herpaderp writings (Children: A Lilly - Hisao - Akira fic)

[i_do_shit]

I shall use this post as a central hub for whatever fiction I write in this thread.

Anyway, not much for now. Ongoing story to follow.
Also I love feedback.

[Catgirl Kleptocracy]

Philip Marlowe would be proud.

[i_do_shit]

I wished to post these anonymously, then I realized not making an account was kinda retarded since I couldn't edit my own thread.
So I made another. If an admin could move the one that was made a few hours ago into this, I would be most grateful.

Anyway, more writings about Lilly. I also wanted to start off in a new thread since I opted for a completely different style, having no interest in writing ten thousand words on the ramblings of "insane, drunk abusive Hisao".

---

One morning. You wake up and it's gone. Like a bad dream, or a cold.
That's all it takes.

One morning.

But the change is gradual. You don't see it at first. Then come the doubts. They nag at you. And the more you try to ignore them, the more persistent they become.
Soon, you're left with an ugly, 800-pound gorilla sleeping comfortably in a corner of the room.

By the time the realization hits you, you're not even bothered anymore. I can't decide if I should find that cheerful or pathetic.


And so here I am, sitting in a silver Lexus, dodging cars like bullets on the highway.
My wife sits next to me, in the passenger seat, silent. The atmosphere feels crystalised.
I'm almost afraid that cutting through the thick air would break her.

Finally, she speaks up.

"How was your day?"

Lilly's voice shatters the quiet of the cockpit. I look at her. Streetlights reverberate on her milky white skin.

I've mostly been working odd jobs for the past two years. They helped me take my mind off the dull platitude which has become my daily life. But hitting knuckleheads in the face with a baseball bat only gets you so far.

"Fine."

My response doesn't seem to faze her. Honestly, I don't see very well the point of having these conversations anymore. She knows I'll always reply the same. I don't even bother asking her about school.

God, I just wish there was something I could do about it.

If the car caught on fire right now, I couldn't even see her react.

_*
*_l*

At home, she cooks the evening's meal while I wash the bloodstains off my clothes. By nine, we've both hit the bottles. Her, because she thinks I don't care about her; me, to remind myself not to care anymore. By ten, we've drunk ourselves to a stupour, and by eleven, the house slumbers peacefully once again.

Killing an 800-pound gorilla is an ugly business. If you're not careful, it jumps at you, grabs you by the throat, and eviscerates you with a single strike. And even if you are, even once you've got it cornered, it fights for its life, kicking and tearing at everything in a desperate attempt to escape. And once you've finally put a bullet to its brain, and you're left to contemplate your bruised and battered body, you start wondering who did the most damage.

But even then I wouldn't go back. Even if I was given the chance, I couldn't cheat fate any more than I could cheat my own mind. For every time I tried to convince myself things were different, I found her looking at me with her pearly blue eyes, giving me the desperately empty stare I've grown accustomed to. And somehow, she always knew that something was wrong.

And she always found a way to tell me.


I stop at the door, and turn around to kiss her. Our embrace feels lifeless. She faces me, frozen in surprise for a moment. I want to apologize, but I'm afraid of opening up to her. I'm afraid of breaking down.

I don't recognize Lilly anymore. This skin I touch, these lips I kiss, these strands of hair I play with, nothing of it seems like her.
She's grown alien to me.

I wish I was drunk right now.


I would really appreciate comments/feedback on this. As usual, I will try to write more (with an actual follow-up.)

EDIT: Halfway through this I seem to have forgotten Lilly was blind (I know.) As I am quite tired, I'll probably fix this tomorrow.

[i_do_shit]

And here's seconds. Boy, writing takes me forever. More to come.

------

The pitter-patter of the rain keeps me awake through the night.

"Hey."

Tip tip tip tip.

"Yeah, it's me."

Splitch splatch splitch splatch.

"Hey listen, could I see you?"

Somewhere in the house, someone left a window open.

"Yeah, that sounds fine."

I wonder what Lilly's up to.

"Alright. See you there."

I wonder if she's sleeping. I wonder what she's dreaming of.

I snap the cellphone closed.

There's a break in the rain. As if the incessant thrumming decided to stop on its own accord, for an instant.

I know it's just the wind.


_*
*_l*

The Black Eagle was a textbook example of a club gone bad. Once the refuge of late-night intellectuals, jazz musicians and other obscure celebrities, the small establishment had become a haven for hoodlums, lowlifes, and all of the city's undesirables. While not my location of choice for a meet, I have to admit the place is relatively low-key, and unlikely to attract much attention.
Akira doesn't like attention.

I sit next to her, taking my place at the bar. Bad techno music is blaring in my ears. A balding individual in a tee shirt two sizes too small serves me something that could pass for scotch, while three men busy themselves by eye-fucking a young girl who looks completely out of place.

I turn over at the woman in the suit.

"Glad to see you in some more casual attire for once," she says. "Business doesn't suit you."

"It doesn't suit you either," I reply.

"Thanks for the compliment."

The sarcasm in Akira's voice isn't too stinging. After working with her for years, I've grown accustomed to her cheerful, yet level-headed attitude.

"So, what's up?"

She stares at me for a moment. Dead eyes and poker face. I sigh.

"I don't know. I guess I wanted to talk to you."

Thankfully, she's looking back at her drink now. I continue:

"It's odd, it's just this feeling-"

She interrupts me, motioning over at the small group who now positively look as if they are about to rape the girl:

"Think we should help?"

I grumble.

"I fucking guess so."

Akira-White-Knight Satou, lead the way.


We zero in on the thugs. The largest one of them, possibly their leader in interim, turns around to give us a stupid look, while his scrawny colleagues pursue their ministrations.

"Is there a problem?"

The words escape his mouth like refuse sputtering out of a wrecked garbage truck. I contemplate the brute; he reeks of perspiration, and has a body like an ox.

"No problem?"

I hunch over, grabbing a cue ball from a nearby pool table. My clenched fist connects with the face of the thug, sending him flying across the room. His acolytes, visibly startled, look at me in disbelief.

"Get the fuck out of here."

Heads turn in our direction. I repeat myself, stressing every word:

"Get. The fuck. Out of here."


They leave with their defeated accomplice without making much of a scene. Before I can make sense of my surroundings again, Akira hurriedly drags me out of the club.

"Let's go. With what happened just now, I'm not very interested in paying a bar tab."

Still holding on to her hand, I ask, worriedly:

-Where are we going?

-Where is your car?

-I came here by foot. You?

-By the corner. Come on.

Before I know it, we've reached the vehicle, a dark red sedan of cheap make. I resist the urge to comment on the unexpected appearance; nevertheless, Akira seems to be set on answering my unspoken question:

"I had to borrow this from a, uh... friend."

I suppress a chuckle. Looks like I wasn't the only one having a fun night. And obviously, Akira had quite the headstart.

I am quick to climb into the car, the rain chilling me to the bone.

_*
*_l*

The gentle rainfall of the evening soon progresses to a storm. Torrents of water pouring from the sky now hit the windshield in full force. Uncaring for the elements raging outside, Akira drives absentmindedly, taking a sharp turn from time to time in order to avoid arriving at anywhere in particular.

I repeat my question from earlier:

"Where are we going?"

Akira gives me a quizzical stare, her grin stretching wide across her face like a glasgow smile.

"You tell me. You're the one that said you needed to talk."

I feel like the burst of adrenaline from our escape cleared my head. I want to move. I need to move, to go somewhere, to do something. But what?

I cradle myself nervously in my seat.

"Hisao, I know that something's up. You don't have to tell me about it now if that's what you want, but you know I'll find out, eventually."

As I matured, I realized that Akira was actually really bad at being comforting. Just now, I can't even tell if that was her intent or an attempt at being menacing. With the history we have, it could go both ways.

"Is it about Lilly?"

Bam. Right between the eyes. And what a fine target I must make. Akira the game-hunter, Akira the hope-crusher, brings in the catch of the day.

I look down at my feet, refusing to break the thick cloud of silence.

And I open the door. Akira slams on the brakes. I jump out of the car and I start running.

I run. I run far away, far into the rain, until I run out of breath, until I stumble and fall into the mud.

[kosherbacon]

Well, I'm liking how it's going so far. I always approve of Akira content.

[i_do_shit]

Sorry for the delay. I work slowly, and am currently trying to set myself up with a routine.


Sweat falls down my face, mixing with rain. The pavement is burning, and my entire side hurts. I feel like I've been hit by a freight truck.

My heart beats like a machine gun.

I roll on my back, trying to catch my breath. The rain gets in my throat and my eyes. As my drowning lungs gasp for air, the taste of copper and chalk on my lips makes me want to throw up.

I attempt to focus on my breathing. I close my mouth, open it again, like a dying fish out of the water.

This isn't going to work.

I'm gonna die here, lying in the gutter. Eyes wide open.

I was always one for melodrama.


Akira pushes me to the side. I vomit, staining my shirt with bile. As I cough up some more, she helps me sit up against the curb.

"Can you stand up?"

"I think so," I answer between two drawn breaths. I try to back my claim, with little success. The world around me spins like a funfair carousel. I feel sick to my stomach, and even with Akira supporting me, I can barely stand on my feet.

The pain in my chest subsides. I put a foot forward, then the other. My arm slung around her shoulders, Akira slowly drags me to the car. Her body feels comfortably warm, contrasting with the coldness of the rain.

At this moment, I realize that she took off her jacket. And that I am soaking wet, and covered in my own puke.

"I... I'm sorry," I mutter. She smiles without much conviction, barely attempting to hide the worry in her face:

"It's alright."

I collapse into the passenger seat, Akira joining me shortly. Outside, arcs of lightning rip through the sky, imprinting the urban landscape with flashes of white. We both sit in silence, my debilitated breathing occasionally ripping through the quiet of the car.


"You're not taking me to a hospital."

"Who said I was?"

"I... just figured."

"Hisao, I don't know what's going on. You say you want to meet me, but you can't tell me anything. You beat up some guy to death, then the moment I mention Lilly's name, you run out of the car and off into the rain 'til you pass out on the sidewalk. What am I supposed to do? I'm just as scared shitless as you are."

"I don't know."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"So this is it? Should I just drive you home, and pretend you didn't nearly kill yourself just now?"

"I guess so."

My own tone surprises me. Through the slow process of recovering from my failed heart attack, I completely disconnected myself from the outside world; I haven't felt, or been so distant from Akira in a long time.

She, however, seems to disagree with my feelings.

"Get out."

What?

"You're not gonna let me help you. That's all right. But don't expect me to go around doing your bidding when I don't even know if I'm pulling you out of this shit or pushing you further in. So for tonight, you find your own ride home."

"You're just chock-full of surprises, aren't you? Five minutes ago you were helping me up, and now you're ready to tell me to fuck off."

Emotion rises up in my voice. Although I'd hate to admit it, I'm on the verge of another breakdown. Akira had never rejected me like this before. The painful throbbing in my head doesn't help me gather my thoughts.

"I..."

I can't find the proper words to explain this. The stench of sweat and vomit in the car is overbearing, and I'm almost tempted to go back in the rain, despite my weakened state.

"I just need to get my mind off this."

That's a start.

"When I called you, I wanted to talk to someone. Anyone. This has nothing to do with Lilly. This has nothing to do with you."

Only half a lie. I was indeed the source of the problem; the gaping hole Lilly blindly chose to turn her back to.

"That doesn't tell me what's going on now."

I hit another wall. Akira's out for answers. I laugh feebly.

"What's going on is you're gonna drive me home, I'll take a shower, get some rest, and then, and only then, I'll figure this out. I promise I'll tell you what happened."

With a sigh, Akira turns the key in the ignition. She remains silent, and during the entire trip back, I can't take my mind off the scornful look she gives me before slowly backing up the car.

_*
*_l*

I let the warm water run down my body, washing away the grime of the night and soothing my aching muscles. It takes me near an hour to emerge from my catatonic state, the gradually cooling stream chasing me out of the shower. After hastily putting on a bathrobe, I hurry back to the bedroom, shivering.

The air is cold and smells of lavender. Moonlight filters through the curtains, bathing the room in a soft hue of blue. I sit on the bed, Lilly sleeping next to me.

I think back to the night's events, my brain frantically trying to catch up with my legs and eyes. The truth as it currently is still remains in limbo. While not particularly comfortable, this state remains acceptable, reasonable, given the circumstances.

Lilly trembles in her sleep. I move closer to her, drawing the covers over us.

As I rest my head on her shoulder, taking in the scent of her hair, I find myself wondering how many mistakes I have made in the past months.

From the sudden change in her regular breathing, I can tell she's awake. I choose to ignore it, and it takes me a long time to find sleep.

[lblf]

Thumbs up buddy, keep it coming!

[i_do_shit]

Here's a segment and a half of the next sequence I've been working on, in all of its unrevised glory. (This one is much bigger.) Apologies for the lack of updates, but I've been working on autopilot for the last week and it's really hard to find time/concentration for writing. Still trying to pick up speed.

The cut here might feel a little more artificial, but I figured it was a good point at which to end it for now and share the results. The continuation to Akira/Hisao's hangout will be posted as soon as I finish writing it. (Yes, there's going to be more Lilly in the future. Also character development. I love that.)

I awake to warm linens and the figure comfortably nestled within my arms. Not wanting to break the moment, I-

"Lilly?"

Lilly's gone. I lay down in my bed, alone. Naked, resting against the suddenly cold sheets. A scar drawn across my chest.

Sunlight penetrates the pores of my skin aggressively. The white walls are painted with the bright colours of autumn, making my head spin. I sit up, forehead throbbing. My mouth is dry.

"I wish you would've stayed."

I incoherently drag myself up, grab a pair of boxers from the nearby drawer and put them on, one leg after the other. Finally, I stumble out of the room, resting heavily against the door frame.

I don't want to stay in the bedroom any more.


Outside, the relentless assault of the light is dulled by the drawn curtains. Flashes of brightness escape from their underside, scattered across the living room like long streaks gushing forth from a madman's paintbrush.

My eyes adjusting to the darkness again, I sit down on a leather couch. The hide brushes up uncomfortably against my skin. I feel cold, yet I sweat, and my bare legs stick to the tanned leather much too easily.

I get up, walk over to the kitchen, grab a bottle of scotch and a glass, and come back to the couch. Caruso is playing on the radio. The A/C hums softly.

I pour myself a glass of the whiskey; the golden liquid rises gently in the tumbler, like syrup.

Whiskey goes down my throat.

My head hurts. My lungs burn.

I am sitting naked in my living room.


Scotch is Lilly's drink. Surprisingly, she's not too fond of hard spirits, generally preferring wines such as champagne over them.

But she could never pass up on a good scotch.

Drinking her drink might prove to be a mistake. I don't care too much at the moment. Vapours of nostalgia rise to my head, joining those of alcohol.


She had scotch breath. When we drunkenly made love. I would kiss her. And it stank. Wonderfully.

Her fingers brushing up against my sides. Her touch, electrifying. Her scent, intoxicating. Her closed eyes, hastened breaths - she felt like home.

She would would laugh like no one else could; caress my face with hands like silk gloves.

Caring gently; killing me softly.

I bring the glass to my lips.

And she would dance for me. And she would sing for me, alone.

Never looking at me with her empty eyes.

I would kiss her. And I would kiss her again, and again. If only she were here.

Lilly, my lover. Lilly my companion, Lilly my confidant. Lilly my comfort, my anchor, my home. Lilly my tempest.

If only you were here.

But I made you exile.

_*
*_l*

The sound of keys fiddling against a lock pull me out of my stupor. Suddenly, the front door opens wide.

Akira walks in with the sun.

"Hello. Expecting someone? I see you're well dressed."

Her mocking tone contains no bitterness. It nevertheless doesn't make her appearance any less unsettling.

"This wouldn't have happened if you rang."

"But then I wouldn't have gotten the chance to use the extra set of keys. Besides, I really like your boxers."

She closes the door.

She's not mad, for a start. I can't decide whether a happy Akira is a welcome sight now, though.

"Did you...?"

"Drive Lilly? Yeah. I figured you wouldn't be able to, after what happened. Told her you stayed up late for work again."

Which wasn't so far from the truth. The work part aside, anyway.

"Oh, I also took the day off... and I see you have, too."

Letting herself fall over on the couch next to me, she grabs my drink and stares at it, intently.

"Nah... I really shouldn't be drinking. At least, not this early."

She lets off a devilish grin, and quickly jumps back to her feet.

"Anyway, you'd best put some clothes on. Since neither of us have anything to do, we're going for a drive."

"A drive? Where?"

She stops in the door frame.

"Does it matter? You're drinking scotch at ten in the morning. Sounds to me like you need to get out some."

Before I can open my mouth again to reply, she's out of the house.

_*
*_l*

Moving to Scotland, Akira had sold her Lancer. Back to Japan, her parents set her up with a four-door Buick. The sedan was by no means a parting gift; it merely served to remind Akira of her family's interest in the Japanese branch of the enterprise - an investment of sorts.

The Buick's excellent handling was well-fitted for the city - something I appreciated, although Akira still seemed at times to miss the raw power of the Lancer. Her previous car, however, would've proven much too flashy and out of place for the activities she partaked in. As her father put it, she'd needed "a vehicle fit for the job she was about to sign up for." And thus, he provided.

I would assume Akira still prefers the Buick to the soapbox car she chased me around the city with yesterday.


Most of the drive is spent in silence; I can't say whether Akira's afraid to bring anything up or simply has nothing to talk about for the moment, although the unwavering grin on her face throws out my suspicions of the former.

Maybe she's just waiting for me to speak up.

Left to my own ramblings, I attempt to engross myself in the sights of the various businesses which dot the city. Miso soup vendors prepare their stalls for the noon rush, and most merchants have already set up shop since the early morning. In stores, electronics blink and neons flash brightly, trying to draw in the steady flow of pedestrians which plague the usually quiet streets, announcing the arrival of the weekend.

Eventually, we move to a calmer part of the city. The traffic slowly clears up, and as I take in my surroundings, I notice an increase in the amount of shacks, abandoned apartments and warehouses, and other run-down buildings. We finally come to a stop in front of a small blue and white restaurant, of which the tacky Mediterranean architecture doesn't seem completely out of place in the commercial shantytown.

"Greek restaurant. You hungry?"

Akira looks at me. Taken aback, I answer in a rush;

"Uh... I don't know. I just never had Greek before."

My hesitation doesn't seem to make her enthusiasm falter.

"Come on, I'll grab something for you. You don't even have to get out of the car. Besides, this place has better take-out... their tableware isn't exactly the cleanest."

All of a sudden, she looks dumbfounded.

"You... don't know what they serve in Greek restaurants. Right."

"Not really, no."

"Well, their gyros are good. Kebab sandwich. You wanna try that?"

"Alright. Humor me."

She leaves the car without further ado.

The sun slowly courses towards its apex; kids outside play in the dirt and concrete, enjoying one of the last few warm days of autumn. Soon, storms like yesterday's will become a daily occurrence, the downpours eventually giving way to the thick coat of winter. Tourists having fled the cold climates like migrating birds, the city will plunge in a state of torpor once again.


--------


A tap on the shoulder wakes me up; Akira's rich crimson eyes peer at me, but the perplexed expression on her face is quick to wash off as she takes note of my awakening.

"I was afraid you passed out from the heat," she explains, handing me a bag of cheap, white paper. "Here's your gyro. I opened the windows, because wow, it was getting really hot here."

The dryness has returned to my mouth. I try to straighten up my back, pained by my unexpected nap, but quickly give up on chasing the cramps and numbness away. I stretch and, wiping the drool off my cheek, begin to open the bag Akira gave me.

The sizable pita sandwich smells strongly of spices and cooked meat. The doner itself gives off the characteristic musk of spit-roasted lamb, the caustic smell of which makes me sick to my stomach. After a few bites, I nevertheless deem the sandwich inoffensive enough to be fit for consumption, and set off to enjoy my meal, silently thanking Akira for keeping the car's windows down.

"How do you like it?" she asks, between two bites of a small, triangular pastry which is dripping with oil.

"It's okay. I'm not a huge fan of meat, but this is pretty good. You should've told me they had fried stuff."

She laughs, before taking another bite out of the flaky triangle.

"But that's the whole point! If I had told you, you never would've tried out the doner - and it's the best they have... in my opinion, anyway."

"I see you practice what you preach."

"Bah! If you go with special every day, it isn't special anymore. "

Despite her cheery mood, I see that I managed to make her pout. Not like she doesn't deserve it; Akira's been taking constant pokes at me ever since we started working together. The fraternity and casualness of our relationship made her more dominant side come out, although her aggressiveness is closer to friendly banter.

"So do you come to this place pretty often, then?"

"Not really. From time to time. Used to, before I left... it's hard to catch a break now, and this place is so far out."

"Yeah, it is hard to find time."

"Don't tell me about it. The city's so different when you're running on the clock. At least back when I was still in legal, I had time to do things like this. Now, my dad's probably gonna skin me for today."

"You know, I kinda enjoy working for your father."

Akira nearly chokes on her pastry.

"Are you kidding?"

I take a last bite out of my sandwich, and discard the crumpled paper onto the dashboard.

"Well - it might be the worst thing to happen to me in a while, but it keeps me busy. Focused."

"Yeah. I see watchya mean." Akira bites her lip, her brow drawing into a frown. "Things have really gone crazy."

At this point, I feel drawn closer to her than I ever have before. I can't tell if it's the sad, depressed look in her eyes or the fact that she rarely opens up to people like this, but something in Akira makes me feel deeply connected to her; as if I had just realized that we had been sharing the same blight for the past years.

"When I first came back," she continues, "I got to admit that I was pretty scared. I mean, when everything's been thrown off balance like that, you don't just get up and act like nothing happened. My dad offered me a golden opportunity; one that I couldn't pass - that either of us couldn't pass. I hated him for it, for a time. But now, everything blurs; the dream slowly becomes reality, and you sink back into normality. I don't think I'm as happy as I used to, but it's like... the average. Like I forgot I was happy."

"I know the feel."

Except I didn't. Unlike Akira, I couldn't take my eyes off my past. I wonder which fate is worse.

I wonder if she envies me. If she envies Lilly. Or me for having her, when she has no one.

If she knew, would things be different?

_*
*_l*

[Seacow]

A wonderful read! Been craving for Hisao to be ran into the ground because of Lilly for whatever reason. I can't decide whether to hope for the 'good' or 'bad'...

Would read again.

[Demonhornz]

I don't have a problem with anything much except...when did Hisao become adept at punching people out?