said…” Hanako points at my phone.
“Yeah, I know, but even if she wants to come out on her own, it’ll take her a few minutes. I see no point in forcing the issue.” Besides, this pork is is way too good to let it get cold.
The stalling tactic works, and she’s waiting outside her door. Hanako takes her arm. “You have to t-try the p-pork, and the r-ribs.” We start walking.
“Yeah it’s a bit of an eclectic mix. It’s a little bit Asian, and a little bit American, and…”
“It’s Hawaiian,” Hanako announces confidently, then she gets quiet again. “I d-didn’t see any m-musubi.”
“Is it hot?” Lilly asks. Given her reaction to the vindaloo, this shouldn’t surprise us.
“Nothing I tried was. Everything seemed to be savory or sweet, or both at once. There was one thing that looked like a heart attack on a plate, a burger with egg and gravy on it. I let that one pass. Maybe if I had a really nasty hangover…”
“Th-that’s lunch food for th-them.”
Huh. Maybe that’s when they wake up with hangovers.
***
“You were right. This is really good. I think I like the ribs even more than the pork though.” Judging by the mess on Lilly’s face, I’d say this was probably the case. I gave up on trying to eat the ribs with a fork too, resorting to just picking the slices up and tearing them apart.
“It needs something stronger than wine to wash it down though, don’t you think?” asks one of our companions at the table. I give him a look over, which is more than he can do in return. Even after all this time, I’m still trying to pre-sort the losers and slackers for Lilly, but this boy seems to be neither.
“Something like this perhaps?” A flask appears in her hand, complete with greasy fingerprints on its mirror finish, and she sets it on the table with enough of an impact that even a fellow blind student knows it just landed. I shoot a glance at Hanako, and she shoots one back at me, while his hand extends slowly in the right general direction. As soon as his palm bumps it, his hand closes before it can fall over.
Unscrewing the lid, he takes a small sniff, then a second before putting the lid back on and putting the flask back in a very reasonable approximation of where he picked it up. “Yes, something like that.”
“Lilly, how often do you carry that?” As far as I can tell, this is a new habit and I’d like to know just how established it is.
“Only for… special social events.”
I suppose this qualifies, so I’ll have to let that pass for now. This definitely bears watching though. A month ago, she couldn’t pronounce Glenmorangie, and now she’s carrying it on her hip. Or at least I hope that’s what it is. If not, that would mean the bottle is empty… but I can’t remember how much we actually left for her after that evening. She wipes it down with a napkin, erasing the fingerprints but leaving streaks in their place. Then it disappears, from whence it came.
“Might I ask what exactly that was? I did not sample, only gave it a pass under my nose, but it seemed rather pleasant.” The boy is polite and well-spoken. I give Hanako another glance and a smile, while giving a slight nod in his direction. She does the same, only tipping the nod in the other direction, toward my sister, who is noticeably blushing.
“Fancy a game of darts?” I whisper in her ear. That would get us out of their hair, but still leave us in easy eavesdropping range. At her nod, I announce our intentions and we leave the two to become better acquainted. “Do you know him?” I whisper once more.
Hanako nods. “Tadao Kawakami, R-radio Club m-member, and that’s his sister M-Mariko.”
I thought they looked an awful lot alike. I revert to a normal voice. “Closest to the center for starters?”
***
Even with the second board available, we only manage a couple of games before attracting enough of a crowd to create a queue of players waiting on us, so we bow out and let them in. Lilly and her new friend have moved to bean bags in a corner, where they are talking quietly but with intensity, so we leave them to it and head off in search of something stronger than wine.
When we arrive at the new room, there are eight people inside along with bottles and jugs and stacks of cups, and it only feels moderately crowded.
“Oh! Hello, you!” Neko jumps to her feet. “I have something for you.” She produces a comb-bound presentation, with glossy plastic covers. “I’m glad you could make it and sample the delicacies first-hand. All the paper in the world won’t tell you if something tastes good. Now we’re just waiting until things start to wind down outside. The music has to be off by eleven, and I expect most people will wander indoors once that happens.”
I check my phone – that’s still almost an hour away. “I promised you this would get read, but it would be a good idea if you’d arrange for another tasting session when it comes time to seal the deal. It doesn’t have to be this massive though. But if you want to know our dirty little secret…” I lean in close. “...we’re looking for the good stuff.”
“Safety meetings are in there.” She points at the bathroom, and I notice I can hear the fan running.
They tolerate that around here too? “Oh… no, I didn’t mean that. I meant... «Wine is fine but whisky’s quicker.»”
“«Suicide is slow with liquor.»” So she’s a headbanger. I should have guessed. “Sorry, for simplicity’s sake, all we have to offer is wine and Everclear punch tonight. You’re welcome to re-spike a batch though. We’ve been mixing the bowl to about five percent, but we’ll double that for the afterparty. What were you looking for?”
“Eh, don’t worry about it. The convenience store is still open, right?” I get oddly raised eyebrows from everyone.
“It’s always open, but please get a paper bag with your purchase.” I spin around to face the voice from behind me.
“Toshio!” I give El Jefe an embrace, and it takes him a moment to return it and pat me on the back. “I hope my business partners haven’t caused you too much distress tonight.”
“No… or at least, not yet, anyhow. The night’s still young. Business, huh? I thought you were rivals.”
“Well… yes, but on this one, we’re allies. If they make money, we make money. More personally, I’m also looking forward to having somewhere good to eat around here.”
“Fine by me. I wish more of our associates could bury the hatchet somewhere other than each others’ skulls.”
As we head off to the store, Hanako keeps to herself until we’re out of earshot of the building, and then some. “W-what does he mean by r-rivals?”
“Let’s just say that the Rogers’ and the Satous sometimes find themselves competing for the same business opportunities, and things do not generally go as hospitably as this. Who knows now though?” I wave the proposal. “This could be the start of something good for everyone.” I flip through it quickly. Nice. It’s in color, they provided actual numbers, and they included photos of the current conditions, and of the equipment to be purchased. “When I was in law school, he was considering doing the same but ultimately decided to go down the Criminal Justice path. He couldn’t see himself cooped up in an office all day, every day, and frankly, neither can I.” We sidetrack to the car briefly and I toss the proposal into the back seat before we head down the hill.
“He w-wanted to be a c-cop? This must be a d-disappointment.”
“Maybe, but I think he knew all along that was unlikely to happen. He knew he couldn’t live down the reputation of his family, nor was that family going to look to kindly to having him looking over their shoulders – unless they owned him, of course. They didn’t want to do that, so they made sure his dirty laundry got aired before he ever got started.”
“H-his family?”
“Ah yes, you have been isolated from clan politics most of your life, haven’t you. This is what happens to low-ranking members of a syndicate, they have to take real jobs. If they’re lucky – and he is – they’re able to put this job to use toward their advancement. Now you can see why he’d never have made it into the ranks of the police, as he belongs to one of the very organizations they’re sworn to fight. Well, that, and the fact that his syndicate outed him very publicly. That’s not illegal anymore, but it’s still frowned upon in certain very conservative circles – enough to be a serious blow to a career in law enforcement.” That generation is dying off or at least stepping out of the way, but significant pockets remain.
“Outed him? You m-mean he’s gay?”
“Are you seriously telling me he managed to crawl back into the closet? I thought everyone knew.” I thought you’d have figured it out by the way he squirmed when I touched him. “If it’s not common knowledge, please respect him and keep it to yourself. He has been rather accommodating to us, he deserves the same courtesy.”
Nekonomicon series continuation?
Re: "Three Of A Perfect Pair" (Neko, Book 2) Loco Moco
HANAKO
“I d-don’t think I can b-buy into this g-game.” If the white chips are 100 and the reds are 500, as they generally are, then Suzu has about 12,000 yen stacked in front of her.
“«Minimum buy-in is two thousand, max is five. English only at the table, please,»” Neko says.
“Pick a seat,” Akira tells me with a wave of her hand, while a 10,000 yen note flutters to the table. “«We’re both in for five.»”
I choose the seat next to Neko, who takes the money off the table and starts stacking chips – six red, twenty white for each of us – and pushes the stacks toward each of us. She gestures first at Akira. “«Molly has the button, so you can either wait or post.»” Akira puts out two chips, and Neko turns toward me. “«You’re in the big blind.»” She puts out one white chip.
I push out my two chips, and Molly shoots cards around the table with an expert flick of the wrist. I watch everyone else’s mannerisms, mostly so that I can note the difference when they stop. Abe twirls a chip like a top, watching it spin on the table. Suzu takes a stack of chips, twelve to be exact, cuts it in half and interleaves the two back together neatly with one hand. Hisao sits quietly and appears to be simply watching the progress of the game. The guy to his left, who I think is the track captain, is rolling a chip across his knuckles, back and forth. Akira also looks on to get a feel for the players, just as I am. Molly is dealing, not much to read there. Neko is doing a neat little trick with three sandwiched chips, extracting the center one, flipping it over, and sliding it back in place.
Abe is first to act, and as soon as he has a peek at both cards, he’s pitching them into the pot. Suzu spins two chips out with a backhand toss, then resumes cutting and stacking the remaining ten under her hand. Hisao folds, the captain calls, Akira raises to eight and Molly folds. Neko pitches in her cards and flicks her one chip into the pot with a finger. I finally stop to take a peek at my cards: king and jack, off-suit. Not bad, but not worth six more chips from an early position. No longer in the hand, I stop watching the cards and start watching the players. Suzu tosses in six more chips as casually as she tossed in the first two, pulling more from her main stack to replenish the ones she shuffles. The captain does a bit of a double-take, but decides to call as well.
As Molly spreads the flop on the table, I wish I could get a better view of Suzu’s face as she gets her first glimpse of it. After a couple seconds, she taps the table, and I take a glance at the board: 6 6 2, rainbow. A few more seconds go by before Molly gently prompts. “«Kenta, check to you.»”
“«Oh, right.»” He raps on the table as well.
Akira pauses a beat, then grabs two red and two white chips, placing them in front of her and knocking the stack over with her finger.
“«Right, you can have it.»” Suzu pitches in her cards.
Again there is hesitation, but at least it looks like Kenta is paying attention this time so nothing is said. Finally he cuts out the twelve chips, sets them aside, then continues counting what he has left. “«Raise.»” He pushes out the twelve, then follows it up with another stack of twenty.
“«Uh huh. Well, this could be a very good start to the evening, or a very bad one.»” Akira waves both hands toward the center of the table. “«I’m all in.»” It’s not really that bold a move, compared to merely calling. She would have only had ten chips left anyhow. Since it is just ten more chips, Kenta doesn’t hesitate and tosses in his call, and Akira turns up a pair of queens. “«Siegfried and Roy. Whatcha got?»”
With a grimace, he turns up the ace and queen of hearts, and I hear Suzu snort from two spots to my left. Molly burns and deals the turn: king of hearts, leaving thirteen outs for Kenta on the river between the three aces and the backdoor flush. She burns and deals the river: eight of clubs. Akira exhales loudly in relief. Molly pushes her the pot, collects up the cards, and starts shuffling as an already shuffled pack is passed to Neko to deal. She hands me the yellow cut card, and I insert it into the deck. She completes the cut and the cards are flying again. “«Small blind, big blind,»” she reminds us, and I flip out one chip.
Five and three. Suited, but not worth calling a raise. Dump it and watch. I hear a giggle come from the corner of the room, and sit up tall to see over Neko – not that this is particularly difficult. It looks like things are getting serious. Lilly and Tadao are drinking from the same cup, having switched to the party punch once it got re-spiked at the close of the outdoor part of the party. The wine is long gone.
Akira’s phone buzzes. She glances at it, taps in a short reply, and puts it away again. There is more giggling in the corner, and then my phone chimes.
Unknown number. “I can text u. ^_^ Lilly.” I am guessing that’s Tadao’s number, and that he’s already teaching her bad texting habits.
It’s my button, so a reply has to wait. I offer the pack for the cut, then deal. The bets come around, and there are three calls in before me with no raise. I take a peek at my cards: a pair of tens. It’s time to push the crap hands out so I know what I’m up against. “«Raise.»” I push out two red chips. To my surprise, Suzu calls from the big blind, and Molly also calls and stays in.
I pick up the deck, burn, and deal out three cards, then turn them over, but rather than look at the cards, I look at the players as best I can. Molly’s eyes just went to her chips. Whatever she has, that flop just hit for her. Suzu checks, and I have to resist the urge to glance down myself. I can’t give off a tell if I don’t know what I have yet.
Molly tosses out four red chips. Now I have to look. Ace ten ace! Two of them are spades, but I have no fear of a flush. I’m guessing she’s holding an ace, and if that’s the case, she’s not likely to let it go unless I come over the top – and probably not even then. Why take the chance though? Maybe Suzu caught an ace as well and is looking to check-raise, and I wouldn’t want to dissuade her from doing so.
“«C-call.»” It’s not necessary to state this, as I could just as easily toss out the chips without comment, but I want to be heard.
Suzu actually leans forward and gives me a look before turning her gaze back on Molly. “«Yeah, okay.»” She puts out her twenty, and I burn and deal the turn. Four of spades. If either of them was on the flush draw, they just hit it. Suzu hesitates just long enough not to sound overly confident, before declaring herself all-in.
Molly grimaces, finally muttering “«Do the necessary,»” as she pitches her cards in. It looks like I read her right, and it also looks like she’s got the same read on Suzu that I do.
It’s not a tough decision, and there is nothing to be gained by slow-rolling here. My last seventeen chips go into the pot, and I turn up my cards.
“«Nice hand,»” Suzu mutters, and turns up… the king and queen of spades. This isn’t over yet. I feel my heart skip a beat as I burn and deal the river face down. Turning it over, it’s my turn to exhale loudly. It’s another spade, but it’s not the Jack, and that’s all that matters.
Akira lets out an excited whoop, and claps her hands. “«It’s time to get the party started!»”
Since I have my hands full stacking up my chips, Molly collects up the cards and shuffles while Abe deals from the already prepared pack. I ask her, “«Y-you had the ace, d-didn’t you?»”
“«More than that,»” she replies in an accent that is both charming and difficult to understand. “«I had her Jack of spades too. I’m glad I got out of the way of that one.»”
I dump the next few hands, continuing to watch the players. I don’t get much chance to look at Neko, and Suzu is somewhat screened from me, so I often can’t see her face. Abe doesn’t play many hands. Hisao is pretty good about concealing his thoughts, and it looks like he may have already gotten the lesson about not reacting to the cards hitting the table. He seems to always hold his gaze there a couple seconds, then glance down at his chips. That’s not to say he won’t have other tells, but he has managed to avoid the most common ones. Kenta is an open book, and it’s pretty obvious he’s the sucker at the table. This leaves Molly, and my dear Akira. Both of them seem to throw off signs constantly, but I can’t yet decide what they mean, or if they’re being deceptive. One thing is clear though – this table is not afraid to go big when someone thinks they’ve got it.
An alarm goes off to my right. “«By popular demand, it’s time for intermission. We will resume in ten minutes, if there are six players at the table. If not, then we resume in fifteen. There’s plenty of food left in the fridge.»” Neko pockets her phone as everyone rises from the table.
“Isn’t it cute?” Akira asks me as she joins me for more food and drink. “Eight players, five different accents. It’s Lilly’s nightmare. How long do you want to stay?”
“N-next intermission?”
She nods. “Works for me. Do you know how to make that thing with the burger and the gravy?” I nod, so she continues. “Good. I may want that for breakfast. Nothing like grease to cure a hangover.”
“B-but you haven’t been d-drinking that m-much.”
“Nope, I still have to drive us back. But who said breakfast had to be in the morning?” She gives me a wink.
***
“I don’t really care, they just have to get out of here. I really do appreciate this.” Neko smiles at Akira. “I hope you can get a little bit of cash for them, you deserve something.”
Three heavy contractor bags filled with wine and liquor bottles – where in the world did they come up with all of this? The cellar just isn’t that big.
“I’ll have to put down the back seat for this.” Akira climbs inside and makes the adjustments. “I have to say, you do know how to throw a party, even when it totally gets away from you.”
There’s barely room for my overnight bag behind my seat, and I have a small catering tray to carry on my lap. Neko was only too happy to part with the loco moco fixings when Akira asked for them.
As we pull away, she turns to me and asks, “So how’d you do? I knew better than to ask with the game still in progress. «You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table.»”
“I… w-won a l-little.” I’ll have to remember to give back the starting stake.
“Yeah? So did I, but I’d never make a living at it. I might be able to buy another bottle of bourbon with the winnings.”
Oh, I did better than that. Poor Kenta. I was right, he was the cash machine for the table. I don’t know what he might have posted before we bought in, but he bought in for another twenty thousand over the course of the night. I felt sorry for him, but it didn’t stop me, or anyone else, from taking his money. And Suzu… I picked her pocket, but that’s just how the cards broke tonight. It could easily have gone the other way around. “It s-sure is faster than s-snooker.”
“Snooker? You’ve been hustling billiards too? Damn.”
“N-no… there’s a t-table at the r-ranch, and Suzu only p-plays for m-money.”
“Well doesn’t that just suck. I’d like to see you put on an exhibition, but thanks to that little… family rivalry of ours, there’s no way I could be seen there. Maybe we can get her to come play on neutral territory one of these days.”
That would be nice, or maybe we could all become more than grudging allies, perhaps? I know how deep blood and tradition run here though. “Are we going to d-drop these bottles s-somewhere?”
“Not now, it’s almost three in the morning. I’ll figure out what to do with them whenever it’s time to run you back, or whenever I get tired of having them in the car, whichever comes first – or maybe you can. You need the hours behind the wheel anyhow, right? Besides, we’ll probably add a few dead soldiers of our own to the pile before this weekend is up.” It sounds like we may be in for two days of loco moco breakfasts.
“W-were you s-serious about driving to Hokkaido?” Eight and a half hours each way would not be so bad on a train, but in a car it’s a bit less pleasant.
“You bet your arse. If you do half of it – and sorry, time on the ferry does not count – that’ll be an extra seven hours or so on your log just on the journey, and we’ll also have the car the whole time we’re there. Hakodate is a pretty forgiving place for a new driver to get the hang of navigating in traffic, and for all we know, you may have your license before class starts again. If we took the train, sure it cuts a few hours off each way… but you log no time, I have to rent a car when we get there, and you can’t drive it. This also makes more sense the more people go. Right now it’s just Lilly in the back seat, but the way things were going tonight, that may change. I really hope it does. It would help her to know she has someone to pal around with rather than feeling like she’s stuck in the middle with us.”
That probably would be good for her, but I wonder if Tadao and Mariko have willingly been separated for five days before… or whether we might be cramming both of them in the back seat. Neko told me how astonished she was to see Mariko show up for the anchor leg of the radio contest alone, and that was just four hours. Only time will tell.
“I d-don’t think I can b-buy into this g-game.” If the white chips are 100 and the reds are 500, as they generally are, then Suzu has about 12,000 yen stacked in front of her.
“«Minimum buy-in is two thousand, max is five. English only at the table, please,»” Neko says.
“Pick a seat,” Akira tells me with a wave of her hand, while a 10,000 yen note flutters to the table. “«We’re both in for five.»”
I choose the seat next to Neko, who takes the money off the table and starts stacking chips – six red, twenty white for each of us – and pushes the stacks toward each of us. She gestures first at Akira. “«Molly has the button, so you can either wait or post.»” Akira puts out two chips, and Neko turns toward me. “«You’re in the big blind.»” She puts out one white chip.
I push out my two chips, and Molly shoots cards around the table with an expert flick of the wrist. I watch everyone else’s mannerisms, mostly so that I can note the difference when they stop. Abe twirls a chip like a top, watching it spin on the table. Suzu takes a stack of chips, twelve to be exact, cuts it in half and interleaves the two back together neatly with one hand. Hisao sits quietly and appears to be simply watching the progress of the game. The guy to his left, who I think is the track captain, is rolling a chip across his knuckles, back and forth. Akira also looks on to get a feel for the players, just as I am. Molly is dealing, not much to read there. Neko is doing a neat little trick with three sandwiched chips, extracting the center one, flipping it over, and sliding it back in place.
Abe is first to act, and as soon as he has a peek at both cards, he’s pitching them into the pot. Suzu spins two chips out with a backhand toss, then resumes cutting and stacking the remaining ten under her hand. Hisao folds, the captain calls, Akira raises to eight and Molly folds. Neko pitches in her cards and flicks her one chip into the pot with a finger. I finally stop to take a peek at my cards: king and jack, off-suit. Not bad, but not worth six more chips from an early position. No longer in the hand, I stop watching the cards and start watching the players. Suzu tosses in six more chips as casually as she tossed in the first two, pulling more from her main stack to replenish the ones she shuffles. The captain does a bit of a double-take, but decides to call as well.
As Molly spreads the flop on the table, I wish I could get a better view of Suzu’s face as she gets her first glimpse of it. After a couple seconds, she taps the table, and I take a glance at the board: 6 6 2, rainbow. A few more seconds go by before Molly gently prompts. “«Kenta, check to you.»”
“«Oh, right.»” He raps on the table as well.
Akira pauses a beat, then grabs two red and two white chips, placing them in front of her and knocking the stack over with her finger.
“«Right, you can have it.»” Suzu pitches in her cards.
Again there is hesitation, but at least it looks like Kenta is paying attention this time so nothing is said. Finally he cuts out the twelve chips, sets them aside, then continues counting what he has left. “«Raise.»” He pushes out the twelve, then follows it up with another stack of twenty.
“«Uh huh. Well, this could be a very good start to the evening, or a very bad one.»” Akira waves both hands toward the center of the table. “«I’m all in.»” It’s not really that bold a move, compared to merely calling. She would have only had ten chips left anyhow. Since it is just ten more chips, Kenta doesn’t hesitate and tosses in his call, and Akira turns up a pair of queens. “«Siegfried and Roy. Whatcha got?»”
With a grimace, he turns up the ace and queen of hearts, and I hear Suzu snort from two spots to my left. Molly burns and deals the turn: king of hearts, leaving thirteen outs for Kenta on the river between the three aces and the backdoor flush. She burns and deals the river: eight of clubs. Akira exhales loudly in relief. Molly pushes her the pot, collects up the cards, and starts shuffling as an already shuffled pack is passed to Neko to deal. She hands me the yellow cut card, and I insert it into the deck. She completes the cut and the cards are flying again. “«Small blind, big blind,»” she reminds us, and I flip out one chip.
Five and three. Suited, but not worth calling a raise. Dump it and watch. I hear a giggle come from the corner of the room, and sit up tall to see over Neko – not that this is particularly difficult. It looks like things are getting serious. Lilly and Tadao are drinking from the same cup, having switched to the party punch once it got re-spiked at the close of the outdoor part of the party. The wine is long gone.
Akira’s phone buzzes. She glances at it, taps in a short reply, and puts it away again. There is more giggling in the corner, and then my phone chimes.
Unknown number. “I can text u. ^_^ Lilly.” I am guessing that’s Tadao’s number, and that he’s already teaching her bad texting habits.
It’s my button, so a reply has to wait. I offer the pack for the cut, then deal. The bets come around, and there are three calls in before me with no raise. I take a peek at my cards: a pair of tens. It’s time to push the crap hands out so I know what I’m up against. “«Raise.»” I push out two red chips. To my surprise, Suzu calls from the big blind, and Molly also calls and stays in.
I pick up the deck, burn, and deal out three cards, then turn them over, but rather than look at the cards, I look at the players as best I can. Molly’s eyes just went to her chips. Whatever she has, that flop just hit for her. Suzu checks, and I have to resist the urge to glance down myself. I can’t give off a tell if I don’t know what I have yet.
Molly tosses out four red chips. Now I have to look. Ace ten ace! Two of them are spades, but I have no fear of a flush. I’m guessing she’s holding an ace, and if that’s the case, she’s not likely to let it go unless I come over the top – and probably not even then. Why take the chance though? Maybe Suzu caught an ace as well and is looking to check-raise, and I wouldn’t want to dissuade her from doing so.
“«C-call.»” It’s not necessary to state this, as I could just as easily toss out the chips without comment, but I want to be heard.
Suzu actually leans forward and gives me a look before turning her gaze back on Molly. “«Yeah, okay.»” She puts out her twenty, and I burn and deal the turn. Four of spades. If either of them was on the flush draw, they just hit it. Suzu hesitates just long enough not to sound overly confident, before declaring herself all-in.
Molly grimaces, finally muttering “«Do the necessary,»” as she pitches her cards in. It looks like I read her right, and it also looks like she’s got the same read on Suzu that I do.
It’s not a tough decision, and there is nothing to be gained by slow-rolling here. My last seventeen chips go into the pot, and I turn up my cards.
“«Nice hand,»” Suzu mutters, and turns up… the king and queen of spades. This isn’t over yet. I feel my heart skip a beat as I burn and deal the river face down. Turning it over, it’s my turn to exhale loudly. It’s another spade, but it’s not the Jack, and that’s all that matters.
Akira lets out an excited whoop, and claps her hands. “«It’s time to get the party started!»”
Since I have my hands full stacking up my chips, Molly collects up the cards and shuffles while Abe deals from the already prepared pack. I ask her, “«Y-you had the ace, d-didn’t you?»”
“«More than that,»” she replies in an accent that is both charming and difficult to understand. “«I had her Jack of spades too. I’m glad I got out of the way of that one.»”
I dump the next few hands, continuing to watch the players. I don’t get much chance to look at Neko, and Suzu is somewhat screened from me, so I often can’t see her face. Abe doesn’t play many hands. Hisao is pretty good about concealing his thoughts, and it looks like he may have already gotten the lesson about not reacting to the cards hitting the table. He seems to always hold his gaze there a couple seconds, then glance down at his chips. That’s not to say he won’t have other tells, but he has managed to avoid the most common ones. Kenta is an open book, and it’s pretty obvious he’s the sucker at the table. This leaves Molly, and my dear Akira. Both of them seem to throw off signs constantly, but I can’t yet decide what they mean, or if they’re being deceptive. One thing is clear though – this table is not afraid to go big when someone thinks they’ve got it.
An alarm goes off to my right. “«By popular demand, it’s time for intermission. We will resume in ten minutes, if there are six players at the table. If not, then we resume in fifteen. There’s plenty of food left in the fridge.»” Neko pockets her phone as everyone rises from the table.
“Isn’t it cute?” Akira asks me as she joins me for more food and drink. “Eight players, five different accents. It’s Lilly’s nightmare. How long do you want to stay?”
“N-next intermission?”
She nods. “Works for me. Do you know how to make that thing with the burger and the gravy?” I nod, so she continues. “Good. I may want that for breakfast. Nothing like grease to cure a hangover.”
“B-but you haven’t been d-drinking that m-much.”
“Nope, I still have to drive us back. But who said breakfast had to be in the morning?” She gives me a wink.
***
“I don’t really care, they just have to get out of here. I really do appreciate this.” Neko smiles at Akira. “I hope you can get a little bit of cash for them, you deserve something.”
Three heavy contractor bags filled with wine and liquor bottles – where in the world did they come up with all of this? The cellar just isn’t that big.
“I’ll have to put down the back seat for this.” Akira climbs inside and makes the adjustments. “I have to say, you do know how to throw a party, even when it totally gets away from you.”
There’s barely room for my overnight bag behind my seat, and I have a small catering tray to carry on my lap. Neko was only too happy to part with the loco moco fixings when Akira asked for them.
As we pull away, she turns to me and asks, “So how’d you do? I knew better than to ask with the game still in progress. «You never count your money when you're sittin' at the table.»”
“I… w-won a l-little.” I’ll have to remember to give back the starting stake.
“Yeah? So did I, but I’d never make a living at it. I might be able to buy another bottle of bourbon with the winnings.”
Oh, I did better than that. Poor Kenta. I was right, he was the cash machine for the table. I don’t know what he might have posted before we bought in, but he bought in for another twenty thousand over the course of the night. I felt sorry for him, but it didn’t stop me, or anyone else, from taking his money. And Suzu… I picked her pocket, but that’s just how the cards broke tonight. It could easily have gone the other way around. “It s-sure is faster than s-snooker.”
“Snooker? You’ve been hustling billiards too? Damn.”
“N-no… there’s a t-table at the r-ranch, and Suzu only p-plays for m-money.”
“Well doesn’t that just suck. I’d like to see you put on an exhibition, but thanks to that little… family rivalry of ours, there’s no way I could be seen there. Maybe we can get her to come play on neutral territory one of these days.”
That would be nice, or maybe we could all become more than grudging allies, perhaps? I know how deep blood and tradition run here though. “Are we going to d-drop these bottles s-somewhere?”
“Not now, it’s almost three in the morning. I’ll figure out what to do with them whenever it’s time to run you back, or whenever I get tired of having them in the car, whichever comes first – or maybe you can. You need the hours behind the wheel anyhow, right? Besides, we’ll probably add a few dead soldiers of our own to the pile before this weekend is up.” It sounds like we may be in for two days of loco moco breakfasts.
“W-were you s-serious about driving to Hokkaido?” Eight and a half hours each way would not be so bad on a train, but in a car it’s a bit less pleasant.
“You bet your arse. If you do half of it – and sorry, time on the ferry does not count – that’ll be an extra seven hours or so on your log just on the journey, and we’ll also have the car the whole time we’re there. Hakodate is a pretty forgiving place for a new driver to get the hang of navigating in traffic, and for all we know, you may have your license before class starts again. If we took the train, sure it cuts a few hours off each way… but you log no time, I have to rent a car when we get there, and you can’t drive it. This also makes more sense the more people go. Right now it’s just Lilly in the back seat, but the way things were going tonight, that may change. I really hope it does. It would help her to know she has someone to pal around with rather than feeling like she’s stuck in the middle with us.”
That probably would be good for her, but I wonder if Tadao and Mariko have willingly been separated for five days before… or whether we might be cramming both of them in the back seat. Neko told me how astonished she was to see Mariko show up for the anchor leg of the radio contest alone, and that was just four hours. Only time will tell.
Re: "Three Of A Perfect Pair" (Neko, Book 2) Party Time
TADAO
Five days, plus Tanabata itself. While Tanabata is not such a big deal where we come from, Sendai does it big. No, make that huge.
“I do have a few matters to settle before I can leave for any length of time, but I don’t expect there will be any trouble. I would love to accompany you to Tanabata, and to your summer home. I have never been that far north before.” Actually, I’ve never been off this island before. I will have to arrange for someone to look in on Mariko, so there is no repeat of the difficulties that erupted the last time I was separated from her for a time.
“I quite understand. This is short notice for such a long adventure.” I can feel Lilly pull me in a little closer with the arms we are using to mutually guide one another. I just wish I knew whether that’s because we’re both wobbling as we walk, or because she wants to be closer. “I can’t wait for you to see me in a yukata.”
“I’m only marginally more capable of seeing you than you are, but I’ll give it my best shot.” Unless you want me burying my face… umm, never mind, I’ll think about that later. Wait… steps? “Why are we headed into the main building?”
“You said you wanted tea, right? That’s where the tea room is.”
“I thought you were complaining that your flask was empty.” No, I know you were, but I’ll give you some wiggle room. “Perhaps we should have grabbed something from my supply before we left that building.”
“Hmm. Well it’s a bit late now.” I can feel her lean and reach for the door. “Besides, you don’t put good whisky in tea, and I do have something more fitting socked away up there.” She drops my arm and guides me through the door with a hand, then follows behind me as it closes before taking my arm once again.
We take the staircase without conversation, and since she’s the one wielding the cane, she calls ‘level’ at the mezzanine even though I know the stair count as well as she does. When someone exhibits good habits, I don’t complain even if they’re not needed at the moment. Then we’re moving down the hall, and before long we’ve stopped. I can hear her fishing through her purse for keys, then unlocking and opening the door. Once again she guides me through first and follows behind, then leads me to a table.
“Have a seat and make yourself comfortable,” she tells me. “We’re here for tea, not a tea ceremony, so you need not sit on the floor.”
“Do you ever perform the actual tea ceremony?”
“On occasion. It’s best to keep in practice, don’t you think?” She is moving some sort of ceramics or glassware around.
“I have a favor to ask of you then. Hopefully it will not come as much of a burden. Mariko has always wished to perform a proper tea ceremony, but has thus far lacked an instructor. Would you be willing to pass on your knowledge?” Even our mother didn’t know the entire ritual.
“I would be delighted to instruct your sister in the ways of the tea ceremony. Do you think she would take offense at the way we are about to drink our tea?”
I start to chuckle, then suppress it. “Unlikely. In fact, she would be more likely to be offended not to have been invited.”
I can hear a container being pushed across the table, then feel my hand being guided to it. It is a sake glass. “Please sample the secret ingredient and make sure it is to your satisfaction.”
Well, it’s not bad, but… “Blended, and I assume it’s the real thing. Outdated business models prevent Japan from making a truly balanced blended whisky.”
“You are correct.” She pushes a bottle my way, and this time does not feel compelled to guide my hand to it.
I pick it up and hold it close enough to read. “Johnnie Walker Black Label. Ah, I see. If this is what you consider tea quality, your idea of sipping whisky must be rather sophisticated. What was in that flask earlier, before it ran dry?”
“Glenmorangie, 18 year. My tastes run more to Islay, but I certainly won’t turn up my nose at a quality Highland offering. Sadly, what we sipped tonight was the last of what we brought back from our trip to Scotland, and it seems all anyone stocks here is blends.”
“I believe I know who might be able to help you with this little problem. Most importers want to deal in volume, but there are a few who value quality and variety.” They also throw some pretty lavish parties. “Of course, when it comes to single malts, there are actually some quite palatable local alternatives.”
“Imitations,” she says with certainty.
“Technically, yes. By definition, only Scotch whisky is Scotch whisky. But just as there are some Scotch whiskies that are not so good, there are some non-Scotch whiskies that are excellent.” And now my mind is set on proving it to you.
“You had better not present me with bourbon or, worse yet, that bland concoction known as Canadian whiskey.”
“I believe that a country’s liquor speaks to the character of that country as a whole. In the case of Canada, the winters are long and harsh, and people stick together or they die. If you go around offending people, you don’t tend to have a high life expectancy. This is why they bottle politeness.” They should just print the word ‘sorry’ on every bottle.
“If that is so, what does Scotch say about the Scottish?”
“They’re followers of time-tested tradition, but also strive for individuality. They’re rugged, but sensitive. Uncompromising, but practical. You can like what they do, or not, and they will do what they like. That’s why they play bagpipes and wear kilts.”
If we had tea already, I think it would have just shot out her nose. “Your logic is «pants», but I like you anyhow.” The teapot starts whistling. “I figure you will want black tea for this?” she asks as she gets up from the table.
“Quite. Black tea for the Black Label.”
The simplest way to elevate a merely good beverage to excellence is to consume it in the presence of good company. Tea is alright, Black Label makes it somewhat better. It’s the girl who brought me here that makes the moment.
First saucers and then cups are placed on the table, and Lilly hums quietly to herself. I think I’ve heard the tune, but I can’t place it. She clearly knows it inside and out, as she switches between whistling an instrumental part and humming the verse. I’m going nuts trying to recall the name of the song, but don’t wish to interrupt. She pauses long enough to pour into our cups, whisky first, then sugar, then tea from a teapot. I have to imagine she’s far too classy to stick her finger in the cup to know when it fills up, so she must be listening or counting time, or both. For this reason, I remain still and silent.
Once I hear the teapot return to the table, I break my silence. “I swear I knew that song, but I can’t place it and it’s driving me crazy.”
“Hmm? Oh, it’s «Amado Mio,» the «Pink Martini» version in particular. I’ve had it stuck in my head for almost two weeks now. I used to really like it, but it’s wearing a bit thin at this point.”
I still don’t know what song I thought it was, but that’s not it… at least I don’t believe so. I’ll find it when I get back to the room, if I can still remember it by then. The last thing I want to do is force her to hear it for my benefit. As the saucer slides into place in front of me, I feel along the table and locate it. Bringing the cup up to my mouth, I can smell that it’s still hot, but I can’t tell exactly how hot without risking something, and I don’t want all of the alcohol to evaporate. I take a sip, then resort to blowing across the top – silently, I hope, so as not to offend my host.
“I’m glad to find another person here who prefers tea,” she says with a sigh. “Even my best friend prefers coffee, and would make it instead if given her choice. How is it that an entire nation can forget its traditions in just a generation or two?”
I know exactly who she means, there is no need to ask for a name. “It hasn’t been forgotten, it has just become largely ceremonial. You can lay this at the feet of the same people responsible for sub-standard whisky blends.” That means you, Suntory. “Yet I understand that bottled and canned tea is all the rage in America, a place where coffee is their tradition. This would contradict the idea that coffee drinks dominate because tea drinks won’t sell.”
“You seem inclined to study places you’ve never been, a trait you share with my coffee-drinking friend. She takes it a step further though, and adopts their cuisine as well.”
“True, I’ve never been there, but I travel the world by radio as much as possible. It is quite helpful for mastering the English language, as it is unwise to trust the way it is spoken by most locals. I can trust the BBC.” Well, the use of the language at least. They are famous for their pranks on 1 April.
“But radio is a one-way medium. You take, but you never give. How can you consider that akin to traveling?”
“I will answer that, but not tonight. I too have a special hideaway in this school I’d like you to visit.” And maybe to call CQ. You can learn the meaning of ‘pileup’ personally.
Five days, plus Tanabata itself. While Tanabata is not such a big deal where we come from, Sendai does it big. No, make that huge.
“I do have a few matters to settle before I can leave for any length of time, but I don’t expect there will be any trouble. I would love to accompany you to Tanabata, and to your summer home. I have never been that far north before.” Actually, I’ve never been off this island before. I will have to arrange for someone to look in on Mariko, so there is no repeat of the difficulties that erupted the last time I was separated from her for a time.
“I quite understand. This is short notice for such a long adventure.” I can feel Lilly pull me in a little closer with the arms we are using to mutually guide one another. I just wish I knew whether that’s because we’re both wobbling as we walk, or because she wants to be closer. “I can’t wait for you to see me in a yukata.”
“I’m only marginally more capable of seeing you than you are, but I’ll give it my best shot.” Unless you want me burying my face… umm, never mind, I’ll think about that later. Wait… steps? “Why are we headed into the main building?”
“You said you wanted tea, right? That’s where the tea room is.”
“I thought you were complaining that your flask was empty.” No, I know you were, but I’ll give you some wiggle room. “Perhaps we should have grabbed something from my supply before we left that building.”
“Hmm. Well it’s a bit late now.” I can feel her lean and reach for the door. “Besides, you don’t put good whisky in tea, and I do have something more fitting socked away up there.” She drops my arm and guides me through the door with a hand, then follows behind me as it closes before taking my arm once again.
We take the staircase without conversation, and since she’s the one wielding the cane, she calls ‘level’ at the mezzanine even though I know the stair count as well as she does. When someone exhibits good habits, I don’t complain even if they’re not needed at the moment. Then we’re moving down the hall, and before long we’ve stopped. I can hear her fishing through her purse for keys, then unlocking and opening the door. Once again she guides me through first and follows behind, then leads me to a table.
“Have a seat and make yourself comfortable,” she tells me. “We’re here for tea, not a tea ceremony, so you need not sit on the floor.”
“Do you ever perform the actual tea ceremony?”
“On occasion. It’s best to keep in practice, don’t you think?” She is moving some sort of ceramics or glassware around.
“I have a favor to ask of you then. Hopefully it will not come as much of a burden. Mariko has always wished to perform a proper tea ceremony, but has thus far lacked an instructor. Would you be willing to pass on your knowledge?” Even our mother didn’t know the entire ritual.
“I would be delighted to instruct your sister in the ways of the tea ceremony. Do you think she would take offense at the way we are about to drink our tea?”
I start to chuckle, then suppress it. “Unlikely. In fact, she would be more likely to be offended not to have been invited.”
I can hear a container being pushed across the table, then feel my hand being guided to it. It is a sake glass. “Please sample the secret ingredient and make sure it is to your satisfaction.”
Well, it’s not bad, but… “Blended, and I assume it’s the real thing. Outdated business models prevent Japan from making a truly balanced blended whisky.”
“You are correct.” She pushes a bottle my way, and this time does not feel compelled to guide my hand to it.
I pick it up and hold it close enough to read. “Johnnie Walker Black Label. Ah, I see. If this is what you consider tea quality, your idea of sipping whisky must be rather sophisticated. What was in that flask earlier, before it ran dry?”
“Glenmorangie, 18 year. My tastes run more to Islay, but I certainly won’t turn up my nose at a quality Highland offering. Sadly, what we sipped tonight was the last of what we brought back from our trip to Scotland, and it seems all anyone stocks here is blends.”
“I believe I know who might be able to help you with this little problem. Most importers want to deal in volume, but there are a few who value quality and variety.” They also throw some pretty lavish parties. “Of course, when it comes to single malts, there are actually some quite palatable local alternatives.”
“Imitations,” she says with certainty.
“Technically, yes. By definition, only Scotch whisky is Scotch whisky. But just as there are some Scotch whiskies that are not so good, there are some non-Scotch whiskies that are excellent.” And now my mind is set on proving it to you.
“You had better not present me with bourbon or, worse yet, that bland concoction known as Canadian whiskey.”
“I believe that a country’s liquor speaks to the character of that country as a whole. In the case of Canada, the winters are long and harsh, and people stick together or they die. If you go around offending people, you don’t tend to have a high life expectancy. This is why they bottle politeness.” They should just print the word ‘sorry’ on every bottle.
“If that is so, what does Scotch say about the Scottish?”
“They’re followers of time-tested tradition, but also strive for individuality. They’re rugged, but sensitive. Uncompromising, but practical. You can like what they do, or not, and they will do what they like. That’s why they play bagpipes and wear kilts.”
If we had tea already, I think it would have just shot out her nose. “Your logic is «pants», but I like you anyhow.” The teapot starts whistling. “I figure you will want black tea for this?” she asks as she gets up from the table.
“Quite. Black tea for the Black Label.”
The simplest way to elevate a merely good beverage to excellence is to consume it in the presence of good company. Tea is alright, Black Label makes it somewhat better. It’s the girl who brought me here that makes the moment.
First saucers and then cups are placed on the table, and Lilly hums quietly to herself. I think I’ve heard the tune, but I can’t place it. She clearly knows it inside and out, as she switches between whistling an instrumental part and humming the verse. I’m going nuts trying to recall the name of the song, but don’t wish to interrupt. She pauses long enough to pour into our cups, whisky first, then sugar, then tea from a teapot. I have to imagine she’s far too classy to stick her finger in the cup to know when it fills up, so she must be listening or counting time, or both. For this reason, I remain still and silent.
Once I hear the teapot return to the table, I break my silence. “I swear I knew that song, but I can’t place it and it’s driving me crazy.”
“Hmm? Oh, it’s «Amado Mio,» the «Pink Martini» version in particular. I’ve had it stuck in my head for almost two weeks now. I used to really like it, but it’s wearing a bit thin at this point.”
I still don’t know what song I thought it was, but that’s not it… at least I don’t believe so. I’ll find it when I get back to the room, if I can still remember it by then. The last thing I want to do is force her to hear it for my benefit. As the saucer slides into place in front of me, I feel along the table and locate it. Bringing the cup up to my mouth, I can smell that it’s still hot, but I can’t tell exactly how hot without risking something, and I don’t want all of the alcohol to evaporate. I take a sip, then resort to blowing across the top – silently, I hope, so as not to offend my host.
“I’m glad to find another person here who prefers tea,” she says with a sigh. “Even my best friend prefers coffee, and would make it instead if given her choice. How is it that an entire nation can forget its traditions in just a generation or two?”
I know exactly who she means, there is no need to ask for a name. “It hasn’t been forgotten, it has just become largely ceremonial. You can lay this at the feet of the same people responsible for sub-standard whisky blends.” That means you, Suntory. “Yet I understand that bottled and canned tea is all the rage in America, a place where coffee is their tradition. This would contradict the idea that coffee drinks dominate because tea drinks won’t sell.”
“You seem inclined to study places you’ve never been, a trait you share with my coffee-drinking friend. She takes it a step further though, and adopts their cuisine as well.”
“True, I’ve never been there, but I travel the world by radio as much as possible. It is quite helpful for mastering the English language, as it is unwise to trust the way it is spoken by most locals. I can trust the BBC.” Well, the use of the language at least. They are famous for their pranks on 1 April.
“But radio is a one-way medium. You take, but you never give. How can you consider that akin to traveling?”
“I will answer that, but not tonight. I too have a special hideaway in this school I’d like you to visit.” And maybe to call CQ. You can learn the meaning of ‘pileup’ personally.
Last edited by NekoDude on Tue Sep 02, 2014 10:10 am, edited 1 time in total.
Re: "Three Of A Perfect Pair" (Neko, Book 2) Walk this Way
SUZU
“Are you comfortable, babe? Once I’m out… well, you know.” I don’t have to explain my sleeping habits to my boyfriend.
“Mmm hmm,” he murmurs, cradled in front of me. He’s just the perfect height right now. One day in the not too distant future he will probably tower over me, but right now I like him just the way he is. I feel him shift around a little, then I can hear his breathing slow down. He’s out already. I guess he did have to work pretty hard to keep up, that was quite some party.
He didn’t even try to make a move on me. Ah well, we’ll still have the morning, or the noon, as the case may be. I stretch, yawn once, and settle into place. I blink, and light is streaming through the window. I sit up to reach for my alarm clock – not that alarms do me a lot of good – and an arm reaches back to pull me down.
“Nooo, don’t go,” he protests. “You’re warm.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Oh wait.” I feel an urgent need to visit the restroom. “Maybe I am, but I’ll be right back.” I check the clock I failed to reach before. Nine-thirty. We missed breakfast.
I divert on the way back from the restroom to see if there are still leftovers in this building’s fridge, only to find I’m far from the only one with such a notion. “Hey,” I say to the assembled crowd, huddled around the open containers on the table, “save some for me and the chef.” I needn’t have worried. I make a couple plates and pop them in the microwave, since everyone else seems to just be eating theirs cold. While waiting, I glance around. There seem to be some newly minted couples, or at least new to the public eye. I add a lump of macaroni salad to each plate afterward, and head back to the room.
“It’s never too early for Engrish,” Abe says as he gestures at my nightshirt. I guess it’s getting on laundry time if I’m down to wearing «SO HAPPY DAY» again.
“It’s also never too early for your father’s cooking, so here.” I pass him a plate and some utensils as I take a seat beside him on the bed. The napkins I just put on my knee for both of us.
“Shit!” He quickly picks up a dropped bit of teriyaki beef, and swabs at the sauce spot with a napkin.
“Don’t worry about it. I was kind of hoping you’d be staying for a while. It’s laundry day, maybe we can find another way to mess up the sheets first.”
His blush seems to indicate that he got the point, and we both set to eating that much faster.
He too has to sneak off for a restroom visit, and this requires a trip across the courtyard unless I want to post guard on our shared one here. I let him wander off, reasonably confident he’ll be coming back, and this gives me time to down the first capsule of my daily ration and dispose of our plates. It takes a bit longer than I expected though, and I find myself with time to kill. I open a can of warm coffee, and sip while considering my next move.
«Backstroke lover always hidin' 'neath the cover
'Till I talked to my daddy he say
He said, "You ain't seen nothin’
'Till you're down on a muffin
Then you're sure to be a-changin' your ways"»
My phone rings, jarring me out of my daydream. It’s Neko, so I answer.
“Sorry to detain your boytoy, love, but he saw that we were up and asked if it would be alright if he grabbed a shower. He’ll be along in a bit.”
Up already, or still? I suppose it doesn’t matter. I can’t say that a shower would be a bad idea for me either, especially if I take this in the desired direction. “Should I come join him?”
“No! We haven’t even broken in the shower properly, so I can’t let someone else fuck in it first. Bloody hell.”
Alrighty then. “In that case, just let him know I’m going to grab a shower myself, and not to rush.”
The shower feels good, and I feel a little more pretty when I step out. Though I’m not worried about scaring him off – he’s seen me a lot worse than I was this morning – I do want to give him the best possible first impression… or at least I hope it will be his first.
«See-saw swingin' with the boys in the school
With your feet flyin' up in the air
Singin' hey diddle-diddle with the kitty in the middle
You be swingin' like you just didn't care»
Back in my room, still slightly damp, I let myself air dry in the still-cool morning breeze coming through the window. It’s going to be warm again, but not just yet. I hear a tapping, tapping at my chamber door, and quickly tie up the sash on my bathrobe. I open the door to reveal Abe, dressed in some borrowed clothing. He looks slightly embarrassed, as it is all intended for someone about ten centimeters taller.
“Oh babe, get inside and we’ll do something about those ill-fitting clothes.” Like, remove them. The moment the door is closed, I start to liberate what I presume to be Hisao’s clothes. Closing the window seems like a good move as well. “Do you know how to make a girl happy, really happy? I think it’s time you learned.” I untie the sash and let the bathrobe slip to the floor.
«Walk this way, walk this way
Walk this way, walk this way
Ah, just give me a kiss, like this!»
It takes a little coaching, but he seems to be enjoying it. I know I certainly am. If it weren’t for a pillow clutched to my face, I’d give Hanako a contest for loud. And such enthusiasm! I have to finally push him away.
“Enough, at least for the moment! You’re turning my brain to jelly.” One last flick of the tongue tells me he already knew. He pulls up next to me, and I can feel him grinding into my thigh.
“Umm, he seems to have woken up on his own,” he says sheepishly.
“No need to apologize, I’m glad to see you were having fun as well. I think it’s time to show you what happy girls do.”
“Are you comfortable, babe? Once I’m out… well, you know.” I don’t have to explain my sleeping habits to my boyfriend.
“Mmm hmm,” he murmurs, cradled in front of me. He’s just the perfect height right now. One day in the not too distant future he will probably tower over me, but right now I like him just the way he is. I feel him shift around a little, then I can hear his breathing slow down. He’s out already. I guess he did have to work pretty hard to keep up, that was quite some party.
He didn’t even try to make a move on me. Ah well, we’ll still have the morning, or the noon, as the case may be. I stretch, yawn once, and settle into place. I blink, and light is streaming through the window. I sit up to reach for my alarm clock – not that alarms do me a lot of good – and an arm reaches back to pull me down.
“Nooo, don’t go,” he protests. “You’re warm.”
“I’m not going anywhere. Oh wait.” I feel an urgent need to visit the restroom. “Maybe I am, but I’ll be right back.” I check the clock I failed to reach before. Nine-thirty. We missed breakfast.
I divert on the way back from the restroom to see if there are still leftovers in this building’s fridge, only to find I’m far from the only one with such a notion. “Hey,” I say to the assembled crowd, huddled around the open containers on the table, “save some for me and the chef.” I needn’t have worried. I make a couple plates and pop them in the microwave, since everyone else seems to just be eating theirs cold. While waiting, I glance around. There seem to be some newly minted couples, or at least new to the public eye. I add a lump of macaroni salad to each plate afterward, and head back to the room.
“It’s never too early for Engrish,” Abe says as he gestures at my nightshirt. I guess it’s getting on laundry time if I’m down to wearing «SO HAPPY DAY» again.
“It’s also never too early for your father’s cooking, so here.” I pass him a plate and some utensils as I take a seat beside him on the bed. The napkins I just put on my knee for both of us.
“Shit!” He quickly picks up a dropped bit of teriyaki beef, and swabs at the sauce spot with a napkin.
“Don’t worry about it. I was kind of hoping you’d be staying for a while. It’s laundry day, maybe we can find another way to mess up the sheets first.”
His blush seems to indicate that he got the point, and we both set to eating that much faster.
He too has to sneak off for a restroom visit, and this requires a trip across the courtyard unless I want to post guard on our shared one here. I let him wander off, reasonably confident he’ll be coming back, and this gives me time to down the first capsule of my daily ration and dispose of our plates. It takes a bit longer than I expected though, and I find myself with time to kill. I open a can of warm coffee, and sip while considering my next move.
«Backstroke lover always hidin' 'neath the cover
'Till I talked to my daddy he say
He said, "You ain't seen nothin’
'Till you're down on a muffin
Then you're sure to be a-changin' your ways"»
My phone rings, jarring me out of my daydream. It’s Neko, so I answer.
“Sorry to detain your boytoy, love, but he saw that we were up and asked if it would be alright if he grabbed a shower. He’ll be along in a bit.”
Up already, or still? I suppose it doesn’t matter. I can’t say that a shower would be a bad idea for me either, especially if I take this in the desired direction. “Should I come join him?”
“No! We haven’t even broken in the shower properly, so I can’t let someone else fuck in it first. Bloody hell.”
Alrighty then. “In that case, just let him know I’m going to grab a shower myself, and not to rush.”
The shower feels good, and I feel a little more pretty when I step out. Though I’m not worried about scaring him off – he’s seen me a lot worse than I was this morning – I do want to give him the best possible first impression… or at least I hope it will be his first.
«See-saw swingin' with the boys in the school
With your feet flyin' up in the air
Singin' hey diddle-diddle with the kitty in the middle
You be swingin' like you just didn't care»
Back in my room, still slightly damp, I let myself air dry in the still-cool morning breeze coming through the window. It’s going to be warm again, but not just yet. I hear a tapping, tapping at my chamber door, and quickly tie up the sash on my bathrobe. I open the door to reveal Abe, dressed in some borrowed clothing. He looks slightly embarrassed, as it is all intended for someone about ten centimeters taller.
“Oh babe, get inside and we’ll do something about those ill-fitting clothes.” Like, remove them. The moment the door is closed, I start to liberate what I presume to be Hisao’s clothes. Closing the window seems like a good move as well. “Do you know how to make a girl happy, really happy? I think it’s time you learned.” I untie the sash and let the bathrobe slip to the floor.
«Walk this way, walk this way
Walk this way, walk this way
Ah, just give me a kiss, like this!»
It takes a little coaching, but he seems to be enjoying it. I know I certainly am. If it weren’t for a pillow clutched to my face, I’d give Hanako a contest for loud. And such enthusiasm! I have to finally push him away.
“Enough, at least for the moment! You’re turning my brain to jelly.” One last flick of the tongue tells me he already knew. He pulls up next to me, and I can feel him grinding into my thigh.
“Umm, he seems to have woken up on his own,” he says sheepishly.
“No need to apologize, I’m glad to see you were having fun as well. I think it’s time to show you what happy girls do.”
Re: "Three Of A Perfect Pair" (Neko, Book 2) Reverse Bukkake
NEKO
“Yaah!” I shout. I’m not even trying to be quiet. It’s his shower, and we have the place to ourselves. To hell with squeaking. The shower is small but adequate, and we’re still making do with the original shower head for the moment, but the warm water feels good. There’s more of it than at home as well, as long as I don’t want my shower right before class like everyone else.
“Gurrh!” he replies. Our idea of ‘talking dirty’ is pretty caveman. He follows up with “Uhh… Ah! Ow!” Sorry about the claws, love. I make up for it by doing a little trick I learned while researching online, and grip him in ways he probably hadn’t imagined possible before he met me. He only gets one shot, but at least I can stretch it out as long as possible.
I can see his eyes roll back as he separates from me and slides to the floor. I hop off my little plastic stool and start to join him, but he puts up a hand to stop me, shaking his head for emphasis. I grab his hand, and he pulls me in tight with the other, also supporting some of my weight as he pulls me toward a position where I will be unable to balance alone. I give in. If he can breathe like that, great. If not, I guess I’m about to get bitten again.
It seems he thought this through. I wonder how he determined this was safe, but right now, I have other things on my mind – things like his tongue. I start to slouch, driving into his face harder, but he slaps me gently on the thigh a few times. I guess I’m going to have to keep my knee from buckling – easier said than done. At least this shower has handrails to hold onto and lean on, and I really do need to hold on.
I’m not even there yet, and I’m having considerable difficulty keeping my knee locked. Keeping a strong grip is quite a bit easier by comparison, and between the two I’m able to take the remaining weight off of his hands. He promptly uses this opportunity to fill both hands with my backside, and it takes me a while to notice that there is a fingertip at the back door. Knocking is one thing, but entering without being invited is another matter entirely, and I tense up.
“Nonononono… do not go there.” I don’t blame him for not asking, but that needs to stop. “You can play outside but please don’t go in.” I’m not afraid, it just isn’t a sensation I like. It can range anywhere from awkward to downright painful, and has never been pleasant. He backs off, and I relax.
It takes maybe half a minute to make up the ground we just lost, and go flying past it. Everything builds up in a rush, and I can hear the blood pumping behind my ears. I close my eyes and let my head roll back as waves of warm water run down my chest and waves of cold electric pleasure run up my spine.
“Yaah! Aah!” is my way of saying ‘all is forgiven.’ If not for the overhead bar, I’d be smothering him. Instead, I… squirt? I feel perhaps half a dozen involuntary contractions, peaking around the third, before my quim settles into a fluttery quiver. “Na… na, na…” I babble, unable to find the words.
It doesn’t matter, he still stops. “«Batman?»” he queries, as a space opens between us and he lets me slip away. I shift my hold to a waist-level bar and lower myself to the floor in front of him, water falling in a ring around my head. “Sorry I, um…” He stares at the palm of his hand momentarily.
“No harm done. It’s just… not my thing.” You’re not the first to try, Miki likes to target brown eyes as well. From here, the water is less than warm now. I start to reach around his head with my leg to try to turn off the water, and only get a waffle-print on my back from the drain for my efforts. I move to one corner before the shower basin has time to fill with much water. Only then do I notice that it appears I have blown a load across his chin and chest. He stands and calmly showers to wash off my shower, or his shower. Whatever. I start giggling at the thought.
“Huh?” he asks while soaping up again. “What’s so funny?”
It’s difficult for me to cover my mouth and point simultaneously, at least in any intelligible way, so I do them sequentially. “Reverse bukkake.” My giggles become chuckles.
“Oh, yeah, that. At least you chose the right place to break out that new stunt.” He is even washing his hair again. I can’t tell whether this is actually necessary, or merely precautionary. Once I’ve overcome my case of jelly leg, I stand beside him and get a quick rinse of my own before he turns off the rapidly cooling water.
Stepping out, there are two identical towels hanging from another handrail on the wall. “How do I know which one is mine?” I ask, gesturing at them in sort of a juggling motion.
“Who cares? Grab the dry one, you have a lot more hair than I do.”
I grab the nearer towel and throw it over my arm, then grab the other, deciding the first is the more dry of the two. I pass the second one back over my shoulder and start to dry off my hair. “Have you thought of something to do to pass the time in town?” I ask while I rub and squeeze. “I don’t expect you to just sit and wait. It’ll probably take a couple hours at least.” I also doubt they’ll want you hanging around and watching.
“Umm, yeah actually. If it’s alright with you, I planned to meet up with a friend from before my… event. She’ll be in town to take a good look at Tohoku University, and…”
“She, huh?” I elbow him in the side. “Is she cute?”
“Uhh… yeah, I suppose.” At least he’s not inclined to lie about it. “But it’s not like that, she…”
“Oh relax. How many times have I said it’s healthy for you to have other friends? Besides, if she feels like waiting long enough, you can bring her around when I get out of my appointment. Maybe I can talk her into telling me an embarrassing story about you.”
There’s a moment of silence before he answers quietly. “Yeah, probably. I still kinda hope she doesn’t though.”
“Don’t worry, you’ve got plenty you can tell about me.” You’re probably more embarrassed by them than I am, though. “What we just did might qualify, right?”
“I don’t think that would be… appropriate.” I can feel his frown even with my back turned.
“Well you need to tell her something to let her know I’m human and not some dream waifu from a dating sim, or she won’t want to meet me.” I spin around and toss the towel over the overhead grab bar, as they dry somewhat faster up there than hanging against the wall. I also happen to give him a face full of jiggle, as he’s somewhat bent over to dry off. Then, leaning on the edge of the counter as my ‘right step,’ I make my way out of the restroom.
Now he has me wondering – who is this mysterious friend from his old life? I grab my leg and toss it to the base of the bed before following it and crawling under the covers. I don’t recall him even naming one of his old friends… but wait, there was the day in the rain, when Miki tried to screw me over, and he got upset at me for reading the letter. Is it her? Is that why he’s being so non-specific?
I hope he knows by now that I trust his judgement on these matters. If he had any questionable motives, why tell me about her at all? I hope he doesn’t run her off thinking I’ll be jealous. I want to meet people he knew before, just as he has met many people I knew before.
Who knows, maybe she has lesbotic tendencies.
“Yaah!” I shout. I’m not even trying to be quiet. It’s his shower, and we have the place to ourselves. To hell with squeaking. The shower is small but adequate, and we’re still making do with the original shower head for the moment, but the warm water feels good. There’s more of it than at home as well, as long as I don’t want my shower right before class like everyone else.
“Gurrh!” he replies. Our idea of ‘talking dirty’ is pretty caveman. He follows up with “Uhh… Ah! Ow!” Sorry about the claws, love. I make up for it by doing a little trick I learned while researching online, and grip him in ways he probably hadn’t imagined possible before he met me. He only gets one shot, but at least I can stretch it out as long as possible.
I can see his eyes roll back as he separates from me and slides to the floor. I hop off my little plastic stool and start to join him, but he puts up a hand to stop me, shaking his head for emphasis. I grab his hand, and he pulls me in tight with the other, also supporting some of my weight as he pulls me toward a position where I will be unable to balance alone. I give in. If he can breathe like that, great. If not, I guess I’m about to get bitten again.
It seems he thought this through. I wonder how he determined this was safe, but right now, I have other things on my mind – things like his tongue. I start to slouch, driving into his face harder, but he slaps me gently on the thigh a few times. I guess I’m going to have to keep my knee from buckling – easier said than done. At least this shower has handrails to hold onto and lean on, and I really do need to hold on.
I’m not even there yet, and I’m having considerable difficulty keeping my knee locked. Keeping a strong grip is quite a bit easier by comparison, and between the two I’m able to take the remaining weight off of his hands. He promptly uses this opportunity to fill both hands with my backside, and it takes me a while to notice that there is a fingertip at the back door. Knocking is one thing, but entering without being invited is another matter entirely, and I tense up.
“Nonononono… do not go there.” I don’t blame him for not asking, but that needs to stop. “You can play outside but please don’t go in.” I’m not afraid, it just isn’t a sensation I like. It can range anywhere from awkward to downright painful, and has never been pleasant. He backs off, and I relax.
It takes maybe half a minute to make up the ground we just lost, and go flying past it. Everything builds up in a rush, and I can hear the blood pumping behind my ears. I close my eyes and let my head roll back as waves of warm water run down my chest and waves of cold electric pleasure run up my spine.
“Yaah! Aah!” is my way of saying ‘all is forgiven.’ If not for the overhead bar, I’d be smothering him. Instead, I… squirt? I feel perhaps half a dozen involuntary contractions, peaking around the third, before my quim settles into a fluttery quiver. “Na… na, na…” I babble, unable to find the words.
It doesn’t matter, he still stops. “«Batman?»” he queries, as a space opens between us and he lets me slip away. I shift my hold to a waist-level bar and lower myself to the floor in front of him, water falling in a ring around my head. “Sorry I, um…” He stares at the palm of his hand momentarily.
“No harm done. It’s just… not my thing.” You’re not the first to try, Miki likes to target brown eyes as well. From here, the water is less than warm now. I start to reach around his head with my leg to try to turn off the water, and only get a waffle-print on my back from the drain for my efforts. I move to one corner before the shower basin has time to fill with much water. Only then do I notice that it appears I have blown a load across his chin and chest. He stands and calmly showers to wash off my shower, or his shower. Whatever. I start giggling at the thought.
“Huh?” he asks while soaping up again. “What’s so funny?”
It’s difficult for me to cover my mouth and point simultaneously, at least in any intelligible way, so I do them sequentially. “Reverse bukkake.” My giggles become chuckles.
“Oh, yeah, that. At least you chose the right place to break out that new stunt.” He is even washing his hair again. I can’t tell whether this is actually necessary, or merely precautionary. Once I’ve overcome my case of jelly leg, I stand beside him and get a quick rinse of my own before he turns off the rapidly cooling water.
Stepping out, there are two identical towels hanging from another handrail on the wall. “How do I know which one is mine?” I ask, gesturing at them in sort of a juggling motion.
“Who cares? Grab the dry one, you have a lot more hair than I do.”
I grab the nearer towel and throw it over my arm, then grab the other, deciding the first is the more dry of the two. I pass the second one back over my shoulder and start to dry off my hair. “Have you thought of something to do to pass the time in town?” I ask while I rub and squeeze. “I don’t expect you to just sit and wait. It’ll probably take a couple hours at least.” I also doubt they’ll want you hanging around and watching.
“Umm, yeah actually. If it’s alright with you, I planned to meet up with a friend from before my… event. She’ll be in town to take a good look at Tohoku University, and…”
“She, huh?” I elbow him in the side. “Is she cute?”
“Uhh… yeah, I suppose.” At least he’s not inclined to lie about it. “But it’s not like that, she…”
“Oh relax. How many times have I said it’s healthy for you to have other friends? Besides, if she feels like waiting long enough, you can bring her around when I get out of my appointment. Maybe I can talk her into telling me an embarrassing story about you.”
There’s a moment of silence before he answers quietly. “Yeah, probably. I still kinda hope she doesn’t though.”
“Don’t worry, you’ve got plenty you can tell about me.” You’re probably more embarrassed by them than I am, though. “What we just did might qualify, right?”
“I don’t think that would be… appropriate.” I can feel his frown even with my back turned.
“Well you need to tell her something to let her know I’m human and not some dream waifu from a dating sim, or she won’t want to meet me.” I spin around and toss the towel over the overhead grab bar, as they dry somewhat faster up there than hanging against the wall. I also happen to give him a face full of jiggle, as he’s somewhat bent over to dry off. Then, leaning on the edge of the counter as my ‘right step,’ I make my way out of the restroom.
Now he has me wondering – who is this mysterious friend from his old life? I grab my leg and toss it to the base of the bed before following it and crawling under the covers. I don’t recall him even naming one of his old friends… but wait, there was the day in the rain, when Miki tried to screw me over, and he got upset at me for reading the letter. Is it her? Is that why he’s being so non-specific?
I hope he knows by now that I trust his judgement on these matters. If he had any questionable motives, why tell me about her at all? I hope he doesn’t run her off thinking I’ll be jealous. I want to meet people he knew before, just as he has met many people I knew before.
Who knows, maybe she has lesbotic tendencies.
Re: "Three Of A Perfect Pair" (Neko, Book 2) Enter Iwanako
HISAO
“A girlfriend? I’m glad to see things have gone well for you, Hisao, I really am. How serious are things between you?” I try to read Iwanako’s smile for sincerity, but can’t really pick up anything one way or the other, and I realize I never really did know her all that well despite our time together.
“Well, we umm… sort of live together. I guess you could say that’s pretty serious.”
“They let you share a room with a girl?” She looks equal parts amused and concerned.
“Not so much let us, as pretend not to notice. She’s friends with the chief of security, and thus gets away with… a lot.” More than I’m comfortable discussing.
She just nods and squeezes an edamame pod until the beans pop out, tossing them into her mouth as they do. After she has chewed a socially acceptable amount, she swallows and continues. “So, tell me something about her. No, scratch that. Tell me the single most important thing you think I should know about her.”
I don’t have to think very hard about that one. “Well, she’s smarter than me, even if a lot of the time she doesn’t act that way.”
Iwanako laughs hard enough to think it worth covering her mouth. “You always were too honest for your own good.”
“Funny, her mother says the same thing about her.” I pour us some more tea, and retrieve my phone from my pocket. After a bit of searching, I pull up a picture and show it to her.
“Green eyes? Interesting. She doesn’t otherwise look like a foreigner. What’s she doing?” She taps the microphone in the image on the screen.
“We were participating in a radio contest, so most likely she’s talking to a complete stranger while I’m supposed to type his information into a computer. Technically, she’s not a foreigner, but she also kind of is. I mean, she was born here, but grew up overseas.”
“Radio contest? You mean like giving away free tickets to the fourteenth caller or something?”
It’s my turn to laugh. “No, not like that, although that sounds like fun too. This was amateur radio, trying to contact as many other radio operators as possible in a certain span of time. In our case, it was twenty-seven hours.”
Her eyes widen. “Tw-twenty-seven hours? In a row?”
“Oh! It wasn’t just the two of us, it was the entire radio club for the school – which happens to include that chief of security I mentioned earlier. We took it in four-hour shifts, two people at a time. It wasn’t easy, but it was manageable.”
“Have the two of you given much thought to what you’re going to do after graduation? I mean, if it’s serious…” She bites her lip a bit, unsure how to proceed.
“Yeah, a little bit. I mean, she’s only a second-year and doesn’t have to worry about it just yet, but if I follow the most logical options that have been laid in front of me, I’ll probably be staying in the area myself – presuming Tohoku accepts me, of course. Chemistry seems both right up my alley, and highly marketable. She plans on pursuing engineering and could well end up at Tohoku herself.”
I see her eyes widen again, and it’s a while before she speaks. “She’s more foreign than I thought, at least in attitude. Engineering is simply not something most girls are willing to contemplate. It’s much too male-dominated, much too chauvinistic.”
“You may be right. She has little fear of failing to conform to prescribed gender roles, that’s for sure. What direction are you planning on going yourself?”
“Linguistics, with an emphasis on dead languages. Do you have any idea how much ancient literature still exists but is largely untranslated? It’s quite a travesty, and it’s something I seem to be good at.”
“«Bloody hell.»” I can see her flinch at my words. “«Don’t tell me I have yet another friend that speaks better English than I do.»” At this, she relaxes and cracks a smile.
She leans in and drops to a near-whisper. “«Enough not to say ‘bloody hell’ in polite company, at least.»” She seems to have the ‘proper’ accent I hear listening to the BBC. “«Then again, Aussies aren’t exactly famous for their politeness.»”
Our meals arrive, and conversation slows. “How did you know she’s Australian?” I finally ask.
“I didn’t. I just knew that whoever has been teaching you English, is. I’m sure she means well, but it might be in your best interests to, well, lose the accent.” She waves a piece of fish cake around as if this somehow clarifies her point.
“My English teacher said much the same thing, but considering how hard a time I was having with it before, I’m much better off now. I’d rather be mistaken for an Australian speaking English than seen as Japanese. At least then people will assume I have some grasp of the language and not expect me to devolve into «Engrish».”
“«All your base are belong to us.»”
“Exactly. At least Australian is a recognized, valid dialect.”
We return to eating quietly for several minutes, then my phone chimes with an incoming message. I take a glance at it: ‘They finally got around to taking a casting. Still haven’t seen the master.’
I send back a response: ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure this will all be worth it. Take whatever time you need.’
“Was that her?”
I nod. “Things are taking longer than she had hoped – but not necessarily longer than she expected. It’s a bit of a miracle she was able to get an appointment on short notice at all, it usually takes months. She can survive another hour or two.”
This draws a look of concern from Iwanako. “You’re sure she doesn’t need you right now? I’d hate to be the one to come between you.”
I smile and wave it off. “She’s fine. It’s not like she can’t walk or anything. She just wants a better leg, one more suited for cycling. It’s not like they’ll be able to make it today anyhow.”
“Wait… what’s wrong with her leg?”
“The one she has chafes her skin when she tries to ride a bicycle too hard, so she arranged a meeting with the prosthetist of the fastest girl on our track team, to get one that fits better.”
“Is this a common problem at your school, people missing the odd limb here and there?” She looks at me with a bit of confusion.
“You didn’t know? That’s pretty much what the school is for, students with special medical needs or physical disabilities. She’d be the first to tell you she doesn’t need any special treatment though. It’s really quite amazing how little two missing limbs seem to slow her down.”
“Two?”
I pull up another picture on my phone, taken at the housewarming party, where Neko is doing her typical gesticulating with one invisible hand, and has a drink in the other, visible one.
“Poor girl. That must be incredibly difficult.”
“Apparently it’s not, at least for someone born that way. She says that the only reason she’s even at Yamaku is political, that she’d do just fine anywhere. She considers not being able to see or not being able to hear to be far worse a fate in life than that which she faces. After watching her in action these past months, I can see her point. You will too, once you get a chance to meet her.”
“Don’t you think she’ll be…” She trails off again, hesitant to use words she considers impolite. It’s a habit of hers I’d completely forgotten, considering how foreign the entire concept is to most of my new friends.
“Jealous? Heavens, no. She’s much happier that I’m out sharing a meal with a friend than sitting around in the lobby, moping about and waiting for her to finish her consultation. She knows who you are, I’m not hiding anything from her.”
At this point, both of us are doing little more than picking at our remaining food. I sneak a glance, and she’s down to rice and salad, just as I am. I guess she was happy enough with our mutual selection of restaurant. A waiter comes around with the bill, and I grab it, although she tries as well. I slip the debit card inside and place it on the edge of the table.
“Are you in the mood for a walk, or would you rather let the food settle?” I recall the place Neko and I went for coffee on the day of the license test, which is not more than a block or two away. “I know a good place for coffee and sweets.”
“Coffee sounds appealing, but I don’t think I could eat any more.”
I hadn’t realized the waiter was within earshot, and she probably didn’t either. He picks up the check and makes a quick notation. “Two coffees, on the way.” He bows at us as he leaves, and a busboy quickly arrives to take our plates away. Almost as quickly, we’re presented with not just coffee, but fancy coffee, topped with whipped cream and drizzles of chocolate.
Iwanako giggles. As soon as the waiter is gone, she whispers to me. “I think he thinks we’re on a date.” She stirs the cream and chocolate into her glass.
I think back on the way we’ve been talking and acting. While we haven’t been as over-the-top affectionate as a typical date between Neko and me, we have been rather comfortable. Any lingering awkwardness between us at the start of the day has evaporated by now. I could see why someone watching from a distance might think we were on a date. “I think you’re right.” The feeling of being watched has suddenly become somewhat oppressive. I stir my coffee together as well, and when the checkbook comes back with the receipt, I quickly sign their copy. “Has it gotten a bit chilly in here?”
“On the contrary, it’s gotten a bit too warm for my liking.” She still gets the gist of my question though, and we head out. “Where to next?”
I fire off another message. ‘How much time do we need to burn?’
The reply comes rather quickly. ‘At least an hour.’
I turn back to Iwanako. “So, how would you feel about some air hockey?”
-----------------
NEXT CHAPTER
“A girlfriend? I’m glad to see things have gone well for you, Hisao, I really am. How serious are things between you?” I try to read Iwanako’s smile for sincerity, but can’t really pick up anything one way or the other, and I realize I never really did know her all that well despite our time together.
“Well, we umm… sort of live together. I guess you could say that’s pretty serious.”
“They let you share a room with a girl?” She looks equal parts amused and concerned.
“Not so much let us, as pretend not to notice. She’s friends with the chief of security, and thus gets away with… a lot.” More than I’m comfortable discussing.
She just nods and squeezes an edamame pod until the beans pop out, tossing them into her mouth as they do. After she has chewed a socially acceptable amount, she swallows and continues. “So, tell me something about her. No, scratch that. Tell me the single most important thing you think I should know about her.”
I don’t have to think very hard about that one. “Well, she’s smarter than me, even if a lot of the time she doesn’t act that way.”
Iwanako laughs hard enough to think it worth covering her mouth. “You always were too honest for your own good.”
“Funny, her mother says the same thing about her.” I pour us some more tea, and retrieve my phone from my pocket. After a bit of searching, I pull up a picture and show it to her.
“Green eyes? Interesting. She doesn’t otherwise look like a foreigner. What’s she doing?” She taps the microphone in the image on the screen.
“We were participating in a radio contest, so most likely she’s talking to a complete stranger while I’m supposed to type his information into a computer. Technically, she’s not a foreigner, but she also kind of is. I mean, she was born here, but grew up overseas.”
“Radio contest? You mean like giving away free tickets to the fourteenth caller or something?”
It’s my turn to laugh. “No, not like that, although that sounds like fun too. This was amateur radio, trying to contact as many other radio operators as possible in a certain span of time. In our case, it was twenty-seven hours.”
Her eyes widen. “Tw-twenty-seven hours? In a row?”
“Oh! It wasn’t just the two of us, it was the entire radio club for the school – which happens to include that chief of security I mentioned earlier. We took it in four-hour shifts, two people at a time. It wasn’t easy, but it was manageable.”
“Have the two of you given much thought to what you’re going to do after graduation? I mean, if it’s serious…” She bites her lip a bit, unsure how to proceed.
“Yeah, a little bit. I mean, she’s only a second-year and doesn’t have to worry about it just yet, but if I follow the most logical options that have been laid in front of me, I’ll probably be staying in the area myself – presuming Tohoku accepts me, of course. Chemistry seems both right up my alley, and highly marketable. She plans on pursuing engineering and could well end up at Tohoku herself.”
I see her eyes widen again, and it’s a while before she speaks. “She’s more foreign than I thought, at least in attitude. Engineering is simply not something most girls are willing to contemplate. It’s much too male-dominated, much too chauvinistic.”
“You may be right. She has little fear of failing to conform to prescribed gender roles, that’s for sure. What direction are you planning on going yourself?”
“Linguistics, with an emphasis on dead languages. Do you have any idea how much ancient literature still exists but is largely untranslated? It’s quite a travesty, and it’s something I seem to be good at.”
“«Bloody hell.»” I can see her flinch at my words. “«Don’t tell me I have yet another friend that speaks better English than I do.»” At this, she relaxes and cracks a smile.
She leans in and drops to a near-whisper. “«Enough not to say ‘bloody hell’ in polite company, at least.»” She seems to have the ‘proper’ accent I hear listening to the BBC. “«Then again, Aussies aren’t exactly famous for their politeness.»”
Our meals arrive, and conversation slows. “How did you know she’s Australian?” I finally ask.
“I didn’t. I just knew that whoever has been teaching you English, is. I’m sure she means well, but it might be in your best interests to, well, lose the accent.” She waves a piece of fish cake around as if this somehow clarifies her point.
“My English teacher said much the same thing, but considering how hard a time I was having with it before, I’m much better off now. I’d rather be mistaken for an Australian speaking English than seen as Japanese. At least then people will assume I have some grasp of the language and not expect me to devolve into «Engrish».”
“«All your base are belong to us.»”
“Exactly. At least Australian is a recognized, valid dialect.”
We return to eating quietly for several minutes, then my phone chimes with an incoming message. I take a glance at it: ‘They finally got around to taking a casting. Still haven’t seen the master.’
I send back a response: ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure this will all be worth it. Take whatever time you need.’
“Was that her?”
I nod. “Things are taking longer than she had hoped – but not necessarily longer than she expected. It’s a bit of a miracle she was able to get an appointment on short notice at all, it usually takes months. She can survive another hour or two.”
This draws a look of concern from Iwanako. “You’re sure she doesn’t need you right now? I’d hate to be the one to come between you.”
I smile and wave it off. “She’s fine. It’s not like she can’t walk or anything. She just wants a better leg, one more suited for cycling. It’s not like they’ll be able to make it today anyhow.”
“Wait… what’s wrong with her leg?”
“The one she has chafes her skin when she tries to ride a bicycle too hard, so she arranged a meeting with the prosthetist of the fastest girl on our track team, to get one that fits better.”
“Is this a common problem at your school, people missing the odd limb here and there?” She looks at me with a bit of confusion.
“You didn’t know? That’s pretty much what the school is for, students with special medical needs or physical disabilities. She’d be the first to tell you she doesn’t need any special treatment though. It’s really quite amazing how little two missing limbs seem to slow her down.”
“Two?”
I pull up another picture on my phone, taken at the housewarming party, where Neko is doing her typical gesticulating with one invisible hand, and has a drink in the other, visible one.
“Poor girl. That must be incredibly difficult.”
“Apparently it’s not, at least for someone born that way. She says that the only reason she’s even at Yamaku is political, that she’d do just fine anywhere. She considers not being able to see or not being able to hear to be far worse a fate in life than that which she faces. After watching her in action these past months, I can see her point. You will too, once you get a chance to meet her.”
“Don’t you think she’ll be…” She trails off again, hesitant to use words she considers impolite. It’s a habit of hers I’d completely forgotten, considering how foreign the entire concept is to most of my new friends.
“Jealous? Heavens, no. She’s much happier that I’m out sharing a meal with a friend than sitting around in the lobby, moping about and waiting for her to finish her consultation. She knows who you are, I’m not hiding anything from her.”
At this point, both of us are doing little more than picking at our remaining food. I sneak a glance, and she’s down to rice and salad, just as I am. I guess she was happy enough with our mutual selection of restaurant. A waiter comes around with the bill, and I grab it, although she tries as well. I slip the debit card inside and place it on the edge of the table.
“Are you in the mood for a walk, or would you rather let the food settle?” I recall the place Neko and I went for coffee on the day of the license test, which is not more than a block or two away. “I know a good place for coffee and sweets.”
“Coffee sounds appealing, but I don’t think I could eat any more.”
I hadn’t realized the waiter was within earshot, and she probably didn’t either. He picks up the check and makes a quick notation. “Two coffees, on the way.” He bows at us as he leaves, and a busboy quickly arrives to take our plates away. Almost as quickly, we’re presented with not just coffee, but fancy coffee, topped with whipped cream and drizzles of chocolate.
Iwanako giggles. As soon as the waiter is gone, she whispers to me. “I think he thinks we’re on a date.” She stirs the cream and chocolate into her glass.
I think back on the way we’ve been talking and acting. While we haven’t been as over-the-top affectionate as a typical date between Neko and me, we have been rather comfortable. Any lingering awkwardness between us at the start of the day has evaporated by now. I could see why someone watching from a distance might think we were on a date. “I think you’re right.” The feeling of being watched has suddenly become somewhat oppressive. I stir my coffee together as well, and when the checkbook comes back with the receipt, I quickly sign their copy. “Has it gotten a bit chilly in here?”
“On the contrary, it’s gotten a bit too warm for my liking.” She still gets the gist of my question though, and we head out. “Where to next?”
I fire off another message. ‘How much time do we need to burn?’
The reply comes rather quickly. ‘At least an hour.’
I turn back to Iwanako. “So, how would you feel about some air hockey?”
-----------------
NEXT CHAPTER
Last edited by NekoDude on Mon Nov 03, 2014 1:26 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Re: "Three Of A Perfect Pair" (Neko, Book 2) Kindle Edition?
The first book of the series has been posted as a Kindle format eBook. This is for the old-school black-and-white Kindle but should work fine on all later versions as well.
I intend to post all subsequent books in this format as well as PDF.
I intend to post all subsequent books in this format as well as PDF.
Re: "Three Of A Perfect Pair" (Neko, Book 2) Introducing Iwa
IWANAKO
“Swimming and cycling, that’s what has made the difference. I take a bunch of pills too, but I was already taking those when you last saw me.”
I nod at his explanation. This does help explain how he could walk almost a kilometer from the restaurant to the arcade without interruption, but it doesn’t explain his overall increase in what I can only describe as vitality. Whatever he lost that day in the snow, he has found again. This is the boy I confessed to, not the one that woke up in the hospital. No, that’s not true either – this Hisao has a purpose.
My daydreaming is terminated by a plastic clank, the sound of a puck being slammed into my goal. I fetch it out and put it back into play, hopefully before he notices my lapse of attention. Next thing I know, it’s my turn to attack an undefended goal as his eyes are obviously drawn elsewhere. I take advantage (fair is fair, right?) before turning to see where he’s looking, but nothing seems out of the ordinary to me – nothing other than the fact that he’s currently hiding behind me, that is.
“What has gotten into you?” I ask over my shoulder.
“It’s her ex-girlfriend. There…” A hand ever so briefly points from the corner of my vision.
“Whose ex-girlfriend?” I get the feeling I’m just supposed to know, but I don’t.
“I’ll explain in a moment.” He drags me away into a darker corner of the arcade, which is not difficult to find. “That’s my girlfriend’s ex-girlfriend.”
“The one with the long hair and the soda?” He nods in response. “At least she’s got a keen eye.”
“You don’t understand… she’s a…”
Lesbian? I kinda figured that out by the direction this conversation was going. I give him a raised eyebrow, and he takes a deep breath.
“She’s a fucking psycho.”
Well that escalated quickly. “Be that as it may, I strongly suspect your situation would be improved if she didn’t find you hiding behind me.” If he’s being honest with me about being honest with his girlfriend, then what harm could this other girl do? “Besides, I think she has her own agenda,” I add as we watch her head for the concession stand to meet up with some foreign girl.
“You’re probably right.” He takes his own pulse as he steps out of hiding. “I just wasn’t thinking, I guess. What is she doing here, anyhow? She’s supposed to be working.”
“Working?” I’d say the overdressed blonde is the working girl around here.
“Long story, but she still works for the family. Neko’s mum is out of the country, so someone is supposed to be minding the shop.”
“They have a shop?” This is getting more complicated by the moment.
“Not literally. They’re wine merchants, but they don’t actually sell directly to the consumer. They supply the stores.”
“Wait… she can’t be any older than we are. How could she be in charge of an alcohol distribution business?”
“I told you it’s a long story. I didn’t say it was legal.” He snaps a picture or two with his phone, and a moment later, it rings. He gestures that I should follow him outside where it’s a bit quieter as he answers. “Hi darling, how’s it going?” he asks as we step into the blinding sunlight. He nods a bit. “You’re right, she may well have scheduled this little break, and I shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but if this wasn’t cleared, I have the proof. So do you, now.”
Standing in a parking lot, it’s now quiet enough that I can hear the voice on the other end. “So where are you?” it asks.
“We walked over to the arcade to kill some time. You said it’d be an hour at least.”
“Start heading back this way then,” the tinny voice commands. “We can’t do as much today as I would have liked and I should be done before too long. How are things on your end?”
We’ve already started retracing our steps back toward the restaurant. “Not bad at all. Lunch was pretty good, at least until the waiter decided it was some sort of special event and made things awkward. We’re getting along like the old friends we should have become by now, had life not gotten in the way.”
“Good, I look forward to meeting her. Do you have any idea who the other girl was? The one in your pictures, I mean.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s the cashier for the soda fountain. Other than that, not really.” He doesn’t bother to consult with me, since I’ve never even seen this city before, let alone its inhabitants. “Why, feeling a bit jealous?”
“Don’t be a cunt. It’s a good idea to keep tabs on her social network, purely for business reasons, of course.”
“Of course. Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer, right?”
“Too right. They want me to do some paperwork now, so I’ll talk to you when you get here. Love you, sweety!”
“Love you too, see you in a bit.” He ends the call and pockets the phone.
“No doubt about it,” I chime in. “I didn’t think it was possible to convey in Japanese, but she’s clearly as Australian as a koala.”
“About as cuddly too.” He beams at me as we walk.
***
As soon as we step into the lobby of the building and our eyes adjust, Hisao hurries toward the elevators. He glances back to make sure he hasn’t lost me before making a shield of his arms as he wades through the crowd. Not far from the elevators, he abruptly stops. I have to catch up to him before I realize why – she’s standing right there. I didn’t see her, even though I had a pretty good idea who I was supposed to be looking for.
She throws her arms around me – well, an arm and a half, anyhow – rather unexpectedly. “It’s so good to meet you. I was starting to think Hisao only loved me because I had cornered the market on friends. It’s good to see he came with some of his own after all.”
I glance in his direction, since she doesn’t block my line of sight at all. He just shakes his head and shrugs, so I hug her back.
“It’s good to finally meet you too. From what I can tell, you’ve really done him a world of good.” Except for the accent.
She lets go and takes a step back. “I do what I can to keep him out of trouble.” I can hear him cough quietly, and I’m sure she heard it too when she winks at me. “So how long are you here for?”
“Through the end of Tanabata. I’ve heard this is the place for it. It’s not a very big deal where we’re from, so I wanted to see how it’s supposed to be done.”
“Excellent! Maybe you have the time to join us when we visit Sendai Hi-Land? I need someone along who can go on the roller coasters with me. They scare him too much.”
“They don’t scare me,” he objects. “I’m just not allowed to do that anymore.”
“As I was saying…”
“If you can’t ride together, why are you going?” I ask, in a most likely futile attempt to save some of his dignity.
“There are plenty of other attractions that he still can join me on. Besides, it won’t be just the two of us anyhow. Our stable master and his girlfriend will be joining us, at the very least.”
Stable master? “Hisao told me you were in the wine business. He didn’t say anything about any stables.”
“How forgetful of me.” He rolls his eyes and pokes her in the shoulder as he says it. “Should I have told her about the snooker table and the pool too?”
“Of course. Anything that makes me look good, love.”
“Oh yes, like you really have so much to do with the horses.”
It’s her turn to roll her eyes. Are they always like this? Just when I was starting to think he was normal again, I see that his entire view of normality has been skewed about ninety degrees to the left.
“So where are you staying while you’re in town?”
I was kinda hoping she wouldn’t ask that. “Umm… The Green Mark. It’s really close to the campus, and I’m supposed to take a tour tomorrow morning.”
“Not a lot of dosh, either, which is wise for an extended stay,” she says with a nod. “After that, is there anything tying you to this neighborhood?”
“Not particularly,” I admit. “One of the downsides to visiting during my vacation is that it’s their vacation too. It doesn’t help much when it comes to checking the place out.”
“Good. Then plan on staying over Saturday night at least. It’ll save us having to run you back immediately after the amusement park trip.”
I hadn’t even accepted the invitation yet. What the hell, it’s not like I have anything better to do.
“Swimming and cycling, that’s what has made the difference. I take a bunch of pills too, but I was already taking those when you last saw me.”
I nod at his explanation. This does help explain how he could walk almost a kilometer from the restaurant to the arcade without interruption, but it doesn’t explain his overall increase in what I can only describe as vitality. Whatever he lost that day in the snow, he has found again. This is the boy I confessed to, not the one that woke up in the hospital. No, that’s not true either – this Hisao has a purpose.
My daydreaming is terminated by a plastic clank, the sound of a puck being slammed into my goal. I fetch it out and put it back into play, hopefully before he notices my lapse of attention. Next thing I know, it’s my turn to attack an undefended goal as his eyes are obviously drawn elsewhere. I take advantage (fair is fair, right?) before turning to see where he’s looking, but nothing seems out of the ordinary to me – nothing other than the fact that he’s currently hiding behind me, that is.
“What has gotten into you?” I ask over my shoulder.
“It’s her ex-girlfriend. There…” A hand ever so briefly points from the corner of my vision.
“Whose ex-girlfriend?” I get the feeling I’m just supposed to know, but I don’t.
“I’ll explain in a moment.” He drags me away into a darker corner of the arcade, which is not difficult to find. “That’s my girlfriend’s ex-girlfriend.”
“The one with the long hair and the soda?” He nods in response. “At least she’s got a keen eye.”
“You don’t understand… she’s a…”
Lesbian? I kinda figured that out by the direction this conversation was going. I give him a raised eyebrow, and he takes a deep breath.
“She’s a fucking psycho.”
Well that escalated quickly. “Be that as it may, I strongly suspect your situation would be improved if she didn’t find you hiding behind me.” If he’s being honest with me about being honest with his girlfriend, then what harm could this other girl do? “Besides, I think she has her own agenda,” I add as we watch her head for the concession stand to meet up with some foreign girl.
“You’re probably right.” He takes his own pulse as he steps out of hiding. “I just wasn’t thinking, I guess. What is she doing here, anyhow? She’s supposed to be working.”
“Working?” I’d say the overdressed blonde is the working girl around here.
“Long story, but she still works for the family. Neko’s mum is out of the country, so someone is supposed to be minding the shop.”
“They have a shop?” This is getting more complicated by the moment.
“Not literally. They’re wine merchants, but they don’t actually sell directly to the consumer. They supply the stores.”
“Wait… she can’t be any older than we are. How could she be in charge of an alcohol distribution business?”
“I told you it’s a long story. I didn’t say it was legal.” He snaps a picture or two with his phone, and a moment later, it rings. He gestures that I should follow him outside where it’s a bit quieter as he answers. “Hi darling, how’s it going?” he asks as we step into the blinding sunlight. He nods a bit. “You’re right, she may well have scheduled this little break, and I shouldn’t jump to conclusions, but if this wasn’t cleared, I have the proof. So do you, now.”
Standing in a parking lot, it’s now quiet enough that I can hear the voice on the other end. “So where are you?” it asks.
“We walked over to the arcade to kill some time. You said it’d be an hour at least.”
“Start heading back this way then,” the tinny voice commands. “We can’t do as much today as I would have liked and I should be done before too long. How are things on your end?”
We’ve already started retracing our steps back toward the restaurant. “Not bad at all. Lunch was pretty good, at least until the waiter decided it was some sort of special event and made things awkward. We’re getting along like the old friends we should have become by now, had life not gotten in the way.”
“Good, I look forward to meeting her. Do you have any idea who the other girl was? The one in your pictures, I mean.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s the cashier for the soda fountain. Other than that, not really.” He doesn’t bother to consult with me, since I’ve never even seen this city before, let alone its inhabitants. “Why, feeling a bit jealous?”
“Don’t be a cunt. It’s a good idea to keep tabs on her social network, purely for business reasons, of course.”
“Of course. Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer, right?”
“Too right. They want me to do some paperwork now, so I’ll talk to you when you get here. Love you, sweety!”
“Love you too, see you in a bit.” He ends the call and pockets the phone.
“No doubt about it,” I chime in. “I didn’t think it was possible to convey in Japanese, but she’s clearly as Australian as a koala.”
“About as cuddly too.” He beams at me as we walk.
***
As soon as we step into the lobby of the building and our eyes adjust, Hisao hurries toward the elevators. He glances back to make sure he hasn’t lost me before making a shield of his arms as he wades through the crowd. Not far from the elevators, he abruptly stops. I have to catch up to him before I realize why – she’s standing right there. I didn’t see her, even though I had a pretty good idea who I was supposed to be looking for.
She throws her arms around me – well, an arm and a half, anyhow – rather unexpectedly. “It’s so good to meet you. I was starting to think Hisao only loved me because I had cornered the market on friends. It’s good to see he came with some of his own after all.”
I glance in his direction, since she doesn’t block my line of sight at all. He just shakes his head and shrugs, so I hug her back.
“It’s good to finally meet you too. From what I can tell, you’ve really done him a world of good.” Except for the accent.
She lets go and takes a step back. “I do what I can to keep him out of trouble.” I can hear him cough quietly, and I’m sure she heard it too when she winks at me. “So how long are you here for?”
“Through the end of Tanabata. I’ve heard this is the place for it. It’s not a very big deal where we’re from, so I wanted to see how it’s supposed to be done.”
“Excellent! Maybe you have the time to join us when we visit Sendai Hi-Land? I need someone along who can go on the roller coasters with me. They scare him too much.”
“They don’t scare me,” he objects. “I’m just not allowed to do that anymore.”
“As I was saying…”
“If you can’t ride together, why are you going?” I ask, in a most likely futile attempt to save some of his dignity.
“There are plenty of other attractions that he still can join me on. Besides, it won’t be just the two of us anyhow. Our stable master and his girlfriend will be joining us, at the very least.”
Stable master? “Hisao told me you were in the wine business. He didn’t say anything about any stables.”
“How forgetful of me.” He rolls his eyes and pokes her in the shoulder as he says it. “Should I have told her about the snooker table and the pool too?”
“Of course. Anything that makes me look good, love.”
“Oh yes, like you really have so much to do with the horses.”
It’s her turn to roll her eyes. Are they always like this? Just when I was starting to think he was normal again, I see that his entire view of normality has been skewed about ninety degrees to the left.
“So where are you staying while you’re in town?”
I was kinda hoping she wouldn’t ask that. “Umm… The Green Mark. It’s really close to the campus, and I’m supposed to take a tour tomorrow morning.”
“Not a lot of dosh, either, which is wise for an extended stay,” she says with a nod. “After that, is there anything tying you to this neighborhood?”
“Not particularly,” I admit. “One of the downsides to visiting during my vacation is that it’s their vacation too. It doesn’t help much when it comes to checking the place out.”
“Good. Then plan on staying over Saturday night at least. It’ll save us having to run you back immediately after the amusement park trip.”
I hadn’t even accepted the invitation yet. What the hell, it’s not like I have anything better to do.
Re: "Three Of A Perfect Pair" (Neko, Book 2) Introducing Iwa
EMI
“Is that everything?” I ask, but I don’t see how we’re going to fit this much into the car.
“No, but I suppose I can swap out our clothing when I come back here after Tanabata.” Daisuke marches around his dining room, checking everything off against a list on his phone.
“You know, you can just as easily do laundry at my house as you can here,” I point out. “You don’t have to pack for nine days. I totally didn’t.”
“My clothes aren’t a problem, it’s the PA system that’s big and heavy – and you’re going to need that. We don’t need one quite as large as this, but it’s all I have.” He gestures at the speaker cabinet, which is big enough to need its own wheels, while kindly not mentioning the pedal case he seems to also think is necessary.
“If it fits and we still sits…”
“It should. Things only get tight when there is contention for the back seat. We’ll have to make two trips down, maybe three, but it’ll work. We’ll be alright.”
We’d better be. I can already feel the knot in the pit of my stomach when I think about having to sing in front of everyone.
***
«On the road again,
Just can't wait to get on the road again.
The life I love is making music with my friends
And I can't wait to get on the road again.»
“It’s just not the same singing it alone,” he laments. “I don’t suppose you would sing in English, even if you were prone to singing in general.”
“It might be easier than speaking, since I could learn what words go where. You sing some songs where you don’t understand all the lyrics, right?”
“Yeah, but that’s mostly Danny’s thing. He’s the one who calls for songs in Spanish, or in one case, partly in Dutch. He speaks neither.” He turns the radio back up and continues, louder than before.
«On the road again,
Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway.
We're the best of friends,
Insisting that the world keep turning our way»
He’s a little bit off-key. I don’t know what’s more reassuring – the fact that he’s willing to sing imperfectly, or the fact that I noticed.
***
“Rawr,” says my mother.
“Mom!” I give her my best dirty look, both hands on my hips.
“Hush. I’m taken.” She pats her belly, which is just starting to show.
I suppose I had best carry something into the house before my absence is noticed, so I grab two bags of clothing and get on my way. I catch Daisuke coming back the other way for the heavy gear, and can hear Mom give him instructions.
“You can leave those in the living room, they don’t have to go into the bedroom. You are going to give us a show later, right?”
“Yeah, sure.” He sounds unconvinced, but he can’t dodge it for nine days. Besides, playing for a crowd of three should be less stressful than playing for a crowd of two hundred, which he’s already quite used to, right?
I toss the bags onto my old bed. I don’t remember it looking so small, but it’s all we have. I look around, basking in memories, and I guess I linger longer than I intended, as I feel a hand on my shoulder.
“Is something the matter?” It’s Mom.
“No, no… I was just thinking about how the next time I see this room again, it probably won’t be mine.”
“Make yourself at home while it still is, though. I will understand if you can’t resist testing out the bed.” She wanders back out, while I try to wrap my head around what she just said.
I’m really not the baby anymore, am I?
“Is that everything?” I ask, but I don’t see how we’re going to fit this much into the car.
“No, but I suppose I can swap out our clothing when I come back here after Tanabata.” Daisuke marches around his dining room, checking everything off against a list on his phone.
“You know, you can just as easily do laundry at my house as you can here,” I point out. “You don’t have to pack for nine days. I totally didn’t.”
“My clothes aren’t a problem, it’s the PA system that’s big and heavy – and you’re going to need that. We don’t need one quite as large as this, but it’s all I have.” He gestures at the speaker cabinet, which is big enough to need its own wheels, while kindly not mentioning the pedal case he seems to also think is necessary.
“If it fits and we still sits…”
“It should. Things only get tight when there is contention for the back seat. We’ll have to make two trips down, maybe three, but it’ll work. We’ll be alright.”
We’d better be. I can already feel the knot in the pit of my stomach when I think about having to sing in front of everyone.
***
«On the road again,
Just can't wait to get on the road again.
The life I love is making music with my friends
And I can't wait to get on the road again.»
“It’s just not the same singing it alone,” he laments. “I don’t suppose you would sing in English, even if you were prone to singing in general.”
“It might be easier than speaking, since I could learn what words go where. You sing some songs where you don’t understand all the lyrics, right?”
“Yeah, but that’s mostly Danny’s thing. He’s the one who calls for songs in Spanish, or in one case, partly in Dutch. He speaks neither.” He turns the radio back up and continues, louder than before.
«On the road again,
Like a band of gypsies we go down the highway.
We're the best of friends,
Insisting that the world keep turning our way»
He’s a little bit off-key. I don’t know what’s more reassuring – the fact that he’s willing to sing imperfectly, or the fact that I noticed.
***
“Rawr,” says my mother.
“Mom!” I give her my best dirty look, both hands on my hips.
“Hush. I’m taken.” She pats her belly, which is just starting to show.
I suppose I had best carry something into the house before my absence is noticed, so I grab two bags of clothing and get on my way. I catch Daisuke coming back the other way for the heavy gear, and can hear Mom give him instructions.
“You can leave those in the living room, they don’t have to go into the bedroom. You are going to give us a show later, right?”
“Yeah, sure.” He sounds unconvinced, but he can’t dodge it for nine days. Besides, playing for a crowd of three should be less stressful than playing for a crowd of two hundred, which he’s already quite used to, right?
I toss the bags onto my old bed. I don’t remember it looking so small, but it’s all we have. I look around, basking in memories, and I guess I linger longer than I intended, as I feel a hand on my shoulder.
“Is something the matter?” It’s Mom.
“No, no… I was just thinking about how the next time I see this room again, it probably won’t be mine.”
“Make yourself at home while it still is, though. I will understand if you can’t resist testing out the bed.” She wanders back out, while I try to wrap my head around what she just said.
I’m really not the baby anymore, am I?
Re: "Three Of A Perfect Pair" (Neko, Book 2) River Raft
BEN
“You really don’t mind that Abe is riding with Miki instead of you?” Neko asks me.
“Why would I? Maybe he trusts her a bit more than he should, but I don’t think she’d do anything to hurt him, and she’s a competent driver.” She’d better be, she took enough of my time.
“The side trip…”
“The side trip is fine too. I do more driving than this for your mother on quite a regular basis, and I can add a few extra kilometers for you. I am a bit curious to see who we’re picking up though.” I see Neko’s thumb point over her shoulder to indicate Hisao should field this one. She tries so hard to keep them equal, and it only proves how much she’s in control.
Hisao’s voice drifts up between the seats. “She’s… sort of my ex-girlfriend.”
“There’s no shame in that. Being able to stay civil or even friendly with your previous partners is a good skill to have – especially if there are children involved, but even when there aren’t. So, is she cute?” I hesitate long enough to let him squirm, and give Neko a wink. “You don’t have to answer that, I’ll find out soon enough.”
The traffic into downtown Sendai isn’t bad for a Saturday morning, but I can’t say the same for outbound traffic, and we’ll be caught in that soon enough. Hopefully it’s better going west than going south, but I’m not counting on it. We pull up to the kerb next to the hotel, and Neko waves. It looks like we don’t have to park, but we do need a Chinese fire drill. Neko steps out on her side, opening the door to let our new passenger in, tosses a bag in the hatchback, then continues around the back to the spot Hisao just vacated. I cross from the right front to the left front, and Hisao takes my seat. He does a cursory check of the mirrors and seat, but he always seems fine with the way I set things up for myself – unlike my previous student driver. I flip the visor down and take a glance in its mirror at the girl sitting behind me, and ‘cute’ is a thoroughly inadequate term to describe her. Damn, son.
Hisao does a spot check to make sure everyone is strapped in – including me – and we’re off. Traffic is a bit congested, but that just means a few extra minutes of logged time for him.
“I had no idea that when you said you’d come pick me up, you meant personally,” says our newcomer. “When did you learn to drive?”
“I still am learning. It’s his car, and I appreciate the help.” He casually bumps the shifter into neutral and coasts up to the back of the pack waiting for the light to change. “Sorry I didn’t introduce you, but I thought the doorman was looking at us cross-eyed and wanted to get out of there. Ben, this is my friend Iwanako. Iwanako, this is the Rogers family chef, jack-of-all-trades, and general good guy, Ben.”
“Delighted to meet you.” Her hand appears between the seats, so I reach back over my shoulder and grab it briefly.
“Likewise. I’m glad you could come along, it balances out the pairings. I’m not much of a coaster person myself, so we’ll probably play some mini-golf while the rest of you ride. I’d be up for a water ride though, it’s going to be plenty warm.” And I’m wearing shorts and sandals for that exact reason.
I hear Neko snap her fingers. “That’s what I forgot. Plastic bags, for the things we need to keep dry.”
“I’m sure we can get hold of some before it becomes an issue, even if it means buying trinkets. We can also search the car when we get there, as there’s a high likelihood I’ve got a couple rolling around in the back from various shopping trips. They might have something in them, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be re-purposed.”
“Now that you mention it…” I can hear Neko’s voice muffled by being turned around. “...it looks like you do.” I hear rattling. “Motor oil and a radiator hose.”
“No reason that needs to stay in bags. You can use those.”
“You are over-prepared to the point of saving the day yet again. It must be tiring being that awesome.”
Professional Awesome. That would look better on a business card than ‘jack of all trades’. ‘–We Also Walk Dogs.’
***
Not surprisingly, the other half of the party gets there first. My phone chimes with a message from Abe while we are still a few minutes out. ‘ETA?’ He probably thinks I’m driving and wants to keep it short. I might as well play along.
I respond with ‘5 to 10’ and pocket the phone. “They just got there, I told them we’ll be along in less than ten minutes,” I announce to nobody in particular. We actually make it in seven, but I’m still glad for the extra time since it’s particularly crowded today. I rather expected it would be, on a hot, sunny Saturday immediately before the biggest celebration in the prefecture. I take a picture of the signs nearest our parking spot, everyone grabs a plastic bag, and water to drink on the way to the gate, and we’re off.
Neko breaks into her skip-hop gait and pulls ahead. Hisao follows alongside in a normal skip, as they both break into song.
«We’re off to see the Wizard,
the Wonderful Wizard of Oz.
We hear he is a whiz of a Wiz,
when monkeys fly out of my butt!»
Although they drop out of their skips, they make no effort to return to the group. Linked arm in arm, they proceed to play-fight with their empty water bottles.
Iwanako gives me a look of bewilderment as we walk. “Are they… always like this?”
“No,” I admit. “They’re usually much worse.”
I haven’t had time to finish this before she too has broken into a trot, and she clouts Hisao over the head from behind with a water bottle that is not quite empty, joining in the bottle-bopping frenzy. It takes me a moment to catch up, and I get a smile and a nod from my new ally. “As you can see, I don’t mind silly… but could we please be silly inside? We’ll have plenty of time for it while queueing.”
At that, Neko and Hisao first look hard at each other, then at Iwanako, and finally pummel her over the head with their water bottles while she screams in mock terror and puts up her arms in defence. I step between the assailants and clear a path through, extending my arm. “My lady, shall we proceed?” I can play this game too, and nobody exhibits the nerve to turn their bottles on me. I guess they don’t care to walk home.
When we near the gate, the queue is as long as would be expected from the number of cars in the lot. We spot the others ahead, and my boy goes for his phone. “We’ll get all of the tickets, no sense waiting twice,” chimes my phone. We do not risk joining them in the queue. Although this would have no functional effect whatsoever, it is highly discouraged by social approbation, so we stand aside.
The bottles have been discarded, so there is no repeat of the stunts we saw on the way in. All there is to do now is wait, so I take a seat in the shade, surprisingly joined by Neko, who leaves Hisao and Iwanako to stand and chat.
“You sure that’s safe?” I ask her quietly. “She’s awfully cute.”
“I have my own Magic Girl Powers to keep him under my thumb. What am I supposed to do, screen all of his friends?”
“I gather it wouldn’t take very long if you did.”
“Hmm, good point. Just the same, I don’t want to go yandere.”
It doesn’t matter much anyhow, as they soon come to join us. Tipping his head briefly, Hisao casually comments, “She already knows about Miss Congeniality.”
“I’ll do my best to pretend I don’t know, at least when she’s around,” our guest responds. “That’s probably best for all concerned, right?”
Neko nods. “At least you’re prepared for her particular brand of emotional abuse.”
“After what I’ve been through, I’m always prepared.”
“You really don’t mind that Abe is riding with Miki instead of you?” Neko asks me.
“Why would I? Maybe he trusts her a bit more than he should, but I don’t think she’d do anything to hurt him, and she’s a competent driver.” She’d better be, she took enough of my time.
“The side trip…”
“The side trip is fine too. I do more driving than this for your mother on quite a regular basis, and I can add a few extra kilometers for you. I am a bit curious to see who we’re picking up though.” I see Neko’s thumb point over her shoulder to indicate Hisao should field this one. She tries so hard to keep them equal, and it only proves how much she’s in control.
Hisao’s voice drifts up between the seats. “She’s… sort of my ex-girlfriend.”
“There’s no shame in that. Being able to stay civil or even friendly with your previous partners is a good skill to have – especially if there are children involved, but even when there aren’t. So, is she cute?” I hesitate long enough to let him squirm, and give Neko a wink. “You don’t have to answer that, I’ll find out soon enough.”
The traffic into downtown Sendai isn’t bad for a Saturday morning, but I can’t say the same for outbound traffic, and we’ll be caught in that soon enough. Hopefully it’s better going west than going south, but I’m not counting on it. We pull up to the kerb next to the hotel, and Neko waves. It looks like we don’t have to park, but we do need a Chinese fire drill. Neko steps out on her side, opening the door to let our new passenger in, tosses a bag in the hatchback, then continues around the back to the spot Hisao just vacated. I cross from the right front to the left front, and Hisao takes my seat. He does a cursory check of the mirrors and seat, but he always seems fine with the way I set things up for myself – unlike my previous student driver. I flip the visor down and take a glance in its mirror at the girl sitting behind me, and ‘cute’ is a thoroughly inadequate term to describe her. Damn, son.
Hisao does a spot check to make sure everyone is strapped in – including me – and we’re off. Traffic is a bit congested, but that just means a few extra minutes of logged time for him.
“I had no idea that when you said you’d come pick me up, you meant personally,” says our newcomer. “When did you learn to drive?”
“I still am learning. It’s his car, and I appreciate the help.” He casually bumps the shifter into neutral and coasts up to the back of the pack waiting for the light to change. “Sorry I didn’t introduce you, but I thought the doorman was looking at us cross-eyed and wanted to get out of there. Ben, this is my friend Iwanako. Iwanako, this is the Rogers family chef, jack-of-all-trades, and general good guy, Ben.”
“Delighted to meet you.” Her hand appears between the seats, so I reach back over my shoulder and grab it briefly.
“Likewise. I’m glad you could come along, it balances out the pairings. I’m not much of a coaster person myself, so we’ll probably play some mini-golf while the rest of you ride. I’d be up for a water ride though, it’s going to be plenty warm.” And I’m wearing shorts and sandals for that exact reason.
I hear Neko snap her fingers. “That’s what I forgot. Plastic bags, for the things we need to keep dry.”
“I’m sure we can get hold of some before it becomes an issue, even if it means buying trinkets. We can also search the car when we get there, as there’s a high likelihood I’ve got a couple rolling around in the back from various shopping trips. They might have something in them, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be re-purposed.”
“Now that you mention it…” I can hear Neko’s voice muffled by being turned around. “...it looks like you do.” I hear rattling. “Motor oil and a radiator hose.”
“No reason that needs to stay in bags. You can use those.”
“You are over-prepared to the point of saving the day yet again. It must be tiring being that awesome.”
Professional Awesome. That would look better on a business card than ‘jack of all trades’. ‘–We Also Walk Dogs.’
***
Not surprisingly, the other half of the party gets there first. My phone chimes with a message from Abe while we are still a few minutes out. ‘ETA?’ He probably thinks I’m driving and wants to keep it short. I might as well play along.
I respond with ‘5 to 10’ and pocket the phone. “They just got there, I told them we’ll be along in less than ten minutes,” I announce to nobody in particular. We actually make it in seven, but I’m still glad for the extra time since it’s particularly crowded today. I rather expected it would be, on a hot, sunny Saturday immediately before the biggest celebration in the prefecture. I take a picture of the signs nearest our parking spot, everyone grabs a plastic bag, and water to drink on the way to the gate, and we’re off.
Neko breaks into her skip-hop gait and pulls ahead. Hisao follows alongside in a normal skip, as they both break into song.
«We’re off to see the Wizard,
the Wonderful Wizard of Oz.
We hear he is a whiz of a Wiz,
when monkeys fly out of my butt!»
Although they drop out of their skips, they make no effort to return to the group. Linked arm in arm, they proceed to play-fight with their empty water bottles.
Iwanako gives me a look of bewilderment as we walk. “Are they… always like this?”
“No,” I admit. “They’re usually much worse.”
I haven’t had time to finish this before she too has broken into a trot, and she clouts Hisao over the head from behind with a water bottle that is not quite empty, joining in the bottle-bopping frenzy. It takes me a moment to catch up, and I get a smile and a nod from my new ally. “As you can see, I don’t mind silly… but could we please be silly inside? We’ll have plenty of time for it while queueing.”
At that, Neko and Hisao first look hard at each other, then at Iwanako, and finally pummel her over the head with their water bottles while she screams in mock terror and puts up her arms in defence. I step between the assailants and clear a path through, extending my arm. “My lady, shall we proceed?” I can play this game too, and nobody exhibits the nerve to turn their bottles on me. I guess they don’t care to walk home.
When we near the gate, the queue is as long as would be expected from the number of cars in the lot. We spot the others ahead, and my boy goes for his phone. “We’ll get all of the tickets, no sense waiting twice,” chimes my phone. We do not risk joining them in the queue. Although this would have no functional effect whatsoever, it is highly discouraged by social approbation, so we stand aside.
The bottles have been discarded, so there is no repeat of the stunts we saw on the way in. All there is to do now is wait, so I take a seat in the shade, surprisingly joined by Neko, who leaves Hisao and Iwanako to stand and chat.
“You sure that’s safe?” I ask her quietly. “She’s awfully cute.”
“I have my own Magic Girl Powers to keep him under my thumb. What am I supposed to do, screen all of his friends?”
“I gather it wouldn’t take very long if you did.”
“Hmm, good point. Just the same, I don’t want to go yandere.”
It doesn’t matter much anyhow, as they soon come to join us. Tipping his head briefly, Hisao casually comments, “She already knows about Miss Congeniality.”
“I’ll do my best to pretend I don’t know, at least when she’s around,” our guest responds. “That’s probably best for all concerned, right?”
Neko nods. “At least you’re prepared for her particular brand of emotional abuse.”
“After what I’ve been through, I’m always prepared.”
Last edited by NekoDude on Mon Nov 03, 2014 6:05 pm, edited 3 times in total.
Re: "Three Of A Perfect Pair" (Neko, Book 2) River Raft
ABE
Things don’t start to get interesting until Miki and Kenta peel off and go their own way.
“«She brought a bloke with her?»”
“«Yeah, that had me a bit mixed up too.»” I’m a little surprised this person I’d never met before would spot it though.
“«They’re just LGBT BFFs. It’s not a hard concept to grasp.»” Suzu taps her temple with a finger as she speaks.
“«LGB… what?»” I don’t know when or why we switched languages, but Hisao is getting left behind a bit.
“«LOL OMG WTF BBQ,»” Neko unhelpfully replies, spelling it out one letter at a time. “«It’s not as innocent as you think though. They are former lovers, if only one time.»”
Hisao looks as though he wants to say something, but is struggling to string the words together. “«That night turned out for the best, right?»” is what he finally comes up with.
“«Well… yeah, I suppose it did.»” It’s rare to see her blush, and it’s less than obvious why she would, but if ever there was a time to start applying Dad’s advice, it’s now. Don’t ask nosy questions if they’re going to answer them anyhow. Knowing this pair, they will, but if they don’t, I’ll ask under more private conditions.
We have come to a stop in the middle of a busy intersection of footpaths, and it’s my Dad that gets us back into speaking normally. “I guess Hisao and I will catch up with you later. Drop me a line before you go on any water rides.”
“We’ll both join you,” Hisao adds. “I checked, and the river raft ride isn’t a hazard to me – other than possibly getting soaked.”
“Possibly? More like almost certainly,” Neko points out. “They might as well call the ride ‘a shower with your clothes on,’ for all the chance you stand of keeping dry. I know you won’t melt though, you’re pretty good in water.” Judging by his blush, I’m guessing she’s not talking about his swimming.
After a they pause for a quick kiss which is still enough to draw stares, Hisao goes his way with Dad, while the four of us head toward the thrill rides. We enter the line for the longest of the coasters, which has signs giving you some idea how long you can expect to wait. The first reads: “Average wait time from this point: 45 minutes.” Problem is, it’s far enough ahead that Neko had to squint and shield her eyes to read it, and she’s got spy satellite eyeballs. It looks like we’ll be here at least an hour. It’s scary to think that as crowded as it is today, tomorrow will probably be even worse.
After a few minutes of idle chatter about the merits of various attractions we could choose – as this was pretty much the only one we agreed upon beforehand – things get oddly quiet. You’d think someone would start telling embarrassing stories about the people not in line with us or something. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when a large group breaks apart and pursues different goals? Instead, Suzu and I lean on each other a little, her arms wrapped around me, but not much else is happening.
Iwanako stands, looking conflicted and weighed down by something. Finally, she breaks the silence. “Neko, I… I want you to know that I really respect your relationship with Hisao, and think that you have done a lot of good for him.” She stops, swallows , and bows as she continues. “I am afraid I have a favor to ask of you.”
Neko gives an expectant look, and I can feel Suzu’s arms tighten around me from behind. This isn’t the river raft ride. You can’t hide behind me.
Iwanako is staring down and kicking at pebbles on the pavement. “I umm… really need to borrow Hisao for a little while.”
“Borrow him?” Neko’s voice carries a bit more edge than perhaps she intended, because she feels compelled to follow up. “What in the world do you mean? I don’t own him.”
“It’s about the treatment I get back home, being called ‘heartbreaker’ and being shunned by all but a few brave souls. I just thought… no, never mind. It was a stupid idea.”
“No, love, stupid is to keep your mouth shut when you see a problem and think you might have an answer. Maybe you do, maybe you don’t, but either way let’s hear it.”
“Well… he really should get home at some point during this break to see his parents. He needs to be reminded of this, and while I do believe we’re still friends, I’m not really in a position to convince him of this.” She gives another small bow.
“That’s the favor? You want me to convince him to go see his parents? I will certainly try. I can’t promise he’ll agree, but I don’t see why he wouldn’t, either.”
“N-no. That’s not really the favor, although that would have to happen first. The favor is that while he’s there, I need to be seen in public with him, and show my classmates and peers – his former buddies – that he is still with us and doing well. I give you much of the credit for this, and that is why I ask to borrow him.”
Neko nods and smiles. “You think he’ll be worried about my reaction. I understand completely what you’re asking, and why, and I have no problem with it. It’s horrible that you’ve been treated as if you are somehow cursed, that you’re somehow draining the life out of the people you dared to love. As you can see, Hisao is anything but drained of life. If displaying this to his former classmates will make your life easier, then I’m all for it. It’s up to him, of course, but I’ll make sure he knows that I approve.”
Iwanako’s posture changes in a manner not unlike a spring being unloaded. She looks like a weight has been lifted off her – a weight she was able to carry, but is happy to have dropped. “Maybe I’ll actually be able to get another boyfriend,” she replies. “Not everyone has been scared off, but…” She suddenly seems to be carrying that millstone once again, and she’s looking down at her hands and shuffling her feet.
Neko gently lifts her chin so they can see eye to eye. “I get it. You don’t need to explain.”
I wish I could say the same.
***
Kissing. I guess that’s what Ferris wheels are good for. They’ve never seemed all that exciting to me, but then, I’ve never made out on one before.
Suzu squeezes my hand. “How big do you think this wheel would have to be for us to see all the way home?”
I think about the terrain we passed on the way here. “Probably big enough to pose a hazard to aircraft – if it didn’t just fall apart under its own weight. Lots of hills between here and there.”
She looks mildly disappointed by my lack of imagination, but that’s something that cuts both ways. We haven’t discussed her bad dreams any further, but I can still hear how her laughter rang out as she passed me in a go-kart, followed by a certain gloominess as we walked away afterward. At least this time I knew what was eating at her. This is as close to driving as she’s likely to ever get. It’s not as bad as all that, though. It won’t be long before none of us drives, and all of us catch a nap on the trip.
Right?
Things don’t start to get interesting until Miki and Kenta peel off and go their own way.
“«She brought a bloke with her?»”
“«Yeah, that had me a bit mixed up too.»” I’m a little surprised this person I’d never met before would spot it though.
“«They’re just LGBT BFFs. It’s not a hard concept to grasp.»” Suzu taps her temple with a finger as she speaks.
“«LGB… what?»” I don’t know when or why we switched languages, but Hisao is getting left behind a bit.
“«LOL OMG WTF BBQ,»” Neko unhelpfully replies, spelling it out one letter at a time. “«It’s not as innocent as you think though. They are former lovers, if only one time.»”
Hisao looks as though he wants to say something, but is struggling to string the words together. “«That night turned out for the best, right?»” is what he finally comes up with.
“«Well… yeah, I suppose it did.»” It’s rare to see her blush, and it’s less than obvious why she would, but if ever there was a time to start applying Dad’s advice, it’s now. Don’t ask nosy questions if they’re going to answer them anyhow. Knowing this pair, they will, but if they don’t, I’ll ask under more private conditions.
We have come to a stop in the middle of a busy intersection of footpaths, and it’s my Dad that gets us back into speaking normally. “I guess Hisao and I will catch up with you later. Drop me a line before you go on any water rides.”
“We’ll both join you,” Hisao adds. “I checked, and the river raft ride isn’t a hazard to me – other than possibly getting soaked.”
“Possibly? More like almost certainly,” Neko points out. “They might as well call the ride ‘a shower with your clothes on,’ for all the chance you stand of keeping dry. I know you won’t melt though, you’re pretty good in water.” Judging by his blush, I’m guessing she’s not talking about his swimming.
After a they pause for a quick kiss which is still enough to draw stares, Hisao goes his way with Dad, while the four of us head toward the thrill rides. We enter the line for the longest of the coasters, which has signs giving you some idea how long you can expect to wait. The first reads: “Average wait time from this point: 45 minutes.” Problem is, it’s far enough ahead that Neko had to squint and shield her eyes to read it, and she’s got spy satellite eyeballs. It looks like we’ll be here at least an hour. It’s scary to think that as crowded as it is today, tomorrow will probably be even worse.
After a few minutes of idle chatter about the merits of various attractions we could choose – as this was pretty much the only one we agreed upon beforehand – things get oddly quiet. You’d think someone would start telling embarrassing stories about the people not in line with us or something. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do when a large group breaks apart and pursues different goals? Instead, Suzu and I lean on each other a little, her arms wrapped around me, but not much else is happening.
Iwanako stands, looking conflicted and weighed down by something. Finally, she breaks the silence. “Neko, I… I want you to know that I really respect your relationship with Hisao, and think that you have done a lot of good for him.” She stops, swallows , and bows as she continues. “I am afraid I have a favor to ask of you.”
Neko gives an expectant look, and I can feel Suzu’s arms tighten around me from behind. This isn’t the river raft ride. You can’t hide behind me.
Iwanako is staring down and kicking at pebbles on the pavement. “I umm… really need to borrow Hisao for a little while.”
“Borrow him?” Neko’s voice carries a bit more edge than perhaps she intended, because she feels compelled to follow up. “What in the world do you mean? I don’t own him.”
“It’s about the treatment I get back home, being called ‘heartbreaker’ and being shunned by all but a few brave souls. I just thought… no, never mind. It was a stupid idea.”
“No, love, stupid is to keep your mouth shut when you see a problem and think you might have an answer. Maybe you do, maybe you don’t, but either way let’s hear it.”
“Well… he really should get home at some point during this break to see his parents. He needs to be reminded of this, and while I do believe we’re still friends, I’m not really in a position to convince him of this.” She gives another small bow.
“That’s the favor? You want me to convince him to go see his parents? I will certainly try. I can’t promise he’ll agree, but I don’t see why he wouldn’t, either.”
“N-no. That’s not really the favor, although that would have to happen first. The favor is that while he’s there, I need to be seen in public with him, and show my classmates and peers – his former buddies – that he is still with us and doing well. I give you much of the credit for this, and that is why I ask to borrow him.”
Neko nods and smiles. “You think he’ll be worried about my reaction. I understand completely what you’re asking, and why, and I have no problem with it. It’s horrible that you’ve been treated as if you are somehow cursed, that you’re somehow draining the life out of the people you dared to love. As you can see, Hisao is anything but drained of life. If displaying this to his former classmates will make your life easier, then I’m all for it. It’s up to him, of course, but I’ll make sure he knows that I approve.”
Iwanako’s posture changes in a manner not unlike a spring being unloaded. She looks like a weight has been lifted off her – a weight she was able to carry, but is happy to have dropped. “Maybe I’ll actually be able to get another boyfriend,” she replies. “Not everyone has been scared off, but…” She suddenly seems to be carrying that millstone once again, and she’s looking down at her hands and shuffling her feet.
Neko gently lifts her chin so they can see eye to eye. “I get it. You don’t need to explain.”
I wish I could say the same.
***
Kissing. I guess that’s what Ferris wheels are good for. They’ve never seemed all that exciting to me, but then, I’ve never made out on one before.
Suzu squeezes my hand. “How big do you think this wheel would have to be for us to see all the way home?”
I think about the terrain we passed on the way here. “Probably big enough to pose a hazard to aircraft – if it didn’t just fall apart under its own weight. Lots of hills between here and there.”
She looks mildly disappointed by my lack of imagination, but that’s something that cuts both ways. We haven’t discussed her bad dreams any further, but I can still hear how her laughter rang out as she passed me in a go-kart, followed by a certain gloominess as we walked away afterward. At least this time I knew what was eating at her. This is as close to driving as she’s likely to ever get. It’s not as bad as all that, though. It won’t be long before none of us drives, and all of us catch a nap on the trip.
Right?
Re: "Three Of A Perfect Pair" (Neko, Book 2) Nurse's Name
MEIKO
“Darling, sit. Or don’t, but either way, stop and listen.” I draw a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re going to have to trust him to do the right thing. If you can’t do that, what do you have?”
Emi picks up her glass, half-filled with champagne that is already losing its bubbles. Once opened over lunch, someone had to drink it, and it wasn’t going to be me. She stares through the contents, motionless for a split second, before downing them in one swallow. “I knew you’d take his side,” she insists, setting the slender glass down none too gently. “You’ve had an eye on him since the moment we arrived.”
“I’m not even allowed to tease you anymore, just a little bit? Seriously, it’s not like I want to steal your boyfriend – not in the past, not in the future, and certainly not now.” Paranoia strikes deep. Into your life it will creep.
“I guess I can cross you off the list,” she replies, although she doesn’t look completely convinced. “One down, nine hundred ninety-nine to go. Keeping a closer watch is all the more reason I’m leaning toward accepting the offer from Muramoto.”
“I figured you were, from the moment you mentioned it. If it’s my approval – our approval – that you seek, you have it. You’ve bristled at being older than your classmates for many years, lashing out at anyone who dares to mention it. This won’t get that entire year back, but it will win back half, and you know there’s an opening for you straight out of school. There aren’t many who share that certainty.” I expected her to show more relief at my announcement, but she continues her slow, jittery tapdance on the kitchen tiles. “It will also allow us to accelerate our plans for the announcement and the wedding, for which I am admittedly grateful. I may actually be able to get into that dress after all, with just a little tailoring.”
“I suppose I should let him know I’ve made a decision then. I don’t suppose it will be a surprise, but there is still paperwork to be done.” She grabs her glass and rinses it before half-filling it again with sake. Then she’s bouncing out the door as she always has, to see what mischief the guys are up to.
When everyone returns, they catch me with a bowl of ice cream. “Don’t even start,” I say pre-emptively. “I can’t drink, so I need some sort of release.”
“I wasn’t going to,” says my daughter, who has lectured me on diet before. “It’s probably not the best source of calcium for little bones, but at least it is one.”
I grab Koshi’s arm as he tries to slip past me on the way to the kitchen. “Dear, I wouldn’t mind a little bit of coffee myself.”
He nods and gives me a little kiss. “That’s what we came in for. It’s not incredibly hot, but the sun still has a way of sucking the energy right out of us – or at least old folks like us.” He gestures in such a way as to include everyone except Emi. “I’ll get you half a cup, unless you want to burn through the whole day’s ration before dinner.”
“I want it now. I’m so much more sensitive to it than I was before, and late caffeine is no-sleep caffeine.” While I haven’t been told not to drink coffee while pregnant, we’re keeping the dose – and thus any risk – as minimal as possible. This meant shaking my long-standing addiction, and my tolerance along with it. Now I can actually get jitters from a single cup. “Not too sweet though, and I’ll take it black.” If I’m only getting one cup, I don’t want to dilute it.
I thought at first that the old folks remark was in reference to something Emi might have said outside. Maybe it still is, but it takes a twist when she fills her cup – with wine.
“Darling, sit. Or don’t, but either way, stop and listen.” I draw a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re going to have to trust him to do the right thing. If you can’t do that, what do you have?”
Emi picks up her glass, half-filled with champagne that is already losing its bubbles. Once opened over lunch, someone had to drink it, and it wasn’t going to be me. She stares through the contents, motionless for a split second, before downing them in one swallow. “I knew you’d take his side,” she insists, setting the slender glass down none too gently. “You’ve had an eye on him since the moment we arrived.”
“I’m not even allowed to tease you anymore, just a little bit? Seriously, it’s not like I want to steal your boyfriend – not in the past, not in the future, and certainly not now.” Paranoia strikes deep. Into your life it will creep.
“I guess I can cross you off the list,” she replies, although she doesn’t look completely convinced. “One down, nine hundred ninety-nine to go. Keeping a closer watch is all the more reason I’m leaning toward accepting the offer from Muramoto.”
“I figured you were, from the moment you mentioned it. If it’s my approval – our approval – that you seek, you have it. You’ve bristled at being older than your classmates for many years, lashing out at anyone who dares to mention it. This won’t get that entire year back, but it will win back half, and you know there’s an opening for you straight out of school. There aren’t many who share that certainty.” I expected her to show more relief at my announcement, but she continues her slow, jittery tapdance on the kitchen tiles. “It will also allow us to accelerate our plans for the announcement and the wedding, for which I am admittedly grateful. I may actually be able to get into that dress after all, with just a little tailoring.”
“I suppose I should let him know I’ve made a decision then. I don’t suppose it will be a surprise, but there is still paperwork to be done.” She grabs her glass and rinses it before half-filling it again with sake. Then she’s bouncing out the door as she always has, to see what mischief the guys are up to.
When everyone returns, they catch me with a bowl of ice cream. “Don’t even start,” I say pre-emptively. “I can’t drink, so I need some sort of release.”
“I wasn’t going to,” says my daughter, who has lectured me on diet before. “It’s probably not the best source of calcium for little bones, but at least it is one.”
I grab Koshi’s arm as he tries to slip past me on the way to the kitchen. “Dear, I wouldn’t mind a little bit of coffee myself.”
He nods and gives me a little kiss. “That’s what we came in for. It’s not incredibly hot, but the sun still has a way of sucking the energy right out of us – or at least old folks like us.” He gestures in such a way as to include everyone except Emi. “I’ll get you half a cup, unless you want to burn through the whole day’s ration before dinner.”
“I want it now. I’m so much more sensitive to it than I was before, and late caffeine is no-sleep caffeine.” While I haven’t been told not to drink coffee while pregnant, we’re keeping the dose – and thus any risk – as minimal as possible. This meant shaking my long-standing addiction, and my tolerance along with it. Now I can actually get jitters from a single cup. “Not too sweet though, and I’ll take it black.” If I’m only getting one cup, I don’t want to dilute it.
I thought at first that the old folks remark was in reference to something Emi might have said outside. Maybe it still is, but it takes a twist when she fills her cup – with wine.
Re: "Three Of A Perfect Pair" (Neko, Book 2) Nurse's Name
NEKO
“No, I don’t insist. It’s not my place to do so.” I shake my head to emphasize my point. “But you really should go home for a little while before classes start up again, and it’ll be more pleasant if you’re not alone.” Our chair rises higher and squeaks slightly as it swings since the wheel turns in fits and starts, having to swap occupants one chair at a time.
“I agree on both points,” Hisao says as he sighs. “I just think my parents will find it a bit strange if I step off the train with… well, anyone other than you, really.”
“Well then, maybe I can follow a few days behind. It has been a very long time since I last saw Tokyo. What I remember most was knowing just how easy it would be to disappear into the crowd and get trampled, having hardly a clue which way to go. Then, I could barely read the signs, and I was about yea tall…” I hold my hand less than a meter off the deck where our feet rest.
“Oh, so last week?”
I backhand him in the shoulder. “Very funny.” I stick my tongue out before putting my serious face back on. “Even now I’ll be a tourist, and that’s not what you need at the start. It’s not what she needs either.”
“About that – I’m not sure just what she expects of me.”
“Closure. Not an end to your friendship, but an end to the constant ostracism she receives. She believes that once people see the two of you in the same place at the same time, and they see that you are far from dead, they’ll stop treating her like poison.”
“She isn’t to blame for anything. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He shakes his head sadly. “I had no idea the people who I used to call my friends could be such jerks.”
“I know that. So does she. We’re not the ones who need convincing.” I stare directly into his eyes and hold my gaze for several seconds before continuing in low tones. “She was there when it mattered. Sure, it didn’t work out in the end, but it was enough to get you here, and she paid a high price for it. You can’t undo any of that, but you might put an end to her troubles. I certainly don’t think it’s too much to ask that you try.”
“Certainly, I’ll do what I can, but I have a strange feeling she may ask for something I can’t deliver, something more personal. I’m worried she might ask…”
I cut him off before he can tie himself in linguistic knots. “I know exactly what you’re afraid of. Don’t be. If it comes down to that, just do the right thing.” I give him another long, meaningful stare. “I’m certainly no fair and innocent maiden.” I add a quick reach across my body to demonstrate. If he didn’t before, he certainly gets the point now, and I have a firm grasp of it myself. “If she needs you to pretend like you’re hers, then… there’s this quaint little saying Molly likes to toss around: «Do the necessary.»”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“It means that you suck it up and do what has to be done, whether you like it or not, whether you consider it fair or not, whether it requires breaking the rules or not. Just get the job done.”
The dissatisfied ‘hmph’ I get in return tells me that he understands but does not necessarily agree with this philosophy. Get used to it. Most of the world doesn’t play fair. Your so-called friends play dirty. You might have to as well.
***
It turns out Miki and Kenta are going clubbing after the amusement park trip, so we do a Chinese fire drill of a different sort, leaving in different groups than we arrived. Abe and Suzu head back home with Ben, while Hisao, Iwanako, and I ride along into the city with the clubbers.
One we arrive back at the Green Mark, Iwanako proves herself right. They’re more than a little bit casual about ID checks here, at least for paying guests and their associates. It’s fairly noisy in the bar, so we arrange ourselves in a close triangle around the high table. I have my back to two booths behind us, and servers wind behind all three of us to access the booths.
I offer to pick up the first round, on the philosophy that the party never gets any smaller. I flag down a waiter and he takes our orders – dirty martinis for Hisao and me, and he turns to Iwanako, who he addresses as ‘my good lady’ with a bow. She orders an appletini.
“Really? Could you get any girlier?” I ask as the waiter walks away.
“Hey, I get as much kick as your martinis, just watch,” she says while giving me a gentle nudge, then grabs my arm to steady us both when she realizes just how unstable these high chairs are. “Besides, I like apple.”
Before the drinks can arrive, the hostess who initially seated us returns to inform us that there is now a booth available, so we relocate. Thankfully, it’s a fair bit quieter along the wall, as well as not being elevated. Although the small U-shaped booth is meant to hold four, it’s probably more comfortable for three. All of us hesitate, so Hisao shrugs and slides into the center seat. I settle in on his right, as he probably expects by now.
“They’re not going to lose track of us, are they?” I ask.
“I doubt it,” she says, shaking her head. “I think he knows what I look like by now, although I’ve always sat at the bar before. I’ve moved between seats there though, and it never seems to be an issue. Should we get something to munch on as well?”
Hisao grabs a menu from the holder in the center of the table and leafs through it. “This is all drinks.”
“Well, yeah. It’s a bar.” She looks at him as if he’s a bit slow, then hands him a single laminated card. Pointing at a particular spot, she says, “This is probably what we want, unless it doesn’t work for you.” She waves to indicate she means both of us. What she has indicated is a sampler basket of fried cheese, onion rings, and garlic fries.
The waiter returns with our drinks, so he has indeed not lost track of us in the move. “Will this be charged to the room tonight?” he asks Iwanako.
She says yes as Hisao says no, holding up a familiar debit card.
“I–,” she starts.
“Nope,” he interrupts. “Not happening.”
She folds her arms in protest, but the waiter takes the card. “Is there anything else I could do for you right now?”
I chime in to break the impasse. “Sampler basket?”
The waiter nods. “Good choice. Enjoy your drinks and I’ll be back with your basket in about ten minutes.” He bows and leaves.
Given the size of the crowd tonight, that’s pretty good turnaround time for fried food. I try to get Iwanako out of her offended mode. “Before you get too indignant about it, be aware that he’s spending my mother’s money, which is really quite alright. Buying someone a martini is her idea of good hospitality.”
“Very well, then. Cheers!” She takes a drink from the edge of her glass without lifting it. How the waiter managed to carry it that absurdly full without spilling is a mystery, until I see her top it off from a small glass off to the side. “They make sure you get what you pay for around here. If it doesn’t all fit in the glass, they give you another glass.”
“Mmm, noted.” I’ll have to make sure we do the same if we get that liquor licence. Nothing shoots down a reputation faster than customers feeling cheated.
We drink. We gossip. We drink. We eat unhealthy comfort food. We plan for Tanabata. We drink some more. During a trip to the restroom, I realize that I am rather drunk. I’m fine until I get there, but once I sit down, all bets are off. I get back to find that time is playing tricks on me. I think I’m starting to nod off between moments of lucidity, yet I finish the drink in front of me.
“Darling,” Hisao’s voice drifts across as if carried on the wind, “we have missed the last bus back to town. In fact, we missed it quite some time ago.”
“Mmm.” I can feel tendrils of thought sludge their way through my head. “Why don’t we get a room?”
“You can try,” Iwanako points out, “but it’s two days before Tanabata. Good luck with that. I think you’d be better off crashing at my place tonight – and I am very much ready to crash. I’ll request a roll-away and you two can have the bed.”
I nod my assent and try to stand, which is fine so long as I have a table to hold on to, but walking is not going to work out so well. I slump over the end of the table, holding myself mostly upright.
Hisao slides out of the booth behind me, apparently still somewhat functional. He helps me sit on the end of the seat. “Give me your leg.”
“What?” This makes no sense.
“I’ll request a wheelchair. You sit in it, she can lean on it, and we’ll all get upstairs together. But first, they need convincing you are a different kind of legless.”
I do as he says, blink, and we’re in the lobby. I blink again and we’re getting out of the elevator. One more blink, and all three of us are settling into one huge bed. Yet another blink, and I awake to the flickering light of a television, needing to use the restroom again. Luckily, I don’t have to climb over anyone, but I do have to crawl there like a three-legged dog. Serves me right, making a fool of myself the very first time I go to a bar.
I force myself to drink two glasses of water before climbing back into the bed to curl up within Hisao’s spoon shape, which itself lies within Iwanako’s. This seems familiar. Then I shut my own lights.
***
My head is ringing. Make it stop. I try to pull a pillow over my head, grasping about blindly, until I make contact with something – make that someone – that is definitely not going to serve the purpose, then my flailing arms are restrained.
“Ow! What the… is she always like this in the morning?” asks a female voice.
Where am I? Who is that?
“I’ve never seen her do that before.” A voice I recognize. “I’ve never had to wheel her out of harm’s way before either, though.” I can feel Hisao take a seat on the edge of the bed – a large bed, I note, and neither his nor mine. “Calm down, darling. You just about knocked our hostess unconscious.”
I crack one eye open just long enough to get a look, then shut it tight again although the curtains are closed. I guess I’m lucky for a change to only have the one hand, as it put Iwanako mostly out of my reach. “By the Old Gods and the New, what happened?”
“You don’t remember?” He starts to work on my shoulders a bit. “We spent most of the evening running up a phenomenal bar tab, half of which was yours. Then I had to wheel you up here in a borrowed hotel wheelchair. It was all I could think to do, since neither of you were fit to walk unassisted and I can’t carry you both. How do you feel?”
“Like a military academy. Bits of me keep passing out.”
“Now that I’ve counted my teeth and made sure my nose isn’t broken,” Iwanako chimes in, “I’ll order some breakfast. How do you take your eggs, are you allergic to anything, or did you become vegan overnight?”
Hanako was right about hangovers. “I need salt. Ham and bacon and scrambled eggs sounds mighty good. Coffee too.” Once I sit up, I realize that things are probably going to get worse before they get better, because I clearly haven’t sobered up yet. “Why’d you let me drink so damn much?”
“Who am I to judge your limits?” His hands move to working on my back. “You have more experience at this than I do.”
Iwanako is ordering on the room phone. I glance about, finding that my leg is leaning against the wall next to the front door. “Would you mind fetching my leg?” I ask Hisao. I vaguely remember crawling to the restroom now. “I’d rather not crawl to the loo – again – and my head wouldn’t much care for hopping.” After removing the shoe, I quickly check for damage, dirt, and spiders in the socket before fitting it, and grab my small purse.
Once behind a closed door and drained of fluid, I take stock of my condition. I have pink, wrinkled lines in my skin, including my face, from laying in and on rumpled clothing and covers, and I smell a little bit off as well. I’m a right dog’s breakfast. I wash my face, brush and slick back my hair as best I can, and gargle water. That will have to do for now, as my clothes are hopelessly wrinkled. I regret sending our amusement park clothes back with Ben, but this situation was a bit beyond my ability to predict.
When I return to the shared part of the room, I find that Iwanako was wise enough to get a separate side order of garlic potato wedges along with our breakfast plates. At least we’ll all smell like garlic together.
-----------------
NEXT CHAPTER
“No, I don’t insist. It’s not my place to do so.” I shake my head to emphasize my point. “But you really should go home for a little while before classes start up again, and it’ll be more pleasant if you’re not alone.” Our chair rises higher and squeaks slightly as it swings since the wheel turns in fits and starts, having to swap occupants one chair at a time.
“I agree on both points,” Hisao says as he sighs. “I just think my parents will find it a bit strange if I step off the train with… well, anyone other than you, really.”
“Well then, maybe I can follow a few days behind. It has been a very long time since I last saw Tokyo. What I remember most was knowing just how easy it would be to disappear into the crowd and get trampled, having hardly a clue which way to go. Then, I could barely read the signs, and I was about yea tall…” I hold my hand less than a meter off the deck where our feet rest.
“Oh, so last week?”
I backhand him in the shoulder. “Very funny.” I stick my tongue out before putting my serious face back on. “Even now I’ll be a tourist, and that’s not what you need at the start. It’s not what she needs either.”
“About that – I’m not sure just what she expects of me.”
“Closure. Not an end to your friendship, but an end to the constant ostracism she receives. She believes that once people see the two of you in the same place at the same time, and they see that you are far from dead, they’ll stop treating her like poison.”
“She isn’t to blame for anything. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.” He shakes his head sadly. “I had no idea the people who I used to call my friends could be such jerks.”
“I know that. So does she. We’re not the ones who need convincing.” I stare directly into his eyes and hold my gaze for several seconds before continuing in low tones. “She was there when it mattered. Sure, it didn’t work out in the end, but it was enough to get you here, and she paid a high price for it. You can’t undo any of that, but you might put an end to her troubles. I certainly don’t think it’s too much to ask that you try.”
“Certainly, I’ll do what I can, but I have a strange feeling she may ask for something I can’t deliver, something more personal. I’m worried she might ask…”
I cut him off before he can tie himself in linguistic knots. “I know exactly what you’re afraid of. Don’t be. If it comes down to that, just do the right thing.” I give him another long, meaningful stare. “I’m certainly no fair and innocent maiden.” I add a quick reach across my body to demonstrate. If he didn’t before, he certainly gets the point now, and I have a firm grasp of it myself. “If she needs you to pretend like you’re hers, then… there’s this quaint little saying Molly likes to toss around: «Do the necessary.»”
“What exactly does that mean?”
“It means that you suck it up and do what has to be done, whether you like it or not, whether you consider it fair or not, whether it requires breaking the rules or not. Just get the job done.”
The dissatisfied ‘hmph’ I get in return tells me that he understands but does not necessarily agree with this philosophy. Get used to it. Most of the world doesn’t play fair. Your so-called friends play dirty. You might have to as well.
***
It turns out Miki and Kenta are going clubbing after the amusement park trip, so we do a Chinese fire drill of a different sort, leaving in different groups than we arrived. Abe and Suzu head back home with Ben, while Hisao, Iwanako, and I ride along into the city with the clubbers.
One we arrive back at the Green Mark, Iwanako proves herself right. They’re more than a little bit casual about ID checks here, at least for paying guests and their associates. It’s fairly noisy in the bar, so we arrange ourselves in a close triangle around the high table. I have my back to two booths behind us, and servers wind behind all three of us to access the booths.
I offer to pick up the first round, on the philosophy that the party never gets any smaller. I flag down a waiter and he takes our orders – dirty martinis for Hisao and me, and he turns to Iwanako, who he addresses as ‘my good lady’ with a bow. She orders an appletini.
“Really? Could you get any girlier?” I ask as the waiter walks away.
“Hey, I get as much kick as your martinis, just watch,” she says while giving me a gentle nudge, then grabs my arm to steady us both when she realizes just how unstable these high chairs are. “Besides, I like apple.”
Before the drinks can arrive, the hostess who initially seated us returns to inform us that there is now a booth available, so we relocate. Thankfully, it’s a fair bit quieter along the wall, as well as not being elevated. Although the small U-shaped booth is meant to hold four, it’s probably more comfortable for three. All of us hesitate, so Hisao shrugs and slides into the center seat. I settle in on his right, as he probably expects by now.
“They’re not going to lose track of us, are they?” I ask.
“I doubt it,” she says, shaking her head. “I think he knows what I look like by now, although I’ve always sat at the bar before. I’ve moved between seats there though, and it never seems to be an issue. Should we get something to munch on as well?”
Hisao grabs a menu from the holder in the center of the table and leafs through it. “This is all drinks.”
“Well, yeah. It’s a bar.” She looks at him as if he’s a bit slow, then hands him a single laminated card. Pointing at a particular spot, she says, “This is probably what we want, unless it doesn’t work for you.” She waves to indicate she means both of us. What she has indicated is a sampler basket of fried cheese, onion rings, and garlic fries.
The waiter returns with our drinks, so he has indeed not lost track of us in the move. “Will this be charged to the room tonight?” he asks Iwanako.
She says yes as Hisao says no, holding up a familiar debit card.
“I–,” she starts.
“Nope,” he interrupts. “Not happening.”
She folds her arms in protest, but the waiter takes the card. “Is there anything else I could do for you right now?”
I chime in to break the impasse. “Sampler basket?”
The waiter nods. “Good choice. Enjoy your drinks and I’ll be back with your basket in about ten minutes.” He bows and leaves.
Given the size of the crowd tonight, that’s pretty good turnaround time for fried food. I try to get Iwanako out of her offended mode. “Before you get too indignant about it, be aware that he’s spending my mother’s money, which is really quite alright. Buying someone a martini is her idea of good hospitality.”
“Very well, then. Cheers!” She takes a drink from the edge of her glass without lifting it. How the waiter managed to carry it that absurdly full without spilling is a mystery, until I see her top it off from a small glass off to the side. “They make sure you get what you pay for around here. If it doesn’t all fit in the glass, they give you another glass.”
“Mmm, noted.” I’ll have to make sure we do the same if we get that liquor licence. Nothing shoots down a reputation faster than customers feeling cheated.
We drink. We gossip. We drink. We eat unhealthy comfort food. We plan for Tanabata. We drink some more. During a trip to the restroom, I realize that I am rather drunk. I’m fine until I get there, but once I sit down, all bets are off. I get back to find that time is playing tricks on me. I think I’m starting to nod off between moments of lucidity, yet I finish the drink in front of me.
“Darling,” Hisao’s voice drifts across as if carried on the wind, “we have missed the last bus back to town. In fact, we missed it quite some time ago.”
“Mmm.” I can feel tendrils of thought sludge their way through my head. “Why don’t we get a room?”
“You can try,” Iwanako points out, “but it’s two days before Tanabata. Good luck with that. I think you’d be better off crashing at my place tonight – and I am very much ready to crash. I’ll request a roll-away and you two can have the bed.”
I nod my assent and try to stand, which is fine so long as I have a table to hold on to, but walking is not going to work out so well. I slump over the end of the table, holding myself mostly upright.
Hisao slides out of the booth behind me, apparently still somewhat functional. He helps me sit on the end of the seat. “Give me your leg.”
“What?” This makes no sense.
“I’ll request a wheelchair. You sit in it, she can lean on it, and we’ll all get upstairs together. But first, they need convincing you are a different kind of legless.”
I do as he says, blink, and we’re in the lobby. I blink again and we’re getting out of the elevator. One more blink, and all three of us are settling into one huge bed. Yet another blink, and I awake to the flickering light of a television, needing to use the restroom again. Luckily, I don’t have to climb over anyone, but I do have to crawl there like a three-legged dog. Serves me right, making a fool of myself the very first time I go to a bar.
I force myself to drink two glasses of water before climbing back into the bed to curl up within Hisao’s spoon shape, which itself lies within Iwanako’s. This seems familiar. Then I shut my own lights.
***
My head is ringing. Make it stop. I try to pull a pillow over my head, grasping about blindly, until I make contact with something – make that someone – that is definitely not going to serve the purpose, then my flailing arms are restrained.
“Ow! What the… is she always like this in the morning?” asks a female voice.
Where am I? Who is that?
“I’ve never seen her do that before.” A voice I recognize. “I’ve never had to wheel her out of harm’s way before either, though.” I can feel Hisao take a seat on the edge of the bed – a large bed, I note, and neither his nor mine. “Calm down, darling. You just about knocked our hostess unconscious.”
I crack one eye open just long enough to get a look, then shut it tight again although the curtains are closed. I guess I’m lucky for a change to only have the one hand, as it put Iwanako mostly out of my reach. “By the Old Gods and the New, what happened?”
“You don’t remember?” He starts to work on my shoulders a bit. “We spent most of the evening running up a phenomenal bar tab, half of which was yours. Then I had to wheel you up here in a borrowed hotel wheelchair. It was all I could think to do, since neither of you were fit to walk unassisted and I can’t carry you both. How do you feel?”
“Like a military academy. Bits of me keep passing out.”
“Now that I’ve counted my teeth and made sure my nose isn’t broken,” Iwanako chimes in, “I’ll order some breakfast. How do you take your eggs, are you allergic to anything, or did you become vegan overnight?”
Hanako was right about hangovers. “I need salt. Ham and bacon and scrambled eggs sounds mighty good. Coffee too.” Once I sit up, I realize that things are probably going to get worse before they get better, because I clearly haven’t sobered up yet. “Why’d you let me drink so damn much?”
“Who am I to judge your limits?” His hands move to working on my back. “You have more experience at this than I do.”
Iwanako is ordering on the room phone. I glance about, finding that my leg is leaning against the wall next to the front door. “Would you mind fetching my leg?” I ask Hisao. I vaguely remember crawling to the restroom now. “I’d rather not crawl to the loo – again – and my head wouldn’t much care for hopping.” After removing the shoe, I quickly check for damage, dirt, and spiders in the socket before fitting it, and grab my small purse.
Once behind a closed door and drained of fluid, I take stock of my condition. I have pink, wrinkled lines in my skin, including my face, from laying in and on rumpled clothing and covers, and I smell a little bit off as well. I’m a right dog’s breakfast. I wash my face, brush and slick back my hair as best I can, and gargle water. That will have to do for now, as my clothes are hopelessly wrinkled. I regret sending our amusement park clothes back with Ben, but this situation was a bit beyond my ability to predict.
When I return to the shared part of the room, I find that Iwanako was wise enough to get a separate side order of garlic potato wedges along with our breakfast plates. At least we’ll all smell like garlic together.
-----------------
NEXT CHAPTER
Last edited by NekoDude on Mon Nov 03, 2014 1:27 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Increased update rate.
Since I'm planning on closing the second book in five days of in-universe time, I don't see as much value in trying to maintain a 40-page buffer between writing and posting. This means I'll be updating a bit more frequently, even if I don't write any faster. Three Of A Perfect Pair is already over 100,000 words, making it longer than the first although the number of pages is less.
That's the good news. More good news is that once I complete it, I'll post this book as a .mobi file for Kindle as well. There is some offsetting bad news though -- once I've posted the book in its entirety, I will have to rebuild my buffer before I start posting chapters of the third.
That's the good news. More good news is that once I complete it, I'll post this book as a .mobi file for Kindle as well. There is some offsetting bad news though -- once I've posted the book in its entirety, I will have to rebuild my buffer before I start posting chapters of the third.
Re: "Three Of A Perfect Pair" (Neko Bk2) Smoke on the Water
KENTA
“You know what the problem was, I assume.” I watch Miki’s eyes to see if I need to go on. Apparently I do. “Everyone seemed to think we’re a couple.” It’s not like we act the part, but there are plenty of real couples who avoid public displays of affection as well.
“That seems a bit of a leap to me, considering we spent most of the evening in a gay club, and it’s not like we’re complete strangers there.” Apparently she has forgotten about bisexuals, which is odd, considering she recently broke up with one.
“Not exactly. It’s an alternative club, which includes everything from straight guys who like to wear women’s clothing, to the fully transgendered. One thing you can count on is that they’re not quick to jump to conclusions, which is both a blessing and a curse. Also, they get a lot of people who are there on curiosity alone, which they are quick to accept. They need the money.” Taking a thousand yen off each curious individual who just wants to see what a drag show is all about is a significant source of revenue for a club that can’t sell alcohol.
“Whatever. If I don’t get to indulge that vice tonight, I’m inclined to settle for one or two I know won’t fail me. Do you want to come back with me for drinks, or shall I just run you back home?”
“They won’t mind?” I haven’t been to the ranch but the one time, so I don’t really know how they feel about people dropping in unexpectedly.
She just snickers. “Sally left me in charge, rather than her own daughter. So long as I don’t screw up her business, I don’t really have to ask permission. If I want company, then you’re welcome because I said so.”
I weigh the offer. What’s the worst that could happen? I could be given the cold shoulder by the staff, but we just spent the day with them. If she is unwilling or unable to drive me back, I’d have to walk or run, but three kilometers won’t kill me, even in the middle of the night. Or maybe I do stay over, and get into other kinds of trouble – but there’s only one person who is even remotely obtainable, and what the hell, I liked it the last time.
I nod. “Sure, why not.”
My parents would have a fit if they could read my mind right now. As far as they have ever known, this is inconceivable. I’m having flights of fancy… for a girl.
***
“Stand back. This isn’t the least bit forgiving. No safeties.” She pulls a remote control from a shelf and the wall starts to rotate out of the way. Once fully open, she steps inside and lights turn on seemingly by themselves. “You can choose your own poison, or trust my tastes.”
We wander down the stairs, and the temperature drops noticeably along the way. This must be the wine cellar I’d heard about, but never before seen. There must be cubbies for thousands of bottles, but a good proportion of them are empty. “Are there always this many vacancies?”
“A lot of the time, yes. Most of the storage is short-term, just a warehouse between receiving and shipping. The stock is particularly depleted at the moment though, between stores stocking up for Tanabata, and that party. I wasn’t even invited.”
I laugh before I realize she’s actually offended. “Hardly anybody else was invited either. We just heard about it and showed up. You just had to know someone who knew about it… and I’d have to imagine everyone here was aware. Surely you knew. I doubt they would have turned you away.”
“Of course I knew, and don’t call me Shirley. Since I’ve actually had Hawaiian food, I had to taste-test everything in the week leading up to it, while they fine-tuned the recipes. When the situation ballooned, I chose what wine we could spare since only I knew what had already been ordered.”
I have my doubts that she really minded being left in control. “Most people went for the punch anyhow. The wine ran out pretty quickly. It was an event that will be remembered for quite a while – better by some than by others, to be sure.” My wallet certainly remembers.
“Pick something that goes with meat, if you care about such things. There are meatballs and sausages galore to be reheated. Personally, I’m not wasting time.” She pulls a bottle of Grey Goose from the rack and tucks it under her arm.
I grab a bottle of red that, if memory serves, isn’t excessively dry. I’m hardly an expert on such matters, but I do know a red wine should be fine at the temperature of the cellar. I gesture back toward the stairs to let her know I’m done, and she fishes in her pocket for the remote.
“Would you mind carrying this?” She extends the vodka in my direction. “If I dropped it, that really would piss them off.”
Back in the dining room, I set the bottles on the table while she closes the cellar door. “I meant what I said about no safeties. The people who owned this place before used it as a panic room, so when we tell the door to open or close, it just does, no matter what – or who – might be in the way.”
“Delightful. I’ll keep that in mind if I ever have the option of rushing through as it’s moving.” The door of dismemberment.
Meatball sandwiches and red wine prove refreshing, but not exactly what I’d been hoping for from this weekend. I had really hoped I could pick up someone from out of town who I wouldn’t have to worry about running into again, and no doubt she had the same intentions.
“Give me a moment, and I’ll find us a more relaxing scene.” She disappears into the master bedroom, and when she comes out a few minutes later, clad in a bathrobe, she tosses a pair of swim trunks at me with the bandaged arm. “Are you up to a soak? It seems to make the alcohol set in faster.”
“Doesn’t it take a while to warm up?”
“Sure does. That’s why we’re lucky it was already in use tonight. It’s only been off for an hour or so, and should still be pleasantly warm and come up to temperature quickly.”
I don’t know if her mind is going the same direction as mine, and I barely even dare to hope, considering how dismissive she was of the idea after our one prior encounter. I’m not about to pass up the possibility, however. I step into the restroom to change, then step out to be met with a flying towel, much the way I was met with the trunks before. It is rolled up and comes in slowly enough that I catch it against my chest so as not to drop my clothes.
“You have pretty good aim,” I remark as I pull in the bundle.
“My knuckleball was legendary,” she says wistfully. “I wasn’t a bad slap-hitter either. I tried to be a pull-hitter and hit home runs like the guys, to prove I was just as good, but all that did was make the defense shift toward right field and I kept hitting into them. I had to learn to poke the ball the other way to get them to spread out. As the saying goes, «‘hit ‘em where they ain’t.’»”
I roll up my clothing and set it on the couch. “I had no idea you were a softball player.”
This draws a haughty snicker. “Softball? Softball is a poor imitation of a real sport. I grew up playing baseball, with the boys of course. It wasn’t really a disadvantage at that age to play against the boys. In fact, the girls – and there were others – tended to be a little bit bigger than the boys. Some of them stick with it until the size and strength differences get to be too much. That was my intention as well, which is why I threw knucklers.” She tips her head to indicate that we should head for the pool area, and grabs the basket with our open bottles and empty glasses.
“What derailed that plan?” I ask as we walk.
“Japan did. They don’t let girls play in boys’ leagues here, at least in Okinawa. There may be enough demand in the larger cities to make it happen.”
So much for trying to coax the secret out of her gently. There’s apparently no connection between her hand and her aborted baseball career, but this line of conversation is opening up a whole new realm of questions. I guess I’m going to have to take a more direct route if I ever want to find out. “Stop me if I’m putting my nose where it doesn’t belong, but… why do you always keep your arm bandaged?”
This stops her dead in her tracks, and she glares at me momentarily. I stepped over the line, I think, then her expression lightens. She glances down at my borrowed swim trunks, then back into my eyes. “I don’t see you waving your dick in the wind.”
“Sometimes I might, if it was acceptable to do so. I mean, half the population has them, what’s the big deal?” Besides, I’ve seen you – all of you – and that didn’t seem to be a problem. “It’s not like anyone else sees it that way. Your situation is hardly unusual at Yamaku, and it’s unlikely that many people would care.”
She shrugs with her eyebrows, and resumes walking. “Maybe when I’m ready. At this point, it’s still a reminder that I can be a complete idiot.”
“Better than half an idiot, don’t you think?” This earns me a backhanded thump with the bandaged arm.
We slip into the pool area, and she closes the door behind her. “They don’t want this air in the house. I can’t say I blame them.” She makes the rounds opening the windows.
“So who exactly are ‘they’ right now?”
“Just Abe and Suzu, upstairs. Ben is off in town somewhere, for personal reasons.”
“Personal reasons?” I hadn’t really given much thought to his life.
“He has needs, just like we do. Well, not just like, but you know what I mean. He has a girlfriend not too far away… or two. I’ve never cared enough to pry.”
That’s a first. She seems to like knowing everything about everyone. Then again, she doesn’t seem to ask much. She just knows. My concern with her position at the top of the gossip pyramid is quickly forgotten as her bathrobe and her bandage hit the deck, and she slips into the bubbling water in the buff.
She catches me gawking, and grins. “You can do the same if you want, I don’t care. Right now, the place is mine, and if I want to treat it like my personal onsen, I will. I hope you don’t mind, but I dialed back the heat a little. I wore sunscreen today, but I still got just a little bit crispy around the edges.”
I slip into the water as well. It’s not quite up to temperature yet, but it’s certainly tolerable. “I think I’ll live. Now that you mention it, my ears feel a bit singed as well.”
She hands me the wine glass, then the bottle, then pours herself another glass, topping it off with an olive and some strange ritual involving speaking to the glass as if telling it a secret.
“What was that?”
“It’s not a martini without a whisper of vermouth… so that’s exactly what I do. I whisper ‘vermouth’.” Then she pulls something else out of the basket – a mint tin. Just as I think that olive brine and mint probably don’t pair too well, I realize the tin contains a different sort of consumable. She taps the spent ashes from her pipe onto the deck, and reloads it. Stabilizing the pipe with her lips and from beneath with her arm while lighting the bowl, she takes a deep drag before offering it to me. I just shake my head, so she swaps the lighter for the tin, using the flat bottom to starve the embers. Twenty seconds or so pass before she emits a stream of thin smoke. “It won’t kill you, you know.”
“It might be adding a split second to your times though. Good lung function is a nice thing to have.”
She shrugs with her eyebrows again. “It’s not like I can ever outrun you over a distance, nor can I catch your little darling in a sprint. Second place is second place. That’s always been good enough for the team.”
“Emi is not my little darling. She may have wished that I could be hers, but…”
“Right. So why is it you look at me that way?” She takes a second pull at the pipe.
“Short answer… I don’t know.” But I do have my suspicions. “I haven’t always, as you surely must be aware. One night can change a lot, not just between us, but within me as well. I’m no longer so sure exactly what I’m looking for. If only my parents knew, they’d probably be thrilled at the very concept. Between my brother and me, they’ve abandoned their hope for grandchildren, at least in the usual manner.”
“Why?” she grunts out, then waits until she has exhaled to continue. “I mean, it’s not going to stop me. Then again, I don’t particularly have to enjoy the experience. You do.”
That’s when I feel something reach me under the water, but she’s much too far away to be making a grab for me. Besides, I just watched her make maximal use of her ‘hand and a half’ as she calls them. I reach into the water, and come up with an ankle. Then I notice it’s probably no accident that she’s uh… hanging out above the waterline, and let go. “Are you implying that it should be me, now?”
“«Madre de Dios», no! I’m already promised – to a gay guy, even. I just want to know if the body can be induced to perform even when the brain isn’t in step.” She resumes her little game of footsie. “I can tell you’re getting the point.”
“Someone I know?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. I’m sure it would come as quite a surprise, but you would indeed be familiar with him. He can’t have me yet though, it’d get him in a lot of…” She glances around us. “…hot water. He has alternatives, and it’s only fair that I do as well.” Her toes curl and grab my attention once again.
This layer cake of intrigue is getting to be a bit overwhelming, so maybe it’s time to disengage the ego and engage the id. I give a lift of my head in the direction of her utility kit. “On second thought – pack a bowl for me.”
“You know what the problem was, I assume.” I watch Miki’s eyes to see if I need to go on. Apparently I do. “Everyone seemed to think we’re a couple.” It’s not like we act the part, but there are plenty of real couples who avoid public displays of affection as well.
“That seems a bit of a leap to me, considering we spent most of the evening in a gay club, and it’s not like we’re complete strangers there.” Apparently she has forgotten about bisexuals, which is odd, considering she recently broke up with one.
“Not exactly. It’s an alternative club, which includes everything from straight guys who like to wear women’s clothing, to the fully transgendered. One thing you can count on is that they’re not quick to jump to conclusions, which is both a blessing and a curse. Also, they get a lot of people who are there on curiosity alone, which they are quick to accept. They need the money.” Taking a thousand yen off each curious individual who just wants to see what a drag show is all about is a significant source of revenue for a club that can’t sell alcohol.
“Whatever. If I don’t get to indulge that vice tonight, I’m inclined to settle for one or two I know won’t fail me. Do you want to come back with me for drinks, or shall I just run you back home?”
“They won’t mind?” I haven’t been to the ranch but the one time, so I don’t really know how they feel about people dropping in unexpectedly.
She just snickers. “Sally left me in charge, rather than her own daughter. So long as I don’t screw up her business, I don’t really have to ask permission. If I want company, then you’re welcome because I said so.”
I weigh the offer. What’s the worst that could happen? I could be given the cold shoulder by the staff, but we just spent the day with them. If she is unwilling or unable to drive me back, I’d have to walk or run, but three kilometers won’t kill me, even in the middle of the night. Or maybe I do stay over, and get into other kinds of trouble – but there’s only one person who is even remotely obtainable, and what the hell, I liked it the last time.
I nod. “Sure, why not.”
My parents would have a fit if they could read my mind right now. As far as they have ever known, this is inconceivable. I’m having flights of fancy… for a girl.
***
“Stand back. This isn’t the least bit forgiving. No safeties.” She pulls a remote control from a shelf and the wall starts to rotate out of the way. Once fully open, she steps inside and lights turn on seemingly by themselves. “You can choose your own poison, or trust my tastes.”
We wander down the stairs, and the temperature drops noticeably along the way. This must be the wine cellar I’d heard about, but never before seen. There must be cubbies for thousands of bottles, but a good proportion of them are empty. “Are there always this many vacancies?”
“A lot of the time, yes. Most of the storage is short-term, just a warehouse between receiving and shipping. The stock is particularly depleted at the moment though, between stores stocking up for Tanabata, and that party. I wasn’t even invited.”
I laugh before I realize she’s actually offended. “Hardly anybody else was invited either. We just heard about it and showed up. You just had to know someone who knew about it… and I’d have to imagine everyone here was aware. Surely you knew. I doubt they would have turned you away.”
“Of course I knew, and don’t call me Shirley. Since I’ve actually had Hawaiian food, I had to taste-test everything in the week leading up to it, while they fine-tuned the recipes. When the situation ballooned, I chose what wine we could spare since only I knew what had already been ordered.”
I have my doubts that she really minded being left in control. “Most people went for the punch anyhow. The wine ran out pretty quickly. It was an event that will be remembered for quite a while – better by some than by others, to be sure.” My wallet certainly remembers.
“Pick something that goes with meat, if you care about such things. There are meatballs and sausages galore to be reheated. Personally, I’m not wasting time.” She pulls a bottle of Grey Goose from the rack and tucks it under her arm.
I grab a bottle of red that, if memory serves, isn’t excessively dry. I’m hardly an expert on such matters, but I do know a red wine should be fine at the temperature of the cellar. I gesture back toward the stairs to let her know I’m done, and she fishes in her pocket for the remote.
“Would you mind carrying this?” She extends the vodka in my direction. “If I dropped it, that really would piss them off.”
Back in the dining room, I set the bottles on the table while she closes the cellar door. “I meant what I said about no safeties. The people who owned this place before used it as a panic room, so when we tell the door to open or close, it just does, no matter what – or who – might be in the way.”
“Delightful. I’ll keep that in mind if I ever have the option of rushing through as it’s moving.” The door of dismemberment.
Meatball sandwiches and red wine prove refreshing, but not exactly what I’d been hoping for from this weekend. I had really hoped I could pick up someone from out of town who I wouldn’t have to worry about running into again, and no doubt she had the same intentions.
“Give me a moment, and I’ll find us a more relaxing scene.” She disappears into the master bedroom, and when she comes out a few minutes later, clad in a bathrobe, she tosses a pair of swim trunks at me with the bandaged arm. “Are you up to a soak? It seems to make the alcohol set in faster.”
“Doesn’t it take a while to warm up?”
“Sure does. That’s why we’re lucky it was already in use tonight. It’s only been off for an hour or so, and should still be pleasantly warm and come up to temperature quickly.”
I don’t know if her mind is going the same direction as mine, and I barely even dare to hope, considering how dismissive she was of the idea after our one prior encounter. I’m not about to pass up the possibility, however. I step into the restroom to change, then step out to be met with a flying towel, much the way I was met with the trunks before. It is rolled up and comes in slowly enough that I catch it against my chest so as not to drop my clothes.
“You have pretty good aim,” I remark as I pull in the bundle.
“My knuckleball was legendary,” she says wistfully. “I wasn’t a bad slap-hitter either. I tried to be a pull-hitter and hit home runs like the guys, to prove I was just as good, but all that did was make the defense shift toward right field and I kept hitting into them. I had to learn to poke the ball the other way to get them to spread out. As the saying goes, «‘hit ‘em where they ain’t.’»”
I roll up my clothing and set it on the couch. “I had no idea you were a softball player.”
This draws a haughty snicker. “Softball? Softball is a poor imitation of a real sport. I grew up playing baseball, with the boys of course. It wasn’t really a disadvantage at that age to play against the boys. In fact, the girls – and there were others – tended to be a little bit bigger than the boys. Some of them stick with it until the size and strength differences get to be too much. That was my intention as well, which is why I threw knucklers.” She tips her head to indicate that we should head for the pool area, and grabs the basket with our open bottles and empty glasses.
“What derailed that plan?” I ask as we walk.
“Japan did. They don’t let girls play in boys’ leagues here, at least in Okinawa. There may be enough demand in the larger cities to make it happen.”
So much for trying to coax the secret out of her gently. There’s apparently no connection between her hand and her aborted baseball career, but this line of conversation is opening up a whole new realm of questions. I guess I’m going to have to take a more direct route if I ever want to find out. “Stop me if I’m putting my nose where it doesn’t belong, but… why do you always keep your arm bandaged?”
This stops her dead in her tracks, and she glares at me momentarily. I stepped over the line, I think, then her expression lightens. She glances down at my borrowed swim trunks, then back into my eyes. “I don’t see you waving your dick in the wind.”
“Sometimes I might, if it was acceptable to do so. I mean, half the population has them, what’s the big deal?” Besides, I’ve seen you – all of you – and that didn’t seem to be a problem. “It’s not like anyone else sees it that way. Your situation is hardly unusual at Yamaku, and it’s unlikely that many people would care.”
She shrugs with her eyebrows, and resumes walking. “Maybe when I’m ready. At this point, it’s still a reminder that I can be a complete idiot.”
“Better than half an idiot, don’t you think?” This earns me a backhanded thump with the bandaged arm.
We slip into the pool area, and she closes the door behind her. “They don’t want this air in the house. I can’t say I blame them.” She makes the rounds opening the windows.
“So who exactly are ‘they’ right now?”
“Just Abe and Suzu, upstairs. Ben is off in town somewhere, for personal reasons.”
“Personal reasons?” I hadn’t really given much thought to his life.
“He has needs, just like we do. Well, not just like, but you know what I mean. He has a girlfriend not too far away… or two. I’ve never cared enough to pry.”
That’s a first. She seems to like knowing everything about everyone. Then again, she doesn’t seem to ask much. She just knows. My concern with her position at the top of the gossip pyramid is quickly forgotten as her bathrobe and her bandage hit the deck, and she slips into the bubbling water in the buff.
She catches me gawking, and grins. “You can do the same if you want, I don’t care. Right now, the place is mine, and if I want to treat it like my personal onsen, I will. I hope you don’t mind, but I dialed back the heat a little. I wore sunscreen today, but I still got just a little bit crispy around the edges.”
I slip into the water as well. It’s not quite up to temperature yet, but it’s certainly tolerable. “I think I’ll live. Now that you mention it, my ears feel a bit singed as well.”
She hands me the wine glass, then the bottle, then pours herself another glass, topping it off with an olive and some strange ritual involving speaking to the glass as if telling it a secret.
“What was that?”
“It’s not a martini without a whisper of vermouth… so that’s exactly what I do. I whisper ‘vermouth’.” Then she pulls something else out of the basket – a mint tin. Just as I think that olive brine and mint probably don’t pair too well, I realize the tin contains a different sort of consumable. She taps the spent ashes from her pipe onto the deck, and reloads it. Stabilizing the pipe with her lips and from beneath with her arm while lighting the bowl, she takes a deep drag before offering it to me. I just shake my head, so she swaps the lighter for the tin, using the flat bottom to starve the embers. Twenty seconds or so pass before she emits a stream of thin smoke. “It won’t kill you, you know.”
“It might be adding a split second to your times though. Good lung function is a nice thing to have.”
She shrugs with her eyebrows again. “It’s not like I can ever outrun you over a distance, nor can I catch your little darling in a sprint. Second place is second place. That’s always been good enough for the team.”
“Emi is not my little darling. She may have wished that I could be hers, but…”
“Right. So why is it you look at me that way?” She takes a second pull at the pipe.
“Short answer… I don’t know.” But I do have my suspicions. “I haven’t always, as you surely must be aware. One night can change a lot, not just between us, but within me as well. I’m no longer so sure exactly what I’m looking for. If only my parents knew, they’d probably be thrilled at the very concept. Between my brother and me, they’ve abandoned their hope for grandchildren, at least in the usual manner.”
“Why?” she grunts out, then waits until she has exhaled to continue. “I mean, it’s not going to stop me. Then again, I don’t particularly have to enjoy the experience. You do.”
That’s when I feel something reach me under the water, but she’s much too far away to be making a grab for me. Besides, I just watched her make maximal use of her ‘hand and a half’ as she calls them. I reach into the water, and come up with an ankle. Then I notice it’s probably no accident that she’s uh… hanging out above the waterline, and let go. “Are you implying that it should be me, now?”
“«Madre de Dios», no! I’m already promised – to a gay guy, even. I just want to know if the body can be induced to perform even when the brain isn’t in step.” She resumes her little game of footsie. “I can tell you’re getting the point.”
“Someone I know?”
“As a matter of fact, yes. I’m sure it would come as quite a surprise, but you would indeed be familiar with him. He can’t have me yet though, it’d get him in a lot of…” She glances around us. “…hot water. He has alternatives, and it’s only fair that I do as well.” Her toes curl and grab my attention once again.
This layer cake of intrigue is getting to be a bit overwhelming, so maybe it’s time to disengage the ego and engage the id. I give a lift of my head in the direction of her utility kit. “On second thought – pack a bowl for me.”