Hana Kimi Fan Fiction ❯ Years Away From What I Need ❯ Apart Again ( Chapter 2 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

DISC: I don't own Hana Kimi or the characters. They belong to Hisaya Nakajo. Please don't sue. I'm not profiting from this story, other than the benefit of the joy of writing it.

CHAPTER 2

Nakatsu spent most of his plane trip fiddling with an old, worn and repaired armband. His fingers traced the stitching over and over. But his mind wasn't on the details of how to darn a used wrist band. He was replaying over in his head a single story, and trying to figure something out.

X X X Y X X

After returning to his room, he'd found he had too much energy to just relax and go to bed. His mind was spinning with the implications of what had happened - how his simple dinner could become the single thing he wanted to latch his hopes for the future on. But that would just be silly, right? A chance meeting with an old friend only takes people away from their previous existence and makes the sun shine more brightly in movies, in books.

The torment of his dilemma was making him feel… anxious. The amount of energy he was building up was ridiculous.

As soon as he got back to his hotel room, he changed into a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt and headed down to the work-out room. It was empty - as one would expect at this hour of the evening - and he immediately headed toward the treadmill. Setting it with a slight incline, and setting the timer to go for half an hour, he jumped on and began jogging.

`God, she's so beautiful,' he thought. `Was she really interested in me?' He remembered the way she kissed him, the soft velvet of her lips, like the petals of a rose brushing against his, until he pulled her in more deeply. Then he had plundered her mouth, and she had reciprocated, right?

He forced himself further into the memory. Yes. She had definitely reciprocated. He moaned and realized he would not be able to complete this workout if he kept thinking along that line. He forced himself to think of sour milk and the one time he'd helped his dad with a house repair and hit his thumb with the hammer. That helped with his problem.

`Okay. So. I want her. I'm a complete hentai. This is even worse than when I was gay. Well, I wasn't REALLY gay...

`Mizuki.' He thought of his dear friend and laughed. `You had me fooled. Then again, maybe you didn't…' His smile grew. `What on earth would you say to me now? You'd probably tell me how romantic Kyoumi must be to have held onto that wristband for 14 years. And you'd probably scold me for having forgotten about her for so long. They called me Lolita-killer… And now…

`Man. Who'd have thought? Kagurazaka's little sister. Oh, god! If I were to marry her, he'd be my brother-in-law.' He groaned aloud at the thought.

In his head, he heard a voice that sounded like Sano. “Are you already thinking of marrying her? You'll never catch up to me, you know.” The voice laughed at him and continued, “But it sounds like you're serious about this. Just take it slow, and make sure - get to know each other. Read some of her stories. And make sure she knows YOU - not just the you from 14 years ago. You've got,” the voice changed to his own in his head, `a long way to go yet.'

XXX END SCENE XXX

After his workout, he went back to his room to take a bath and relax before going to bed. As the tub filled, he stripped and tossed his dirtied clothes into the laundry bag for the return trip home. On the way back into the bathroom, the story journal from Kyoumi caught his eye. In a flash, he snagged it. When the bath was ready for him, he settled into the tub, opened the book and, relaxing into the soothing heat, he began to read.

Rather than starting at the beginning and moving on, he flipped through the book quickly.

He stopped on a story entitled, “The Homecoming”

Suki silently strolled beside them, praying that they'd forget she was there. But she remained as unlucky as she'd ever been.

“Suki, you have to try on this dress. It's perfect for you!” Ani was holding out a bright aqua, frilled dress. The scooped neck would display more than she was comfortable with, and the length of the frock was fashionably short.

“Thanks, Ani, but I think that would look much better on you.” Her attempt to distract her sister with praise failed.

“Nonsense!” her mother exclaimed. “It's about time you started to pay attention to fashion. You have the perfect figure - your breasts are fuller than your sister's, and you have a perfect tiny waist. You need to show it off, not hide!”

Ani nodded with a half-smile, half-grimace. “And don't think it doesn't piss me off that my little sister is better endowed than me! So get in there and try the dress on.”

Accepting defeat, she took the dress and headed for the fitting room. Door closed, shoes kicked off, she pulled her sweater over her head and slid out of her jeans. She looked in the mirror at her reflection as she stood in her plain white underwear and bra.

Her hated “assets” had developed early - much as her sister's had. But while her sister enjoyed them, flaunted them, and used them to convince the boys in her class to treat her as if she was special, Suki found them to be a pain in the ass. How could you ever know whether someone cared about you for real when you had large breasts?

She looked up at her hated cupie-doll face - oval shaped with full lips. Her whole life people had been telling her how beautiful she was. She was sick of it. She had a brain. She was smart. She genuinely cared about people. Why didn't anyone ever think that was worthy of praise? Sticking her tongue out at her reflection, she grabbed the dress and slid it on.

It really did look good on her. It hugged her curves in all the right places. And it was age-appropriate. She looked like a bubbly 15 year old high-school girl. `Damn,' she thought. `Now Mom'll make me get it.'

She trudged out of the fitting room and her mom smiled and nodded. Ami grimaced fiercely and muttered, “That settles it. I'm never going to be able to bring a boyfriend home until you go away to college.” Then she smiled to take the sting out of the words.

Suki looked at her mother pleadingly. “You hate it, don't you?” she said. Suki looked down guiltily. Sighing, her mother continued, “Go take it off. We'll see if we can find something else. But if we don't find a dress that we all can agree on for you, you're getting it. And you'll wear it if I have to force you into it.”

They found nothing else that day, so her mom bought the dress. And the next day, Suki grudgingly put it on and trudged downstairs. There wasn't extra time. They had to go.

The airport terminal was packed. College students were coming home. Suddenly, she saw him and started jumping up and down and waving like a lunatic. “Ryuho! Over here!”

“Suki! Stand still. That is not ladylike behaviour!” her father scolded. She realized her breasts were jiggling almost out of the top, and her skirt had probably been flouncing higher than she'd have wanted. Flushing in embarassment, she stopped jumping and just continued waving her arm.

Her brother came toward the family - a college graduate at last, and accepted into a law firm, pending passing the bar examination. She was so proud of him she wanted to burst.

He bowed to his father, kissed his mother on the cheek and slugged Ami in the arm. Then he bent down and picked Suki up and began to spin her.

She laughed and hugged him back.

Then he whispered in her ear, “I hate that dress, kiddo.” And kissed her on the cheek.

“Me, too,” she replied and kissed him back.

The welcome home dinner was fabulous, and held at a 5-star restaurant. The whole household was celebrating the son's success. But Suki and Ryuho held political debates through most of it. Ryuho would state something and Suki would take the opposing point of view - just for the debate. Or Suki would state something and Ryuho would argue against her. The funny thing is, neither one of them really held to the opinions they were arguing. It was just fun to see the other person have to intelligently defend their statement.

Finally, their father said, “Enough with the debate! Can't we just enjoy a meal without you two fighting?”

Suki and Ryuho looked at each other, confused. Fighting? They weren't fighting. They were just having fun. They smiled at each other, and ate for a while in silence.

After dinner, after they'd driven home, Ryuho picked up his sister again, swinging her into a big bear hug. He set her down, and they sat on the porch, looking out at the garden. The irises were in bloom. He picked one and bonked her on the nose with it.

“I really missed you, kiddo.” She smiled back at him.

“I missed you, too, dummy.” He knuckled her on the head.

“Seriously, though, I hate that dress.”

“Mom picked it just for you.”

He humphed. “Figures. It makes you look like…” He cut himself off. She looked at him puzzled. When he didn't respond, she elbowed him in the stomach.

“Oof!” He turned to look at her and realized she wasn't going to let it go. “You look like you're ready for… some other guy to take you away.” He frowned and looked away. “And when you go off and get married, then who am I gonna have to debate?

“Besides. You're too smart to look that gorgeous.”

She smiled when she realized that she could pull this dress out when she needed to piss him off. “Right back atcha, dummy!” She was really glad he was home.

Nakatsu smiled and turned the page. These stories were obviously incredibly personal. He was touched that she trusted him with it. Looking down, he continued to read the next story, which she had titled The End of Childhood.

The stars shone down on me that night. I'd like to say that they smiled. But stars are in the depth of space - they only know how to be cold.

Still I can't deny that it was the stars in her eyes that drew me to her that night.

We'd been friends since I was a child. Best friends. We knew each other better than anyone. So I should have been able to anticipate it. That things would change. After all, we weren't children anymore.

In 4thgrade, her family moved away - her father's work. I was inconsolable. But she told me she'd be back. She swore it. She gave me her best doll as a gift when she left. “I'll give it back to you when I see you again,” I exclaimed. She laughed and said, “Then it wouldn't be a gift. No, Miki. I want you to keep it. It's yours for as long as you want it. It will remind you of me.”

“Oh! What can I give you to remind you of me?” I asked and she laughed again. “I will never need anything to remind me of you. You're in here,” she tapped her heart.

I took that doll with me everywhere after that. It made me feel like Su was with me. And I didn't feel so alone. Even though I was teased mercilessly, “If you love that doll so much, why don't you marry it?” the doll never left my side.

I entered 5thgrade. Then 6th, where I moved to middle school. And still, the doll went wherever I did. My parents begged me to leave it home. “You're growing up,” they said. “It's time to move beyond childish things.” But I needed her with me. And the doll was all I had. And I was so desperately afraid that she wouldn't keep her word - that she'd never come back.

By 7thgrade, I kept the doll in my backpack. The teasing at school had just gotten too much. When I think back on it, it was probably pretty silly of me to feel like that was a betrayal to her. For some reason it felt like I was ashamed of Su. But I never left the doll home. It always went with me.

In 9thgrade, she came back. Her dad's job moved back to town, and they followed it. Once Su came back, the doll probably should have stayed on my shelf. But I'd gotten used to it being in my bag.

I guess she heard the rumors at school about me - about the doll. She heard about the teasing. One night, after we'd stayed late for a swim meet, she asked me to go for a walk with her. I grabbed my bag and she took me down a narrow path to a park. By the time we got there, it was dark.

The stars were shining down on me - on us.

We sat in the swings and idly went to and fro. Then she stood and walked in front of me to my book bag. I said nothing as she reached in and pulled out the old doll.

“You kept it all this time, Miki?” I nodded. I felt embarrassed for some reason. “I heard you wouldn't go anywhere without that doll.” I nodded again. “Why?”

“I missed you,” I replied.

“I missed you, too - and I didn't have a doll,” she said. Still holding the doll, she walked back to the swing and sat in it again. “Why do you still have it with you, Miki?”

I looked down at the ground. I couldn't really say. I didn't know myself.

She stood again and walked in front of me. I stopped my swing so that I didn't hit her. “Please look at me,” she said. I looked up. The stars were shining in her eyes. “Don't you think it's time you gave up childish things?”

I was hurt by this. Was she… Didn't she want to be friends with me anymore?

Then I noticed. The stars. Calling me. “I'm here now,” she said. “Do you really need this doll anymore?” The stars in her eyes. I shook my head no, and she threw the doll over her shoulder and away. With that same hand, she allowed her soft fingers to brush along the cut of my chin.

That's when it all changed.

I kissed her deeply. And she kissed me back. She was right. The time for childish things was done.

`Damn!' his thoughts were warring within him. `She's really good. Her stories are so… deep.' He looked down at his feet and saw they were getting pruny. Carefully setting the book where it wouldn't get wet, he sat up more fully and scrubbed himself clean, rinsed off, then allowed the tub to drain as he toweled off.

It would have been good to read more, but he wanted to savor her stories. Immerse himself in them. Really learn who she was - and make sure that she was what he really wanted. He climbed into bed, and fell asleep quickly.

XX XY XX XY

His fingers kept fiddling over the stitches. `Su. Is that supposed to be short for Nakatsu? Or am I reading too much into this - maybe it wasn't about me at all…'

He looked at the stitching. `But the whole giving something to remember her by… And that's actually different from us, after all, I told her to just hold onto this for me. Su in the story told Miki that it was a gift. Does that mean she really wanted to keep this?' He shook the band gently.

`But then again, at the end, when they were together, it got thrown away. Was… Did she write this in hopes of us meeting - or because she thought we never would meet again.

`And Miki - that could be a boy or a girl. The only clue was that Miki got teased for having a doll, so that would imply a boy, but in 4th grade it could be that they all thought a girl should be too old for a doll. But she wrote that the teasing about childish stuff doesn't come `til middle school. So does that mean Miki was a boy? Or were the girls just mean? Girls ARE awfully mean to each other.'

He turned the wristband in his hand like a catholic using prayer beads.

`Kyoumi, what were you thinking? Does this mean you like girls? Nah, I shouldn't worry about that. I mean, when I was her age, I thought *I* was gay because of…

“OH! Kagurazaka! He probably told her about me being gay - but he met Mizuki as Sano's wife at the Olympics, so he knows she's a girl now. But if he told Kyoumi that I was gay…

`Do girls kiss gay men like she kissed me?

`Am I being horribly self-centered thinking she wrote this about me? I mean, it could be based on something else. Or it could be completely fictional.

`But she said she would wait another 14 years for me. Has she really been waiting for me 14 years? Does she have any interest in me at all? Does that make her a stalker?

`But if she's a stalker, then I'm a pervert! I mean, she is so much younger than me. And, GOD, she's beautiful - but I bet she doesn't want to hear that. She'd rather hear she's smart. She IS smart. Otherwise I wouldn't be so worked up by her stories… I wonder what she'd doing right now… What she's thinking…'

His thoughts were worried, but for some reason, he was smiling. The stewardesses were big fans and swooned, but he was too intent on his thoughts to even notice.

XX XY XX XY XX XX XX XY

She went to bed feeling naked and vulnerable. No wristband under her pillow. No notebook on her nightstand. And the man she'd been fantasizing about - had she really been fantasizing? Yes. She had to be honest. She'd fantasized. He had her notebook now. Her stories. All her stories about her family, her life, her perspective on things. All her random and stray thoughts. All the funny stories she had written just for fun. They were all in his hands now. He held her heart now.

He'd kissed her. Oh, god, how he'd kissed her. Just thinking about it made her insides turn to goo. She'd dreamed about him for so long - how nice he had been to her. She knew that her fantasies about him were just that - fantasies. She'd only been 3 when he met her. If he had ever thought about her as other than just a cute kid, he'd have to be a sicko.

She'd taken a class on basic psychology. She'd read of classic cases like hers - where a young woman had met someone early in life for a short period of time who had made a huge impact for one reason or another. In most of these cases, the person was some sort of authority figure - like a teacher, a preacher, or the father or brother of a friend. These cases would show that the young women had developed an unnatural affection for the person. The analysis was that the women felt lonely, and they had remembered the old kindness and blown it up into unrealistic proportions - trading reality for a fantasy world, where the person who had shown her the unwarranted kindness became the epitome of the perfect man, the sum of all that was missing from their lives.

She'd studied these cases furiously as a 1st year. Was that really her? Was she living in a fantasy world? Eventually, she had convinced herself that it couldn't be. Or at least not entirely. Because she harbored no belief whatsoever that he felt the same way about her. And she'd had a very realistic view of what would have been likely to happen when they met up again:

She'd come up to him and present him with the band. He'd say, “Who are you?” She'd remind him of the time they'd spent together. He'd say, “Oh. Well, gee. Thanks for keeping it for me.” And then he'd leave. And once she'd seen first-hand that there could never be anything between them, she'd meet some other guy, who wouldn't break her heart, but who would never mean as much to her as HE had all those years and she'd live a placid and normal life.

And that was fully what she had expected to happen when she went over to his table. That's really why she'd been so nervous: because she was, in a very real sense, going over there to say goodbye to childish things. Of course, there was still a part of her that believed in fairy tales, that wished he'd see her and instantly feel a connection, fall in love. Yet she knew that was just a pipe dream. She walked to his table ready to say goodbye to that pipe dream for good.

But that wasn't what had happened.

And now, she had no idea what to expect from life anymore. She really had no idea at all. He'd picked her up and spun her. As soon as he said her name. He remembered her. He'd been happy to see her. That wasn't what was supposed to happen. He'd held her hand, stroked it. Been interested in her likes and dislikes. Holding hands, he'd walked her back to her dorm. Asked to read some of her stories. And then, when she went to kiss him goodbye - heaven help her, he'd kissed her. He'd said he would come for her.

None of that was supposed to happen. What should she think about all of this?

On her top bunk, she stifled a moan. Sakura slept lightly and had really good hearing. The ache inside her begged to be relieved. And it wouldn't have been the first time she'd pleasured herself while thinking of Nakatsu. But now, there was a level of reality to it that unnerved her, and she knew she wouldn't be able to do that again - not until she knew if anything real was happening or not. Otherwise, she might lose the line between fantasy and reality. And reality made the ache so much deeper than any she'd ever felt. Rolling onto her side and curling into a ball, she hugged her pillow. No release tonight from this sweet torment. None until he called her again.

And no notebook to write in so that she could distract herself until she fell asleep. She laid on her back again and started to count backwards from 10,000 by threes. That should occupy her mind and exhaust her into sleep.

XX XY XX XY XX XY

“Girl, you look like you haven't slept in a week!” Sakura exclaimed as Kyoumi made her way out of the bathroom to get ready for breakfast. Kyoumi just shrugged. “Had a tough time falling asleep, huh? Well, I don't blame you.”

As she finished with getting dressed and putting barrettes in her hair, she grabbed her book bag, and reached up to her nightstand. Settling to the floor empty handed, her face spoke volumes.

“Old habits die hard, eh?” Sakura teased.

Kyoumi gave a half-grin and shrugged, “Yeah. It's not like I forgot I gave it to him, it's just…”

“Old habits die hard,” they chorused.

“Well, let's get some coffee in you so you don't fall asleep in Auntie Haruka's class.”

“If she hears you call her that, you'll get detention, you know. She's only 34.”

“Well, if she wasn't such a boring fuddy-duddy as a teacher, I wouldn't call her that.”

The two made their way to breakfast. With no food in her system, nor caffeine pumping through her veins, she felt a bit distracted. Almost giddy. Still, she had to be ready to handle the incessant questions from the classmates that Sakura had shut the door on the night before.

“Oh, no! You two are NOT going to go off to a private table and hide from the rest of us!” Naoko yelled at them as they sat down at a corner table with their trays. “Get your butts over here and SPILL!”

“Yeah,” Hisa agreed, skootching over to one side to make some additional room. “You can't keep this secret from us. We've been fans of Nakatsu Shuichi forEVER, and you don't even WATCH football!” The other girls at the table nodded fervently.

Sakura turned to look at Kyoumi, who was grimacing. The girl sighed, shrugged, and Sakura followed her to the table. Kyoumi sat to the right of Hisa, who was across from Naoko, in the space Hisa had made for her. There wasn't enough room for Sakura left between Kyoumi and Nyoko, Naoko's twin sister, so she pushed in between Naoko and Midori on the other side of the table. That way, she could be directly across from Kyoumi and provide support.

“Well?!?” Naoko demanded. The others were focused intently on Kyoumi, who took a deep breath, took a bite of fish then a sip of black coffee, and looked around the table at them all.

“What is it that you want to know?” she asked.

“You kissed Nakatsu!” Hisa exclaimed. She was almost shaking. “How?! Why?!” If it hadn't been such a tough night, Kyoumi might have had a hard time not laughing as the girl sputtered out her questions.

Calmly, she took another bite, another sip, and took turns catching each of their eyes, “So you want me to kiss and tell, huh? Well, I can tell you this. I've known Nakatsu Shuichi since I was three years old. The last time we met, he gave me his armband as a promise that we'd meet again someday, and I promised I'd return it when that day came.

“Yesterday was that day. I was very happy to see him again.”

Naoko and Hisa scowled, but Nyoko smiled subtly. “Apparently,” she said softly. Kyoumi blushed just a little, but other than that did not register that she'd heard the twin's comment. Instead, she busied herself eating.

“So,” Midori's quiet voice quickly had everyone's attention, “are you two a couple?”

“A couple of what?” Sakura quipped, but Naoko snapped back.

“You know. A couple. Dating. Don't be anymore of a pain in the ass than you have to be Sakura!”

“Well?” Hisa and Nyoko chimed in together - Hisa voice exasperated and Nyoko's genuinely curious.

Kyoumi finished her breakfast, swallowed her last bite and looked up at Sakura. “That remains to be seen,” she said.

Rolling her eyes, Naoko humphed. But Midori quietly asked another question, “But you love him, don't you? That's why you gave him your stories.”

The other girls turned in shock to Midori, so they didn't see Kyoumi nod her head just once in affirmation. They just saw Midori smile quietly, knowingly. When they turned back to Kyoumi, she was drinking the remainder of her coffee and gathering up her tray so that she could go to her first class.

She only had two classes that day, and they went by quickly. After that, Sakura dragged her off for lunch. They ate at a little beef bowl place.

After they'd placed their orders and sat at the counter next to each other, Sakura placed a little wrapped package on the table - about 5” x 6” x 1” in size. “I got you a pre-sent!” she sing-songed.

“Aw, Sakura! You got me a present? What for?”

“Just open it,” she rolled her eyes and tossed her head.

Tearing off the paper, she saw a little leather journal. “Oh!” She flipped through the book and saw an inscription in the front: “To my dear friend Kyoumi, For the next chapter of your story. Love, Sakura”

“I know you're probably climbing the walls right now. For as long as I've known you, whenever you've had something on your mind, or something you were worried about, your only real relief was writing. And it's only been what?” she looked at her watch, “Seventeen hours since you've been without your notebook? And I'd say, 17 hours of the most stressful, worrisome hours of your life. So write something. Maybe someday, you'll publish, and *I'll* actually get a chance to read it!”

Setting the book down on the table gently, Kyoumi looked up at Sakura with tears streaming down her cheeks.

“What? Should I have gotten you a pen, too? I didn't think you'd given that away, too-” She was interrupted as her voluptuous roommate almost tackled her in a bear hug, continuing to cry on her shoulder.

Sakura patted the girl's back and felt her own tears springing up. In the three years they'd been roommates, Kyoumi had never, EVER, expressed this kind of emotion to her. She'd understood. Her roommate was just not that kind of girl. She didn't wear her heart on her sleeve - instead, she hid it in her stories. But she never shared those stories with anyone, so you had to really pay attention to see through to what she was feeling. They talked a lot, and Kyoumi was very sweet and caring, but not prone to any kind of emotional outbursts ever - except when she was mad at herself. But she usually was quietly supportive of others - in a way that no one else was.

After about 30 seconds of both girls crying, and the boy behind the counter staring, soaking it up for wet dreams that would last him for the next 5 years, Kyoumi pulled back apologetically. “Thank you for the gift, Sakura,” she said quietly, her head bowed.

One hand wiping the tears from her eyes, she lightly punched her roommate in the shoulder. “Yeah. I love you, too,” she said. Kyoumi looked up to a grinning, red-eyed Sakura and found herself smiling in return. At that moment, the counter boy placed the beef bowls in front of the girls, smirking like a moron, but the girls didn't notice as they dug in.

The rest of the day went by in a whirlwind of writing. Sakura brought dinner back to their room so that Kyoumi could continue writing uninterrupted. She smiled as she cleared away the dishes. `God, I hope someday she lets me read SOMEthing!'

XX XY XX XY XX XY