Apple of my Eye, part 4

Oct 29, 2008 03:40

Title: Apple of my Eye (4/6)
Author: stupeur
Editor: cranperryjuice
Rating: R
Pairing: Tatsurou (MUCC) x Shiina Ringo
Summary: Despite his fame as a visual artist in 1960s Tokyo, Tatsurou has a strong dislike of circles and events, but caves in to his friend Miya and follows him to a private party in a jazz lounge. There he meets the beautiful and elusive Ringo, a woman unlike any other.
Notes: ... Wow, I can't believe two months have passed since I last updated. It sure didn't feel like it. Anyway, here's part four!
Previous chapters: One Two Three

After that one afternoon in his atelier, Tatsurou never attended one of Ringo's concerts again. It was as if some sort of silent agreement had been struck between the two of them when she first taught him the directions to her appartment. Somehow, he took it to mean that his presence to her performances was not welcomed anymore, and almost like a confirmation of what he had already suspected, she never invited him again or commented on his absence.

Only when the night would keep his identity a secret would he set out to meet her. Ringo would never let him know when she wanted to see him- if she ever actually felt the desire to- and Tatsurou found himself knocking at her door much more often than he would have liked to admit. Although he stuck out like a sore thumb among the eclectic yet tasteful marriage of European furniture, shoji screens and Indian incense, he was able to recognize Ringo in every nook of her apartment, and that was enough to make him feel more at home than he ever had. For this very reason, what he loved the most there was his painting hanging above the flower arrangement of the alcove, like a piece of himself that belonged nowhere but in her world. It was not only his own vision of Tokyo, it was their Tokyo- cold, polluted, rotten from the inside out, still humiliated by war and Allied occupation- but when he was with her, the city was as harmless as winter behind a warm window.

However, even though Tatsurou was able to find peace of mind in Ringo's apartment, he never knew what he was in for when he knocked at her door. Every night was a surprise. He had found her at her piano, too absorbed in her music to really pay him any mind; the next time, she had clutched his collar and pulled him into an aggressive kiss, her wet hair sticking to the sides of her face; and once when she was in a bad mood, he had gotten thrown out after several unsuccessful attempts to make her laugh. But despite it all, he always came back. The sanctuary of her apartment had seen their quarrels and their lovemaking, Ringo dancing en pointe and posing for him, Tatsurou massaging her tired feet and watching her as she dressed, commenting on her attire with a smirk. He was addicted to the burning sensation of her fingernails digging in his back, her frown when he would poke fun at the asymmetry of her shoulders, her toes squirming when he would run his paintbrush down her sides - once with actual ink, her naked skin his canvas. From the soft curve of her breasts to the scar on her back, he knew her body so well that he could have made a portrait of her with his eyes closed - and yet she remained a complete mystery.

It was Miya who somehow made him realize just how little he knew her. "Who does she think she is, the fucking Queen of England?" Miya had said, and for the first time, Tatsurou had seen him pour himself a shot of the bourbon he usually reserved for guests. He had looked more tired than he had ever seen him. "It's always 'London this' and 'London that'. Wonder how long it'll take before she just fucks off back there once and for all." Miya had grimaced after downing the whiskey and had let himself fall back on the tatami, throwing an arm over his eyes. Mindful of revealing his great partiality about the matter, Tatsurou had decided to just keep his mouth shut and had simply watched him lie there.

Somehow, their exchange had triggered within him the need to see Ringo right then and there, if only to make sure that she had not vanished without a word. He did not stay much longer at Miya's apartment and headed straight to hers, but even with his arms locked around her in the tightest of embraces, he could not rid himself of the awful feeling of dread that lingered in the pit of his stomach.

The feeling had barely subsided when several days later, he woke up in the middle of the night only to find himself lying alone on Ringo's futon. The imprint of her body was still visible next to him, but it was long cold. His heart made such a leap in his chest that he felt completely awake and immediately jumped to his feet to look for her. As he stepped into the living room, he saw her silhouette outlined by the feeble light of a single paper lantern. She was kneeling on the Karabakh rug in front of the low table, not even reacting to his presence. The paper box of the honey castella they had shared earlier in the evening was still on the table, next to a bottle of red wine and a pill container. Only after walking closer to her did Tatsurou notice the tears gleaming on her face and the wine staining her lips. He kneeled down behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders to pull her against his chest, feeling a soft tremor shaking her upper body.

"I can't sleep," Ringo murmured between two quiet sobs, leaning against him.

Tatsurou tightened his embrace and leaned forward to kiss her cheek, tasting salt on his tongue when he licked his lips clean. He then nuzzled her neck gently, breathing in the fragrance of her skin, but when she did not so much as respond to the affection, he suddenly felt his eyes burn, tears threatening to fall. For the first time, he was truly aware of the distance she had always kept between him and herself - and it hurt terribly.

artist: shiina ringo, title: apple of my eye, artist: mucc

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