[fic] MH: Crossroads Schemata 1/3
Title: Crossroads Schemata
Fandom: Mai HiME
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~19,500
Spoilers: Entire series
Tie-ins: Shizuru-Natsuki drabble cycle, "Orbiting"; sequel to "A Tangential Affair"
Featured Character: Fujino Shizuru
Disclaimer: SUNRISE's. Not mine.
Notes: This is a direct sequel/extension of "A Tangential Affair." Heartfelt thank yous to sataniscooler for her excellent eye and ear in beta reading, ifuritka for her constant enthusiastic support and honest opinions, and nemesisjk8 for spurring, encouraging, and critiquing me every step of the way.
Crossroads Schemata
- Part One -
In the chance moment that Fujino Shizuru met Yamane Aki’s eyes, she realized that she had never intended that this meeting take place. She was conscious, as the older woman stopped and turned to fully face her, of her arm looped through Natsuki’s, the smile on her face, and how her head bent close to her friend’s as she leaned on the other girl.
The smile faded somewhat.
“Fujino-san.” Yamane smiled with courteous pleasure. “Good evening.”
“Yamane-san,” Shizuru replied, watching Natsuki out of the corner of her eye. The younger woman looked curious but not all that interested. Shizuru knew, though, by the tilt of her ear, that she was listening. “This is a surprise.”
“Enjoying the night?” Yamane asked genially, now glancing at Natsuki and then back to Shizuru.
“Yes, we were just heading to the theater to catch a movie.” She straightened up, loosening her hold on Natsuki’s arm. With her free hand, she indicated her silent companion. “Yamane-san, this is my friend Kuga Natsuki. Natsuki, this is Yamane Aki-san.”
They exchanged pleasantries, Natsuki’s slight dip from the waist a little awkward because Shizuru hadn’t untangled herself, and then lapsed into silence.
“Are you out enjoying the night, Yamane-san?” Shizuru asked under the weight of their combined gazes.
“I will be, hopefully.” Yamane glanced at her watch. “I should probably let you get to your movie.” She turned to Natsuki. “It was nice meeting you, Kuga-san.”
“You, too,” Natsuki said, sounding a little uncertain at the formality of Yamane’s tone. But Yamane smiled and nodded, which offset the awkwardness of her words and bearing. Regardless, when Yamane said goodbye to her, Shizuru heard her own reply come out stilted. It was only when Yamane rushed off to catch the crossing light with a final apologetic bob of her head that Shizuru realized she had been holding her breath.
They stood there for a moment afterwards, Natsuki watching her. Then Natsuki took out her cell phone and noted the time. Not looking at her, the dark-haired girl said, “We still have some time before the movie. Do you want to get something to drink?”
“Yes,” Shizuru said with such emotion that she felt embarrassed by the rush of gratitude that gripped her. Natsuki avoided her eyes and, Shizuru thought for her sake, pretended not to notice.
*
Half an hour into the movie, Shizuru was lost. She had no idea who most of the characters blathering on the screen were or what flimsy plot was holding the story together. She kept glancing at Natsuki, who never seemed to look away from the film. Earlier, as Shizuru had sipped at a too-sweet iced tea, Natsuki hadn’t asked any questions about Yamane. But Shizuru couldn’t stop thinking on the matter-about what she would say, about what she should say, about all the things that had been happening to her that she hadn’t, wouldn’t, share with Natsuki, and about why that meeting had felt, for one moment, like the ground had shifted beneath her feet, leaving her off-balance and disoriented.
Later, as they were walking back arm-in-arm, Natsuki asked her one question: “Did you like the movie?”
Shizuru shrugged, brushing Natsuki’s shoulder in the process. “I thought it would be better.”
*
“Did you enjoy the movie?”
That was the extent of Yamane’s curiosity about their unexpected meeting, a topic that Shizuru had casually incorporated into her greeting as she settled into the booth. Some time had passed since the incident, but Yamane’s question left Shizuru momentarily stunned, then angry, then angry that she felt angry. After that, Shizuru found herself staring out the window for most of the evening, first at the darkening sky and then at her own increasingly distinct reflection in the glass.
She felt like a child.
Yamane was as quiet as she was. The older woman’s reflection showed her staring down at her coffee cup, occasionally reaching out and giving it a stir. She rarely raised her head to look at Shizuru directly.
“How was work?” Shizuru asked at last, the question sounding harsh. Yamane’s head jerked up in surprise.
“It was . . . okay, I guess.” Hearing her hesitation, Shizuru realized that this was the first time she had ever asked Yamane about how her workday had gone-or really, about her work at all. “They asked me to redesign a few things.” She pressed her lips together and then asked, “Fujino-san, is something wrong?”
Shizuru took a deep breath and sighed, feeling the anger seep out of her. When she spoke again, she turned to fully face Yamane. “No. Nothing’s wrong.”
Yamane nodded slowly.
Shizuru raised her tea to her lips-cold now-and took a generous sip. Setting the cup down, she held it gingerly between her fingers and leaned forward over the table. “Have you ever felt like things should be wrong, but they’re not?”
Yamane crossed her arms and cocked her head slightly, brow furrowed. “Maybe? I don’t think I understand your question.”
“Like . . . as if you’re the only person who thinks there’s something wrong while everyone around you doesn’t-doesn’t seem to care or-or even notice.”
“Oh.” Yamane freed a hand and fiddled with a napkin on the table. “Yes.”
Curiosity bit at Shizuru but Yamane looked uncomfortable. She spun her tea cup between her fingers. “I guess I just feel that way today.”
“Do you . . . want to talk about it?”
Shizuru paused, then said, “No.”
As she said it, unexpected sadness throbbed in her heart. She looked at Yamane, who was peering at her closely but gently, and was surprised at how her own silence filled the space between them. She waited but it was her farewells that broke it.
*
It was turning into a bad term. Though Shizuru’s grades weren’t suffering, everything else seemed to be. She and Natsuki were spending less time with each other, unsurprising since Natsuki was in her last semester at Fuuka Academy. The sudden appearance of study guides and study aids among the perpetual mess of her apartment went uncommented on by either of them. Natsuki seemed hesitant to talk about her plans following her graduation and Shizuru was even more hesitant to ask. The one time she had raised the subject, curled into the corner of Natsuki’s couch as they chatted after a movie, Natsuki had avoided her eye and said, “I’m not sure yet.”
So Shizuru refrained from bringing up the topic. It became a moot point, however, as the influx of tests, papers, and assignments began in earnest for both of them. They sent each other daily messages to update and encourage each other, but over time these took on a more conventional quality of habit.
They were both busy.
She was seeing Yamane less as well. The older woman looked more tired these days. One night when Yamane was drifting off into moments of weary inattention Shizuru asked after her health and Yamane instead explained that her project was picking up. After months of delays and budget concerns, it looked like the project was finally getting under way, but the demands of their clients had changed. She and Yamane simply began to see each other less and went for long stretches of time without any communication, having never been in the practice of texting each other outside of coordinating their schedules and suggesting plans to meet.
Shizuru received fewer calls these days.
In the meanwhile Shizuru busied herself with being busy. One day Risa sent her a text message that said, “I haven’t seen you in forever. Where have you been?” to which Shizuru replied that Risa had forgotten about her with her new boyfriend. Risa wrote back: “That’s shit. You never call me anymore.” Then, just minutes later: “Did we have a fight I didn’t know about?”
They hadn’t, of course, and Shizuru wasn’t sure she would have noticed anyway. She replied with a simple, “I’ve been busy,” which prompted Risa to show up at her door that very night.
“Shizuru-chan!” Risa sang as she knocked incessantly.
Shizuru opened the door just to stop the noise. “Ara. Risa-san. Tell me why I should let you in after all that racket.”
Risa raised a paper bag. “Because I brought alcohol?”
Shizuru made to close the door and Risa quickly thrust a foot in the way. “Because I skipped a night to be with my boyfriend to come check up on you?”
Shizuru frowned to fight her smile. “I’m fine,” she said as she opened the door wider.
“No one has seen you outside of class lately,” Risa said as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “I know, I asked. I was ready to go hunt down Kuga-chan.”
“Natsuki’s even busier than I am,” Shizuru admonished her. “Don’t bother her.”
Risa rooted around for glasses. “So I take it you haven’t been spending your time with her either?”
Shizuru maneuvered Risa out of her way and produced two glasses. “I told you, I’ve been busy.”
Risa looked skeptical. “No busier than the rest of us.” From the paper bag she pulled out a bottle of cheap red wine and looked at it in consternation. “Do you have a bottle opener? Oh, and you have to come to my show. Opening night is two weeks away.”
Shizuru handed Risa the bottle opener and gestured toward the chairs. “I think I’m doing a presentation that week.”
“You don’t have to come to opening night,” Risa said but her tone made it clear that she would appreciate it if Shizuru did. “You just have to come.”
“Alright,” Shizuru relented as she sank into a chair.
“You can bring Kuga-chan.” The cork came out with a sucking pop and Risa poured them out generous portions. Shizuru let Risa try the wine first, amused at the pinched look of mild disgust Risa gave it. Taking that as a sign of the wine’s quality, Shizuru swirled the liquid under the pretense of letting it breathe.
“I’m not sure Natsuki is a big theater person,” Shizuru said, tucking her hair back. “And she’ll probably be worrying about her upcoming exams around then.”
“Fine, fine. I get it.” Risa tapped her glass against Shizuru’s. “So you’ll have to give me a better excuse than just classes to explain why you’ve been missing.”
Shizuru crossed her legs at the knees and leaned back in her chair. “What do you want to hear?”
“How about that you’re having a torrid love affair?” Risa suggested.
“I’ve been having a torrid love affair,” Shizuru echoed, punctuating her words with a slow smile.
Risa peered narrow-eyed at her over the rim of her glass. “You know, it’s hard to tell when you’re kidding.”
Shizuru laughed. Risa didn’t. She was giving Shizuru a slanted look. “There has been something different about you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s different about me?”
“Besides the whole avoiding people thing?”
“I’m not avoiding people,” Shizuru said gently.
“You were never this . . . much of a hermit before,” Risa pointed out.
“Maybe that’s how I really am,” Shizuru said with a shrug. Risa looked incredulous. “Maybe I like being alone.”
They stared at each other for a bit. Risa’s expression grew serious and her eyes hard. Shizuru had never seen her friend look like that. The intensity of Risa’s gaze tried to penetrate something in Shizuru’s, but Shizuru felt unafraid, opaque.
When the silence had stretched too long, Shizuru quietly said, “I’ll come to your show.” Risa stiffened and then set her cup down.
“Alright. It opens Wednesday. At seven. I’ll leave the rest of the wine here for you.”
They stood up together and Shizuru showed her to the door. Out in the hall, Risa looked like she was going to say something else but then her shoulders drooped as if she had released a deep breath. “Good night, Shizuru. I hope things get less busy for you.”
“Thank you for stopping by.” Sincerity underlined Shizuru’s words, and maybe a little bit of an apology.
“Yeah. Any time. Call me if you want to meet up and do something, yeah?”
Shizuru leaned against the doorframe. “I will. Good night.”
When she closed the door, it was very quiet in her dorm.
*
Shizuru understood what Risa had been trying to tell her but she pretended not to for a few more days. There was something to be said for not wanting to see anyone, a quiet in her solitude that could be sometimes frightening, sometimes calming, sometimes one right after the other.
The day Shizuru was done pretending, she set aside her assigned reading and sat with her cell phone. She held it in her hands and stared into it, as if somewhere within the shallow depths of its display there might be a hint as to her next step.
She opened her phonebook and tapped aimlessly through her contacts. The cursor cycled back to the beginning several times before she let it stop on a number she had not called since-she couldn’t remember when.
It rang twice before the familiar voice said, “Hello?”
“Hello, Mother,” Shizuru said warmly.
“Ara, Shizuru! Is something wrong? Do you need something?”
Shizuru smiled feebly, exasperated and saddened by her mother’s greeting. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just thought I’d call you.”
“Oh,” her mother said, unruffled. “Well, how are you doing? How are your studies?”
“I’m fine,” Shizuru assured her, “and my studies are going well.”
They chatted at length. Shizuru recounted the mundane details of her living conditions and her mother informed her about her father’s health and the long hours he spent working, the affairs of her aunts and uncles, and the bald facts of the juiciest gossip surrounding her cousins’ activities. Her mother spoke in a frank manner that bordered, at times, on being overly forward, but Shizuru had grown up watching (and learning from) her. People remarked on their differences-her mother’s somberness; her playfulness-but Shizuru knew where she had gotten her instinct for people and whose example she had grown up emulating.
When her mother’s torrent of news turned into a trickle, Shizuru excused herself.
“Your father will be home soon,” her mother told her. “If you wait, you can talk to him.”
“No, that’s fine. I have a few things I have to do,” Shizuru said. “Tell him I called and that I said hello.”
“I will. Take care of yourself, dear.”
“I will, Mother. You too.” She paused and then added, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” her mother replied without missing a beat.
“Bye,” Shizuru said hurriedly, barely waiting for her mother’s response before flipping her phone closed. For the next few minutes she sat motionless and watched the day get progressively darker outside her window. Then she reopened her phone and called Natsuki.
Natsuki answered quickly. She sounded tired but she asked Shizuru how she was doing and told Shizuru that she was beginning to regret the “be a normal high school student” thing.
“I don’t know what’s worse: the First District or all these exams.”
Shizuru smiled. “You did fine in all your exams last year and you’ve been getting good grades this year. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
Natsuki grumbled something indistinct.
Shizuru closed her eyes and massaged her temple with one hand. In a gentle, soft voice she said, “You still have until next year to study before you take the entrance exams.”
She heard Natsuki exhale into her phone. “Yeah. I didn’t . . . feel ready to take it this year. But I feel like I should be studying.” Natsuki paused and then said quietly, “I don’t even know if I want to go to college.”
“You have time”-and the money, Shizuru mentally added-“to figure that out, too. You don’t have to rush into anything. I think we-I think you’ve earned that.” She pushed her hair back and stared at a spot on the tabletop. “Have you ever thought about pursuing photography?”
“Huh?”
“You’ve been taking a lot of pictures lately.”
“Yeah, but . . . that’s just for fun.”
“I think you should think about it-if you really like it, I mean,” Shizuru said and felt an unfamiliar warmth spreading through her, a sudden lightness and fondness that stretched her lips into a smile. “I think you could be a wonderful photographer.”
Natsuki was quiet, though Shizuru sensed she might have been fighting the urge to toss out something blasé like “Whatever.”
“Maybe,” Natsuki said, without much conviction.
The conversation turned to lighter topics after that. As they said their goodbyes, Shizuru said, “Natsuki, would you like to go to a show? Risa is in a play that’s opening next week.”
Natsuki hesitated just long enough to hint that the invitation didn’t thrill her, but she answered, “I might be busy. Ask me again closer to when it opens?”
Shizuru agreed and when she hung up she was smiling. She dashed off a message to Risa asking her if she had saved her tickets for opening night and then juggled her phone in one hand. There was one last call she wanted to make.
“Hello?”
“Yamane-san, are you busy?”
“Hello, Fujino-san,” Yamane replied, unfailingly courteous. “No, I’m not busy at the moment.”
“Would you like to come over?” Shizuru asked.
The pause that greeted her question was loud in Shizuru’s ear. “Why don’t you come over here? Or we could meet somewhere else. I could use some ice cream. How does ice cream sound?”
Shizuru closed her eyes but her smile wasn’t gone. It was dampened, resigned, but not gone. “Ice cream sounds great.”
*
Not too long ago Shizuru had told Yamane that she was beginning to work things out in her life. If she had said those words today, they would have felt truer, but she hadn’t and she didn’t. Instead she savored her mint and green tea ice cream and watched the amusement park’s Ferris wheel light up the night from where she perched on the roof of a skyscraper in the business district. At their height there was a piercing wind that cut through her light jacket but Shizuru smiled around each small, chilling bite.
Yamane cast her a sideways glance, spoon scraping away thin layers from her scoop of black cherry. “I was going to say earlier that you look-really good tonight, Fujino-san. Healthy, I mean.”
Shizuru smiled at her, barely able to make out Yamane’s face in the darkness, which was probably as much visibility as the other woman had of her. “And you look really tired.”
She laughed to show she was teasing and Yamane joined her a beat later.
“Thank you, though,” Shizuru added in a sincerer tone, digging at her ice cream. “I do feel . . . healthy.”
“That’s good,” Yamane said, nodding.
“How do you feel?” Shizuru asked.
Yamane laughed weakly. “Probably as tired as I look.”
“Will your project be done soon?”
Yamane inhaled sharply and then said, “Probably. The big one, yes. I have a few smaller ones that’ll probably occupy me for a few more months, but those aren’t on a tight schedule.”
The wind picked up as Yamane was speaking and Shizuru shivered.
“You’re cold,” Yamane said. She set her ice cream aside and began to pull off her jacket.
“No, don’t,” Shizuru said, putting a hand on Yamane’s elbow to stop her. “I’m fine. If you give me your jacket then you’ll be cold.”
Yamane paused, one arm nearly free. “Yes, but-”
“Do you always have to be a gentleman?” Shizuru asked, tone playful.
“It makes me feel good?” Yamane said, as if she were testing the validity of her answer.
Shizuru laughed. “Well, I’d rather you keep warm.”
Yamane didn’t reply but reluctantly resettled into her jacket and reclaimed her cup of ice cream. Shizuru waited a minute before suggesting, “You could sit closer and we could both be warmer.”
Yamane peered at her through the darkness, eyes catching the reflection of some far off light. She was very quiet.
“Here,” Shizuru said and scooted closer. Yamane didn’t move away. Their arms pressed against each other. As nonchalantly as she could, Shizuru set about finishing her ice cream, trying to ignore the chill of each spoonful. But another shiver rippled through her. She felt the muscles in Yamane’s arm tense and then Yamane said, “Come on. Let’s get off the roof.”
Yamane scrambled to her feet, looked down at Shizuru, and offered her a hand up. Her grip was strong when Shizuru placed her hand in hers, but the moment Shizuru was standing, Yamane released her hold and found a sudden interest in her ice cream.
*
Natsuki was trying so hard not to fidget and Shizuru was doing her best to pretend she didn’t notice, a smile on her face that had nothing to do with the comedy of errors unfolding on the stage. Some time in the second act, when the hero was winning the heart of the heroine, a man sitting in the row in front of them glanced back and glared at Natsuki, whose small movements rustled in the quiet. Natsuki scowled at him but it was Shizuru who caught his eye as he turned back, her gaze cold and challenging. He froze and then turned back in his seat with a small noise of disgust.
Less than a half an hour later, the curtains fell and the audience erupted in a standing ovation. Natsuki joined in with polite reserve, looking immensely relieved that it was over, only to unsuccessfully smother her dread and annoyance as Shizuru led her to the backstage door. A small crowd was gathering and discussions of the play and the performances punctuated the chilly late-winter night. Shizuru sent Risa a message telling her that they were waiting for her.
“You didn’t like it,” Shizuru said matter-of-factly as she tucked her phone away in her purse.
Natsuki shrugged. “I didn’t like that he kept lying to her so that she would stay close to him.”
Shizuru paused, surprised. She hadn’t thought that Natsuki had been paying much attention to the plot.
“Well, that’s why he had to lose everything and learn to be honest before they could be together.”
Natsuki shrugged again and deigned no further comment. Shizuru stepped closer to the younger woman and slipped her arm through Natsuki’s, squeezing affectionately. “Thank you for coming.”
“Sure. I mean, you already had the tickets.”
Shizuru smiled and huddled close. They talked about their classes and Natsuki shared some gossip about her schoolmates, particularly the ones that Shizuru still remembered. When Shizuru asked after Tokiha and Tate, Natsuki answer was so curt it surprised her. Natsuki was frowning but before Shizuru could probe deeper, actors and crew began to emerge from the backstage door.
Shizuru spied Risa among the crowd but hung back as she was mobbed by other friends with congratulations. But Risa spotted her and waved her over enthusiastically. Shizuru pulled Natsuki up with her in a slow approach, letting the crush break down into smaller groups. When they were close, Risa broke off and engulfed Shizuru in a hug. “I’m so glad you came tonight!”
“Congratulations,” Shizuru said warmly as she tried to draw a breath. “The show was delightful and you were wonderful.”
Risa laughed and said right into her ear, “For the whole fifteen minutes I was on stage? Good try, but thanks anyway.” Risa pulled back with a grin on her face and turned to Natsuki. “Kuga-chan! You came!”
“Hey, Risa,” Natsuki said with a lift of her chin. “You looked pretty good up there.”
“Thanks, Kuga-chan,” Risa said, putting a slight emphasis on her pet name for Natsuki. She turned back to Shizuru. “Hey, are you coming to the after party?”
Shizuru glanced at Natsuki, who was looking studiously expressionless for once.
“Just for a little bit,” Risa said. “There are at least five people who want to meet you.”
“I don’t mind,” Natsuki said when Shizuru looked to her again. But there was uneasiness in the younger woman’s eyes now.
“How about next time?” Shizuru said to Risa gently.
“Is that a promise?” Risa asked, disappointed, but not by much. Her eyes were still shining with the high of opening a new show.
“It’s a tentative offer that I hope I can fulfill in the future,” Shizuru said smoothly. Risa smirked but hugged her again, stealing Shizuru’s breath away. As they were saying their goodbyes, Risa turned to Natsuki and said, “Try not to be so jealous next time, Kuga-chan.”
Natsuki ignored her and Shizuru ignored the wild urge to laugh.
*
Shizuru found the time around finals to be especially annoying, mostly because her peers seemed to consider it the perfect time to bother her. By the Friday night before her first final, Shizuru was fleeing her dorm room and eschewing the library for the welcome quiet of Yamane’s apartment. (As Shizuru had suspected and a quick phone call confirmed, Natsuki’s apartment was a hot spot of stress, noise, and frustration while the high school students studied for their own finals.) At the older woman’s kind offer, Shizuru turned off her cell phone and parked herself at the low table in Yamane’s living room.
Yamane was a quiet presence, mostly at the drafting table in the corner occupying herself with her rulers, pencils, and pens. The architect worked with a focused intensity, making careful measurements and staring thoughtfully at her designs. Occasionally she picked up her laptop from the floor beside her, settled it on her lap, and referenced something or made adjustments on a digital model. Now and then she made trips to the kitchen, returning with water or tea and sometimes biscuits, cookies, and other snacks, a portion of which she would lay on the table for Shizuru without comment, before drifting back to her desk.
Grateful for the silence, Shizuru forced herself to get a solid hour of uninterrupted study before allowing herself to snatch looks at Yamane. Absent, she noticed, was Yamane’s hunched uncertainty. She sat straighter in the chair, drew lines with confidence, and eyed her plans with a straightforward concentration that Shizuru rarely saw directed at herself. It was almost like observing another person and Shizuru watched, fascinated.
Once distracted, time passed quickly with her attention divided between her notes, Yamane, and the various things around the apartment that she could stare at sightlessly. Soon it was approaching midnight and Shizuru rushed to gather up her things.
“You can come back tomorrow, if you want,” Yamane said as she showed Shizuru to the door. “I won’t be here in the morning, but you’re welcome to come over in the afternoon or in the evening.”
“Thank you,” Shizuru responded. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
Yamane shook her head. “You were so quiet I barely even noticed you were here.”
Shizuru smiled. “I could say the same of you. I’m sure the library wasn’t as quiet tonight as your apartment was.”
Yamane crossed her arms and smirked with amusement. “I could make more noise next time if you feel like you need a distraction.”
“I think if I really wanted an excuse not to study,” Shizuru said slowly, “I could find a distraction in anything.” They exchanged smiles, Yamane’s part rueful, part nostalgic. Shizuru continued, “Really, though, Yamane-san, thank you for letting me study here. I’ll be sure to call tomorrow and let you know if I intend to come over.”
So Saturday night Shizuru lied to Risa about meeting a study group, stopped by the convenience store to pick up replacement snacks, and resumed her place at Yamane’s living room table, frowning at an indecipherable section in her notes. It might have been a spot of bad, frantic handwriting or the throbbing beginning to form behind her eyes.
The headache came on subtly, but not surprisingly. She had spent the early afternoon listening to Risa complain about her boyfriend, which boiled down to “He’s cheap and using me for sex but has the nerve to check out Eriko right in front of me! Tell me why I put up with him!” It might have been amusing at any other time, but Shizuru had been trying to skim through a load of reading assignments that she half-remembered or had outright skipped. The monumental tasks of trying to dispense advice and untangle the problems of international politics had left her feeling tired and unproductive long before she stumbled into Yamane’s apartment.
The pain only grew as the night dragged on and settled somewhere on the left side of her head. Shizuru rubbed at her temples in a futile attempt to stem the pulsating ache.
“Are you feeling alright?” Yamane asked from where she sat beneath the slightly ajar window.
Eyes shaded beneath a hand, Shizuru looked up into the older woman’s concerned face. “Just a slight headache.”
“Do you want something? I have aspirin and probably some ibuprofen.”
“No,” Shizuru shook her head. “I think I’ll be fine if a rest a bit.” She put her notes aside and stretched. Yamane continued to peer at her closely and then set down the magazine she had been reading. She got to her feet and disappeared into the kitchen, reemerging with a glass of water.
“Here,” she said, holding it out to Shizuru. “Keeping hydrated helps.”
Finding no reason to argue, Shizuru accepted the glass. The water was cool and refreshing on her tongue.
“More?” Yamane asked when Shizuru set the glass down, not yet empty.
“I’m fine for now, thank you.”
Yamane hesitated. Shizuru noticed that her hand had started to reach for the glass, but then the older woman nodded. “Just tell me if you need anything.” At Shizuru’s nod, Yamane returned to her magazine, quiet and unobtrusive.
An hour later, though, Shizuru’s head was still pounding. She tossed her notes onto the table in frustration and spread herself out on the floor, flinging an arm over her eyes to block out the light.
“Does your head still hurt? Should I get some aspirin?” she heard Yamane ask.
Shizuru made a noncommittal sound. There was some shuffling and then Yamane’s footsteps moving across the floor into the bedroom or the kitchen, returning a moment later.
“Here,” Yamane said softly. Shizuru removed her arm and had to blink against the light to see Yamane crouched next to her, a glass of water in one hand, two pills in the other.
“They’ll put me to sleep,” Shizuru said.
Yamane smiled. “Maybe you need some sleep.”
Shizuru glanced at the nearest clock. “It’s already ten. If I fall asleep now, I’ll probably sleep through the night. I don’t want to impose on you like that.”
Yamane paused then said, “You can spend the night if you want. It’s a better idea than sending you home with a debilitating headache.” Yamane smiled to show she knew she was exaggerating. “Come on, it’ll help you feel better.”
Shizuru sat up, wincing as the movement exacerbated the dull throb in her head, and took the pills with a sigh. “I’ll take them, but I should probably head home.” She swallowed the pills and then started massaging her temples with both hands. It would probably take twenty minutes at least before the pills kicked in.
Yamane watched her and then said quietly, “Maybe I can help ease the pain? May I see your hand?”
Shizuru held out her hand in silence, hoping that she didn’t look surprised. Yamane took it lightly between both of hers, then, holding Shizuru’s hand in her left and using her right, she pinched the webby flesh between Shizuru’s thumb and forefinger and began to lightly massage it. After a bit, Shizuru thought she felt some of the pressure in her head ease. She closed her eyes.
“Feel better?” Yamane inquired.
Shizuru hummed lowly. “I think so.”
“Turn around?” Yamane asked more than she commanded, releasing her hand. Shizuru opened her eyes, confused, but followed Yamane’s directions. She felt Yamane’s hand, warm, slip beneath the fall of her hair and settled on her neck, palm soft against her skin. With hesitant fingers Yamane pressed at the base of her skull, eased up, then pressed again with increasing pressure. Her touch became more confident as she continued, deviating slightly where she pressed sometimes, and at some point Shizuru felt Yamane’s other hand on her shoulder, stabilizing and steadying her. Minutes passed and under Yamane’s quiet ministrations, Shizuru began to drift off, relaxing, sagging forward as sleep teased at the borders of her consciousness.
When she came to, it was past eleven. She was lying on her side underneath a light blanket, a pillow under her head, and the floor unyielding beneath her body. She heard the tapping of keys and located Yamane on her laptop, back at her drafting desk. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, Shizuru pushed herself up and swept her hair back, enjoying the feel of her fingers brushing across her skull. Yamane turned around in her seat and smiled down at her.
“Feel better?”
“Yes,” Shizuru murmured, discovering the worst of her headache had receded. “Thank you.”
“Sorry that you had to sleep on the floor like that,” Yamane said, crossing her arms around her middle and leaning forward in her seat. “I didn’t want to move you.”
Shizuru stretched out the kinks in her back and then smiled. “I don’t feel so bad. I think the aspirin might be doing double duty.” She tossed the blanket aside and began to pack up her things. “It’s late, though. I should go. I think I can make it back now.”
Yamane got to her feet and asked, “Do you want me to drive you?”
“No, thank you. The train is still running-I should be fine.”
Yamane nodded and then disappeared into the kitchen, returning with another glass of water. “One for the road?”
Shizuru smiled ruefully and made sure to use Yamane’s bathroom before setting out. As Shizuru stepped into her shoes, Yamane stood behind her and leaned one shoulder against the wall, arms loosely draped around her middle. “I’m sorry you didn’t seem to get much studying done tonight.”
“It was better than staying in my dorm,” Shizuru assured her. “Thank you for letting me come over again to study and for-helping with my headache.”
Yamane’s lips curled up faintly at the corners and her gaze was gentle and somehow a little melancholy, maybe weary. “You’re welcome. Feel better.”
As Shizuru stepped out into the hall, she rubbed the back of her neck, pressing until her fingers ached with the tension. She sighed as she let her hand fall and turned her warm face into the cool night wind.
*
Early cherry blossom blooms and excitement filled the young spring air. The sun hung warm in a clear sky and the breeze stirred just gentle enough to take the bite out of the noon heat. It was a beautiful day to graduate.
Shizuru navigated her way through the crowd of families and friends toward the last place she’d seen Natsuki as the ceremony had wrapped up. Slipping around a final knot of people, she caught sight of her friend in deep conversation with one of her classmates-a boy, a fellow track star, in fact, if Shizuru recalled correctly. Beneath a pair of sparkling dark eyes, a wide smile split his youthful, almost boyish face, while his hands moved in nervous time with his words. Natsuki stood listening, not quite smiling but open in her body language.
The pair noticed Shizuru approaching at about the same time. As she neared, Shizuru caught the end of their hasty goodbyes and the awkward, indecisive way the young man clapped Natsuki on the shoulder before he beat a hasty retreat. He looked back once, Shizuru noted, but she was already moving in to embrace Natsuki.
“Congratulations,” she said as she pulled back.
“Thanks,” Natsuki said, brandishing her diploma with a smirk-smile that was part smugness and part embarrassed pride.
“How does it feel to be done?” Shizuru asked.
Natsuki shrugged eloquently and Shizuru laughed. She looped her arm through Natsuki’s and began to lead them out of the crowd. “You’re going to dinner tonight with Tokiha-san and the others to celebrate?”
Natsuki turned to look at her sharply. “You’re not coming?”
Shizuru deferred with a placating smile. When Natsuki had mentioned the dinner plan the other day in a phone conversation, Shizuru hadn’t committed herself to going or not. “I thought we could get lunch together, just the two of us.”
“I don’t mind doing that,” Natsuki said, scowling slightly, “but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t come to dinner.”
Shizuru’s smile softened. At that moment she knew she would be going to dinner with them but didn’t say so. “Where would you like to go for lunch?”
“You decide. Let me text Mai about tonight.”
On the way to Natsuki’s bike they chatted about inconsequential things, including some last tidbits of high school gossip that made Shizuru laugh. At Shizuru’s suggestion, they decided on sushi for lunch and blazed across town to their favorite sushi bar, a small establishment that usually wasn’t busy. Sliding into the empty corner booth, they ordered more than either of them really wanted to eat, but even Natsuki seemed to have been affected by the festive mood of the day-and Shizuru was paying (though Natsuki didn’t know it yet).
In the middle of their meal, a piece of tuna sashimi melting on her tongue, Shizuru said, “Your friend looked nice.”
Natsuki looked confused. “My friend?”
“The boy you were talking to earlier.”
“Oh, Kurosawa?” Natsuki shrugged. “Yeah, he’s nice.”
Shizuru pushed a roll around on her plate and held her breath against the question that crowded against the back of her throat. Natsuki popped a mayonnaise covered slice of sashimi into her mouth and said around the bite, “We were in the track and field club together. I think he likes Keiko.”
Shizuru raised her eyes to meet Natsuki’s. “If you ask me,” Shizuru said quietly, tightness clenching around her chest, “he looked interested in you.”
Natsuki dropped her eyes to the table. “He asked me out once.”
Shizuru tried to inhale but couldn’t. Natsuki pushed a balled up paper napkin behind her water glass and shook her head. “I told him I wasn’t interested. That I liked him as a friend.”
In the quiet following her words, Shizuru found her breath.
“I really meant it,” Natsuki said, looking at Shizuru through her lashes. Shizuru summoned a smile.
“Natsuki,” she said and then faltered. She pushed her hair behind an ear. “Natsuki, I don’t want you to think that-” She took a deep breath. “If you like someone . . . you don’t have to worry about me. I want you to feel like you can tell me these things.”
They stared at each other. Shizuru squelched the desire to touch Natsuki, to take the younger woman’s hand that rested on the table. After a minute, Natsuki’s expression began to waver into hesitation. She ducked her head. “I’ve been thinking about going away.”
The unexpected confession pushed Shizuru back into her seat, dazed and confused.
“Maybe not for very long,” Natsuki continued quickly, head snapping up and eyes earnest, “but-when we took our trip last summer, I liked it-you know, getting away and seeing other places. I want to travel a little bit and then-I don’t know. Probably start studying again for the entrance exams.”
Shizuru stared at the table, worrying a napkin between her fingers as she absorbed Natsuki’s words. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was smiling. She reached across the table and laid her hand atop Natsuki’s, squeezing. “Will you keep in touch?”
When Natsuki smiled back, her smile was soft but wide. “Yeah.”
*
“What would you do if your reason for staying somewhere moved away?”
Yamane, who had been scrutinizing the cookies baking in the oven (Shizuru’s idea), looked up. She was quiet, expression blank, and then she shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Have you . . .”
Yamane raised an eyebrow at Shizuru’s unfinished question but Shizuru wasn’t sure what she was trying to ask. She tried again. “Have you ever moved somewhere to be close to someone?”
“No,” Yamane said shortly, checking the timer. She picked up a rag and wiped at imaginary crumbs on the clean counter, presenting Shizuru with her profile. “But I know what it feels like to want to . . . try to get close to someone like that.”
Shizuru hugged her legs close to her chest and rested her cheek on her knees. “What did you do when you felt like that?”
“Nothing.” Yamane’s tone was frank.
Shizuru pursed her lips. “Do you regret it?”
Yamane set the rag aside and turned around, leaning back against the counter. She crossed her arms and gave Shizuru a slanted look. “No. At that point in my life it wouldn’t have worked out.”
Shizuru nodded, the motion a little awkward in her position. Yamane watched her sitting in her patch of sun and attempted a faint smile. But Shizuru saw how it wobbled, forced.
“I hope you know,” Yamane said lowly, “that I don’t tell you these things so that you’ll follow my example.”
After a moment Shizuru smiled. “I know.”
*
The night before Natsuki set out on her journey, Shizuru paid her a visit. They were alone and for the most part they were quiet. In between Shizuru’s occasional reminders about items Natsuki should pack, they talked about their trip the summer before, naming places Natsuki should visit again and souvenirs she should bring back. Natsuki promised to take pictures.
When she stood up to leave, Shizuru could only say, “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” Natsuki replied softly, staring at her feet. Then, to Shizuru’s surprise, Natsuki hugged her. Her embrace was warm, not tight or clinging, but sure and safe. “Thank you,” Natsuki whispered in her ear.
“For what?” Shizuru asked, bringing her arms up to encircle Natsuki. The younger woman was quiet. Shizuru felt her shift and her chin dip so that Natsuki’s mouth was pressed into her shoulder.
The words came out hoarsely: “For being my friend.”
Shizuru tightened her hold and forced her reply past the sudden lump in her throat. “You, too.”
They pulled away and gazed at each other awkwardly. It was Shizuru who laughed first, short and choked. They both smiled.
“I’ll be here when you get back,” Shizuru said.
“I know,” Natsuki said. She sounded grateful.
“Don’t stay away too long.”
Natsuki smirked. “I’ll try.”
For the first time in a long time, Shizuru spent the night on Natsuki’s couch and rose early the next day to help her younger friend strap bags onto her bike. Later in the morning a small group of the others joined them to say their goodbyes.
Natsuki turned to Shizuru last. They exchanged no words. Shizuru opened her arms and Natsuki stepped into her hug.
- Part Two -
Fandom: Mai HiME
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~19,500
Spoilers: Entire series
Tie-ins: Shizuru-Natsuki drabble cycle, "Orbiting"; sequel to "A Tangential Affair"
Featured Character: Fujino Shizuru
Disclaimer: SUNRISE's. Not mine.
Notes: This is a direct sequel/extension of "A Tangential Affair." Heartfelt thank yous to sataniscooler for her excellent eye and ear in beta reading, ifuritka for her constant enthusiastic support and honest opinions, and nemesisjk8 for spurring, encouraging, and critiquing me every step of the way.
Crossroads Schemata
- Part One -
In the chance moment that Fujino Shizuru met Yamane Aki’s eyes, she realized that she had never intended that this meeting take place. She was conscious, as the older woman stopped and turned to fully face her, of her arm looped through Natsuki’s, the smile on her face, and how her head bent close to her friend’s as she leaned on the other girl.
The smile faded somewhat.
“Fujino-san.” Yamane smiled with courteous pleasure. “Good evening.”
“Yamane-san,” Shizuru replied, watching Natsuki out of the corner of her eye. The younger woman looked curious but not all that interested. Shizuru knew, though, by the tilt of her ear, that she was listening. “This is a surprise.”
“Enjoying the night?” Yamane asked genially, now glancing at Natsuki and then back to Shizuru.
“Yes, we were just heading to the theater to catch a movie.” She straightened up, loosening her hold on Natsuki’s arm. With her free hand, she indicated her silent companion. “Yamane-san, this is my friend Kuga Natsuki. Natsuki, this is Yamane Aki-san.”
They exchanged pleasantries, Natsuki’s slight dip from the waist a little awkward because Shizuru hadn’t untangled herself, and then lapsed into silence.
“Are you out enjoying the night, Yamane-san?” Shizuru asked under the weight of their combined gazes.
“I will be, hopefully.” Yamane glanced at her watch. “I should probably let you get to your movie.” She turned to Natsuki. “It was nice meeting you, Kuga-san.”
“You, too,” Natsuki said, sounding a little uncertain at the formality of Yamane’s tone. But Yamane smiled and nodded, which offset the awkwardness of her words and bearing. Regardless, when Yamane said goodbye to her, Shizuru heard her own reply come out stilted. It was only when Yamane rushed off to catch the crossing light with a final apologetic bob of her head that Shizuru realized she had been holding her breath.
They stood there for a moment afterwards, Natsuki watching her. Then Natsuki took out her cell phone and noted the time. Not looking at her, the dark-haired girl said, “We still have some time before the movie. Do you want to get something to drink?”
“Yes,” Shizuru said with such emotion that she felt embarrassed by the rush of gratitude that gripped her. Natsuki avoided her eyes and, Shizuru thought for her sake, pretended not to notice.
*
Half an hour into the movie, Shizuru was lost. She had no idea who most of the characters blathering on the screen were or what flimsy plot was holding the story together. She kept glancing at Natsuki, who never seemed to look away from the film. Earlier, as Shizuru had sipped at a too-sweet iced tea, Natsuki hadn’t asked any questions about Yamane. But Shizuru couldn’t stop thinking on the matter-about what she would say, about what she should say, about all the things that had been happening to her that she hadn’t, wouldn’t, share with Natsuki, and about why that meeting had felt, for one moment, like the ground had shifted beneath her feet, leaving her off-balance and disoriented.
Later, as they were walking back arm-in-arm, Natsuki asked her one question: “Did you like the movie?”
Shizuru shrugged, brushing Natsuki’s shoulder in the process. “I thought it would be better.”
*
“Did you enjoy the movie?”
That was the extent of Yamane’s curiosity about their unexpected meeting, a topic that Shizuru had casually incorporated into her greeting as she settled into the booth. Some time had passed since the incident, but Yamane’s question left Shizuru momentarily stunned, then angry, then angry that she felt angry. After that, Shizuru found herself staring out the window for most of the evening, first at the darkening sky and then at her own increasingly distinct reflection in the glass.
She felt like a child.
Yamane was as quiet as she was. The older woman’s reflection showed her staring down at her coffee cup, occasionally reaching out and giving it a stir. She rarely raised her head to look at Shizuru directly.
“How was work?” Shizuru asked at last, the question sounding harsh. Yamane’s head jerked up in surprise.
“It was . . . okay, I guess.” Hearing her hesitation, Shizuru realized that this was the first time she had ever asked Yamane about how her workday had gone-or really, about her work at all. “They asked me to redesign a few things.” She pressed her lips together and then asked, “Fujino-san, is something wrong?”
Shizuru took a deep breath and sighed, feeling the anger seep out of her. When she spoke again, she turned to fully face Yamane. “No. Nothing’s wrong.”
Yamane nodded slowly.
Shizuru raised her tea to her lips-cold now-and took a generous sip. Setting the cup down, she held it gingerly between her fingers and leaned forward over the table. “Have you ever felt like things should be wrong, but they’re not?”
Yamane crossed her arms and cocked her head slightly, brow furrowed. “Maybe? I don’t think I understand your question.”
“Like . . . as if you’re the only person who thinks there’s something wrong while everyone around you doesn’t-doesn’t seem to care or-or even notice.”
“Oh.” Yamane freed a hand and fiddled with a napkin on the table. “Yes.”
Curiosity bit at Shizuru but Yamane looked uncomfortable. She spun her tea cup between her fingers. “I guess I just feel that way today.”
“Do you . . . want to talk about it?”
Shizuru paused, then said, “No.”
As she said it, unexpected sadness throbbed in her heart. She looked at Yamane, who was peering at her closely but gently, and was surprised at how her own silence filled the space between them. She waited but it was her farewells that broke it.
*
It was turning into a bad term. Though Shizuru’s grades weren’t suffering, everything else seemed to be. She and Natsuki were spending less time with each other, unsurprising since Natsuki was in her last semester at Fuuka Academy. The sudden appearance of study guides and study aids among the perpetual mess of her apartment went uncommented on by either of them. Natsuki seemed hesitant to talk about her plans following her graduation and Shizuru was even more hesitant to ask. The one time she had raised the subject, curled into the corner of Natsuki’s couch as they chatted after a movie, Natsuki had avoided her eye and said, “I’m not sure yet.”
So Shizuru refrained from bringing up the topic. It became a moot point, however, as the influx of tests, papers, and assignments began in earnest for both of them. They sent each other daily messages to update and encourage each other, but over time these took on a more conventional quality of habit.
They were both busy.
She was seeing Yamane less as well. The older woman looked more tired these days. One night when Yamane was drifting off into moments of weary inattention Shizuru asked after her health and Yamane instead explained that her project was picking up. After months of delays and budget concerns, it looked like the project was finally getting under way, but the demands of their clients had changed. She and Yamane simply began to see each other less and went for long stretches of time without any communication, having never been in the practice of texting each other outside of coordinating their schedules and suggesting plans to meet.
Shizuru received fewer calls these days.
In the meanwhile Shizuru busied herself with being busy. One day Risa sent her a text message that said, “I haven’t seen you in forever. Where have you been?” to which Shizuru replied that Risa had forgotten about her with her new boyfriend. Risa wrote back: “That’s shit. You never call me anymore.” Then, just minutes later: “Did we have a fight I didn’t know about?”
They hadn’t, of course, and Shizuru wasn’t sure she would have noticed anyway. She replied with a simple, “I’ve been busy,” which prompted Risa to show up at her door that very night.
“Shizuru-chan!” Risa sang as she knocked incessantly.
Shizuru opened the door just to stop the noise. “Ara. Risa-san. Tell me why I should let you in after all that racket.”
Risa raised a paper bag. “Because I brought alcohol?”
Shizuru made to close the door and Risa quickly thrust a foot in the way. “Because I skipped a night to be with my boyfriend to come check up on you?”
Shizuru frowned to fight her smile. “I’m fine,” she said as she opened the door wider.
“No one has seen you outside of class lately,” Risa said as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “I know, I asked. I was ready to go hunt down Kuga-chan.”
“Natsuki’s even busier than I am,” Shizuru admonished her. “Don’t bother her.”
Risa rooted around for glasses. “So I take it you haven’t been spending your time with her either?”
Shizuru maneuvered Risa out of her way and produced two glasses. “I told you, I’ve been busy.”
Risa looked skeptical. “No busier than the rest of us.” From the paper bag she pulled out a bottle of cheap red wine and looked at it in consternation. “Do you have a bottle opener? Oh, and you have to come to my show. Opening night is two weeks away.”
Shizuru handed Risa the bottle opener and gestured toward the chairs. “I think I’m doing a presentation that week.”
“You don’t have to come to opening night,” Risa said but her tone made it clear that she would appreciate it if Shizuru did. “You just have to come.”
“Alright,” Shizuru relented as she sank into a chair.
“You can bring Kuga-chan.” The cork came out with a sucking pop and Risa poured them out generous portions. Shizuru let Risa try the wine first, amused at the pinched look of mild disgust Risa gave it. Taking that as a sign of the wine’s quality, Shizuru swirled the liquid under the pretense of letting it breathe.
“I’m not sure Natsuki is a big theater person,” Shizuru said, tucking her hair back. “And she’ll probably be worrying about her upcoming exams around then.”
“Fine, fine. I get it.” Risa tapped her glass against Shizuru’s. “So you’ll have to give me a better excuse than just classes to explain why you’ve been missing.”
Shizuru crossed her legs at the knees and leaned back in her chair. “What do you want to hear?”
“How about that you’re having a torrid love affair?” Risa suggested.
“I’ve been having a torrid love affair,” Shizuru echoed, punctuating her words with a slow smile.
Risa peered narrow-eyed at her over the rim of her glass. “You know, it’s hard to tell when you’re kidding.”
Shizuru laughed. Risa didn’t. She was giving Shizuru a slanted look. “There has been something different about you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s different about me?”
“Besides the whole avoiding people thing?”
“I’m not avoiding people,” Shizuru said gently.
“You were never this . . . much of a hermit before,” Risa pointed out.
“Maybe that’s how I really am,” Shizuru said with a shrug. Risa looked incredulous. “Maybe I like being alone.”
They stared at each other for a bit. Risa’s expression grew serious and her eyes hard. Shizuru had never seen her friend look like that. The intensity of Risa’s gaze tried to penetrate something in Shizuru’s, but Shizuru felt unafraid, opaque.
When the silence had stretched too long, Shizuru quietly said, “I’ll come to your show.” Risa stiffened and then set her cup down.
“Alright. It opens Wednesday. At seven. I’ll leave the rest of the wine here for you.”
They stood up together and Shizuru showed her to the door. Out in the hall, Risa looked like she was going to say something else but then her shoulders drooped as if she had released a deep breath. “Good night, Shizuru. I hope things get less busy for you.”
“Thank you for stopping by.” Sincerity underlined Shizuru’s words, and maybe a little bit of an apology.
“Yeah. Any time. Call me if you want to meet up and do something, yeah?”
Shizuru leaned against the doorframe. “I will. Good night.”
When she closed the door, it was very quiet in her dorm.
*
Shizuru understood what Risa had been trying to tell her but she pretended not to for a few more days. There was something to be said for not wanting to see anyone, a quiet in her solitude that could be sometimes frightening, sometimes calming, sometimes one right after the other.
The day Shizuru was done pretending, she set aside her assigned reading and sat with her cell phone. She held it in her hands and stared into it, as if somewhere within the shallow depths of its display there might be a hint as to her next step.
She opened her phonebook and tapped aimlessly through her contacts. The cursor cycled back to the beginning several times before she let it stop on a number she had not called since-she couldn’t remember when.
It rang twice before the familiar voice said, “Hello?”
“Hello, Mother,” Shizuru said warmly.
“Ara, Shizuru! Is something wrong? Do you need something?”
Shizuru smiled feebly, exasperated and saddened by her mother’s greeting. “No, nothing’s wrong. I just thought I’d call you.”
“Oh,” her mother said, unruffled. “Well, how are you doing? How are your studies?”
“I’m fine,” Shizuru assured her, “and my studies are going well.”
They chatted at length. Shizuru recounted the mundane details of her living conditions and her mother informed her about her father’s health and the long hours he spent working, the affairs of her aunts and uncles, and the bald facts of the juiciest gossip surrounding her cousins’ activities. Her mother spoke in a frank manner that bordered, at times, on being overly forward, but Shizuru had grown up watching (and learning from) her. People remarked on their differences-her mother’s somberness; her playfulness-but Shizuru knew where she had gotten her instinct for people and whose example she had grown up emulating.
When her mother’s torrent of news turned into a trickle, Shizuru excused herself.
“Your father will be home soon,” her mother told her. “If you wait, you can talk to him.”
“No, that’s fine. I have a few things I have to do,” Shizuru said. “Tell him I called and that I said hello.”
“I will. Take care of yourself, dear.”
“I will, Mother. You too.” She paused and then added, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” her mother replied without missing a beat.
“Bye,” Shizuru said hurriedly, barely waiting for her mother’s response before flipping her phone closed. For the next few minutes she sat motionless and watched the day get progressively darker outside her window. Then she reopened her phone and called Natsuki.
Natsuki answered quickly. She sounded tired but she asked Shizuru how she was doing and told Shizuru that she was beginning to regret the “be a normal high school student” thing.
“I don’t know what’s worse: the First District or all these exams.”
Shizuru smiled. “You did fine in all your exams last year and you’ve been getting good grades this year. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
Natsuki grumbled something indistinct.
Shizuru closed her eyes and massaged her temple with one hand. In a gentle, soft voice she said, “You still have until next year to study before you take the entrance exams.”
She heard Natsuki exhale into her phone. “Yeah. I didn’t . . . feel ready to take it this year. But I feel like I should be studying.” Natsuki paused and then said quietly, “I don’t even know if I want to go to college.”
“You have time”-and the money, Shizuru mentally added-“to figure that out, too. You don’t have to rush into anything. I think we-I think you’ve earned that.” She pushed her hair back and stared at a spot on the tabletop. “Have you ever thought about pursuing photography?”
“Huh?”
“You’ve been taking a lot of pictures lately.”
“Yeah, but . . . that’s just for fun.”
“I think you should think about it-if you really like it, I mean,” Shizuru said and felt an unfamiliar warmth spreading through her, a sudden lightness and fondness that stretched her lips into a smile. “I think you could be a wonderful photographer.”
Natsuki was quiet, though Shizuru sensed she might have been fighting the urge to toss out something blasé like “Whatever.”
“Maybe,” Natsuki said, without much conviction.
The conversation turned to lighter topics after that. As they said their goodbyes, Shizuru said, “Natsuki, would you like to go to a show? Risa is in a play that’s opening next week.”
Natsuki hesitated just long enough to hint that the invitation didn’t thrill her, but she answered, “I might be busy. Ask me again closer to when it opens?”
Shizuru agreed and when she hung up she was smiling. She dashed off a message to Risa asking her if she had saved her tickets for opening night and then juggled her phone in one hand. There was one last call she wanted to make.
“Hello?”
“Yamane-san, are you busy?”
“Hello, Fujino-san,” Yamane replied, unfailingly courteous. “No, I’m not busy at the moment.”
“Would you like to come over?” Shizuru asked.
The pause that greeted her question was loud in Shizuru’s ear. “Why don’t you come over here? Or we could meet somewhere else. I could use some ice cream. How does ice cream sound?”
Shizuru closed her eyes but her smile wasn’t gone. It was dampened, resigned, but not gone. “Ice cream sounds great.”
*
Not too long ago Shizuru had told Yamane that she was beginning to work things out in her life. If she had said those words today, they would have felt truer, but she hadn’t and she didn’t. Instead she savored her mint and green tea ice cream and watched the amusement park’s Ferris wheel light up the night from where she perched on the roof of a skyscraper in the business district. At their height there was a piercing wind that cut through her light jacket but Shizuru smiled around each small, chilling bite.
Yamane cast her a sideways glance, spoon scraping away thin layers from her scoop of black cherry. “I was going to say earlier that you look-really good tonight, Fujino-san. Healthy, I mean.”
Shizuru smiled at her, barely able to make out Yamane’s face in the darkness, which was probably as much visibility as the other woman had of her. “And you look really tired.”
She laughed to show she was teasing and Yamane joined her a beat later.
“Thank you, though,” Shizuru added in a sincerer tone, digging at her ice cream. “I do feel . . . healthy.”
“That’s good,” Yamane said, nodding.
“How do you feel?” Shizuru asked.
Yamane laughed weakly. “Probably as tired as I look.”
“Will your project be done soon?”
Yamane inhaled sharply and then said, “Probably. The big one, yes. I have a few smaller ones that’ll probably occupy me for a few more months, but those aren’t on a tight schedule.”
The wind picked up as Yamane was speaking and Shizuru shivered.
“You’re cold,” Yamane said. She set her ice cream aside and began to pull off her jacket.
“No, don’t,” Shizuru said, putting a hand on Yamane’s elbow to stop her. “I’m fine. If you give me your jacket then you’ll be cold.”
Yamane paused, one arm nearly free. “Yes, but-”
“Do you always have to be a gentleman?” Shizuru asked, tone playful.
“It makes me feel good?” Yamane said, as if she were testing the validity of her answer.
Shizuru laughed. “Well, I’d rather you keep warm.”
Yamane didn’t reply but reluctantly resettled into her jacket and reclaimed her cup of ice cream. Shizuru waited a minute before suggesting, “You could sit closer and we could both be warmer.”
Yamane peered at her through the darkness, eyes catching the reflection of some far off light. She was very quiet.
“Here,” Shizuru said and scooted closer. Yamane didn’t move away. Their arms pressed against each other. As nonchalantly as she could, Shizuru set about finishing her ice cream, trying to ignore the chill of each spoonful. But another shiver rippled through her. She felt the muscles in Yamane’s arm tense and then Yamane said, “Come on. Let’s get off the roof.”
Yamane scrambled to her feet, looked down at Shizuru, and offered her a hand up. Her grip was strong when Shizuru placed her hand in hers, but the moment Shizuru was standing, Yamane released her hold and found a sudden interest in her ice cream.
*
Natsuki was trying so hard not to fidget and Shizuru was doing her best to pretend she didn’t notice, a smile on her face that had nothing to do with the comedy of errors unfolding on the stage. Some time in the second act, when the hero was winning the heart of the heroine, a man sitting in the row in front of them glanced back and glared at Natsuki, whose small movements rustled in the quiet. Natsuki scowled at him but it was Shizuru who caught his eye as he turned back, her gaze cold and challenging. He froze and then turned back in his seat with a small noise of disgust.
Less than a half an hour later, the curtains fell and the audience erupted in a standing ovation. Natsuki joined in with polite reserve, looking immensely relieved that it was over, only to unsuccessfully smother her dread and annoyance as Shizuru led her to the backstage door. A small crowd was gathering and discussions of the play and the performances punctuated the chilly late-winter night. Shizuru sent Risa a message telling her that they were waiting for her.
“You didn’t like it,” Shizuru said matter-of-factly as she tucked her phone away in her purse.
Natsuki shrugged. “I didn’t like that he kept lying to her so that she would stay close to him.”
Shizuru paused, surprised. She hadn’t thought that Natsuki had been paying much attention to the plot.
“Well, that’s why he had to lose everything and learn to be honest before they could be together.”
Natsuki shrugged again and deigned no further comment. Shizuru stepped closer to the younger woman and slipped her arm through Natsuki’s, squeezing affectionately. “Thank you for coming.”
“Sure. I mean, you already had the tickets.”
Shizuru smiled and huddled close. They talked about their classes and Natsuki shared some gossip about her schoolmates, particularly the ones that Shizuru still remembered. When Shizuru asked after Tokiha and Tate, Natsuki answer was so curt it surprised her. Natsuki was frowning but before Shizuru could probe deeper, actors and crew began to emerge from the backstage door.
Shizuru spied Risa among the crowd but hung back as she was mobbed by other friends with congratulations. But Risa spotted her and waved her over enthusiastically. Shizuru pulled Natsuki up with her in a slow approach, letting the crush break down into smaller groups. When they were close, Risa broke off and engulfed Shizuru in a hug. “I’m so glad you came tonight!”
“Congratulations,” Shizuru said warmly as she tried to draw a breath. “The show was delightful and you were wonderful.”
Risa laughed and said right into her ear, “For the whole fifteen minutes I was on stage? Good try, but thanks anyway.” Risa pulled back with a grin on her face and turned to Natsuki. “Kuga-chan! You came!”
“Hey, Risa,” Natsuki said with a lift of her chin. “You looked pretty good up there.”
“Thanks, Kuga-chan,” Risa said, putting a slight emphasis on her pet name for Natsuki. She turned back to Shizuru. “Hey, are you coming to the after party?”
Shizuru glanced at Natsuki, who was looking studiously expressionless for once.
“Just for a little bit,” Risa said. “There are at least five people who want to meet you.”
“I don’t mind,” Natsuki said when Shizuru looked to her again. But there was uneasiness in the younger woman’s eyes now.
“How about next time?” Shizuru said to Risa gently.
“Is that a promise?” Risa asked, disappointed, but not by much. Her eyes were still shining with the high of opening a new show.
“It’s a tentative offer that I hope I can fulfill in the future,” Shizuru said smoothly. Risa smirked but hugged her again, stealing Shizuru’s breath away. As they were saying their goodbyes, Risa turned to Natsuki and said, “Try not to be so jealous next time, Kuga-chan.”
Natsuki ignored her and Shizuru ignored the wild urge to laugh.
*
Shizuru found the time around finals to be especially annoying, mostly because her peers seemed to consider it the perfect time to bother her. By the Friday night before her first final, Shizuru was fleeing her dorm room and eschewing the library for the welcome quiet of Yamane’s apartment. (As Shizuru had suspected and a quick phone call confirmed, Natsuki’s apartment was a hot spot of stress, noise, and frustration while the high school students studied for their own finals.) At the older woman’s kind offer, Shizuru turned off her cell phone and parked herself at the low table in Yamane’s living room.
Yamane was a quiet presence, mostly at the drafting table in the corner occupying herself with her rulers, pencils, and pens. The architect worked with a focused intensity, making careful measurements and staring thoughtfully at her designs. Occasionally she picked up her laptop from the floor beside her, settled it on her lap, and referenced something or made adjustments on a digital model. Now and then she made trips to the kitchen, returning with water or tea and sometimes biscuits, cookies, and other snacks, a portion of which she would lay on the table for Shizuru without comment, before drifting back to her desk.
Grateful for the silence, Shizuru forced herself to get a solid hour of uninterrupted study before allowing herself to snatch looks at Yamane. Absent, she noticed, was Yamane’s hunched uncertainty. She sat straighter in the chair, drew lines with confidence, and eyed her plans with a straightforward concentration that Shizuru rarely saw directed at herself. It was almost like observing another person and Shizuru watched, fascinated.
Once distracted, time passed quickly with her attention divided between her notes, Yamane, and the various things around the apartment that she could stare at sightlessly. Soon it was approaching midnight and Shizuru rushed to gather up her things.
“You can come back tomorrow, if you want,” Yamane said as she showed Shizuru to the door. “I won’t be here in the morning, but you’re welcome to come over in the afternoon or in the evening.”
“Thank you,” Shizuru responded. “Are you sure you don’t mind?”
Yamane shook her head. “You were so quiet I barely even noticed you were here.”
Shizuru smiled. “I could say the same of you. I’m sure the library wasn’t as quiet tonight as your apartment was.”
Yamane crossed her arms and smirked with amusement. “I could make more noise next time if you feel like you need a distraction.”
“I think if I really wanted an excuse not to study,” Shizuru said slowly, “I could find a distraction in anything.” They exchanged smiles, Yamane’s part rueful, part nostalgic. Shizuru continued, “Really, though, Yamane-san, thank you for letting me study here. I’ll be sure to call tomorrow and let you know if I intend to come over.”
So Saturday night Shizuru lied to Risa about meeting a study group, stopped by the convenience store to pick up replacement snacks, and resumed her place at Yamane’s living room table, frowning at an indecipherable section in her notes. It might have been a spot of bad, frantic handwriting or the throbbing beginning to form behind her eyes.
The headache came on subtly, but not surprisingly. She had spent the early afternoon listening to Risa complain about her boyfriend, which boiled down to “He’s cheap and using me for sex but has the nerve to check out Eriko right in front of me! Tell me why I put up with him!” It might have been amusing at any other time, but Shizuru had been trying to skim through a load of reading assignments that she half-remembered or had outright skipped. The monumental tasks of trying to dispense advice and untangle the problems of international politics had left her feeling tired and unproductive long before she stumbled into Yamane’s apartment.
The pain only grew as the night dragged on and settled somewhere on the left side of her head. Shizuru rubbed at her temples in a futile attempt to stem the pulsating ache.
“Are you feeling alright?” Yamane asked from where she sat beneath the slightly ajar window.
Eyes shaded beneath a hand, Shizuru looked up into the older woman’s concerned face. “Just a slight headache.”
“Do you want something? I have aspirin and probably some ibuprofen.”
“No,” Shizuru shook her head. “I think I’ll be fine if a rest a bit.” She put her notes aside and stretched. Yamane continued to peer at her closely and then set down the magazine she had been reading. She got to her feet and disappeared into the kitchen, reemerging with a glass of water.
“Here,” she said, holding it out to Shizuru. “Keeping hydrated helps.”
Finding no reason to argue, Shizuru accepted the glass. The water was cool and refreshing on her tongue.
“More?” Yamane asked when Shizuru set the glass down, not yet empty.
“I’m fine for now, thank you.”
Yamane hesitated. Shizuru noticed that her hand had started to reach for the glass, but then the older woman nodded. “Just tell me if you need anything.” At Shizuru’s nod, Yamane returned to her magazine, quiet and unobtrusive.
An hour later, though, Shizuru’s head was still pounding. She tossed her notes onto the table in frustration and spread herself out on the floor, flinging an arm over her eyes to block out the light.
“Does your head still hurt? Should I get some aspirin?” she heard Yamane ask.
Shizuru made a noncommittal sound. There was some shuffling and then Yamane’s footsteps moving across the floor into the bedroom or the kitchen, returning a moment later.
“Here,” Yamane said softly. Shizuru removed her arm and had to blink against the light to see Yamane crouched next to her, a glass of water in one hand, two pills in the other.
“They’ll put me to sleep,” Shizuru said.
Yamane smiled. “Maybe you need some sleep.”
Shizuru glanced at the nearest clock. “It’s already ten. If I fall asleep now, I’ll probably sleep through the night. I don’t want to impose on you like that.”
Yamane paused then said, “You can spend the night if you want. It’s a better idea than sending you home with a debilitating headache.” Yamane smiled to show she knew she was exaggerating. “Come on, it’ll help you feel better.”
Shizuru sat up, wincing as the movement exacerbated the dull throb in her head, and took the pills with a sigh. “I’ll take them, but I should probably head home.” She swallowed the pills and then started massaging her temples with both hands. It would probably take twenty minutes at least before the pills kicked in.
Yamane watched her and then said quietly, “Maybe I can help ease the pain? May I see your hand?”
Shizuru held out her hand in silence, hoping that she didn’t look surprised. Yamane took it lightly between both of hers, then, holding Shizuru’s hand in her left and using her right, she pinched the webby flesh between Shizuru’s thumb and forefinger and began to lightly massage it. After a bit, Shizuru thought she felt some of the pressure in her head ease. She closed her eyes.
“Feel better?” Yamane inquired.
Shizuru hummed lowly. “I think so.”
“Turn around?” Yamane asked more than she commanded, releasing her hand. Shizuru opened her eyes, confused, but followed Yamane’s directions. She felt Yamane’s hand, warm, slip beneath the fall of her hair and settled on her neck, palm soft against her skin. With hesitant fingers Yamane pressed at the base of her skull, eased up, then pressed again with increasing pressure. Her touch became more confident as she continued, deviating slightly where she pressed sometimes, and at some point Shizuru felt Yamane’s other hand on her shoulder, stabilizing and steadying her. Minutes passed and under Yamane’s quiet ministrations, Shizuru began to drift off, relaxing, sagging forward as sleep teased at the borders of her consciousness.
When she came to, it was past eleven. She was lying on her side underneath a light blanket, a pillow under her head, and the floor unyielding beneath her body. She heard the tapping of keys and located Yamane on her laptop, back at her drafting desk. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, Shizuru pushed herself up and swept her hair back, enjoying the feel of her fingers brushing across her skull. Yamane turned around in her seat and smiled down at her.
“Feel better?”
“Yes,” Shizuru murmured, discovering the worst of her headache had receded. “Thank you.”
“Sorry that you had to sleep on the floor like that,” Yamane said, crossing her arms around her middle and leaning forward in her seat. “I didn’t want to move you.”
Shizuru stretched out the kinks in her back and then smiled. “I don’t feel so bad. I think the aspirin might be doing double duty.” She tossed the blanket aside and began to pack up her things. “It’s late, though. I should go. I think I can make it back now.”
Yamane got to her feet and asked, “Do you want me to drive you?”
“No, thank you. The train is still running-I should be fine.”
Yamane nodded and then disappeared into the kitchen, returning with another glass of water. “One for the road?”
Shizuru smiled ruefully and made sure to use Yamane’s bathroom before setting out. As Shizuru stepped into her shoes, Yamane stood behind her and leaned one shoulder against the wall, arms loosely draped around her middle. “I’m sorry you didn’t seem to get much studying done tonight.”
“It was better than staying in my dorm,” Shizuru assured her. “Thank you for letting me come over again to study and for-helping with my headache.”
Yamane’s lips curled up faintly at the corners and her gaze was gentle and somehow a little melancholy, maybe weary. “You’re welcome. Feel better.”
As Shizuru stepped out into the hall, she rubbed the back of her neck, pressing until her fingers ached with the tension. She sighed as she let her hand fall and turned her warm face into the cool night wind.
*
Early cherry blossom blooms and excitement filled the young spring air. The sun hung warm in a clear sky and the breeze stirred just gentle enough to take the bite out of the noon heat. It was a beautiful day to graduate.
Shizuru navigated her way through the crowd of families and friends toward the last place she’d seen Natsuki as the ceremony had wrapped up. Slipping around a final knot of people, she caught sight of her friend in deep conversation with one of her classmates-a boy, a fellow track star, in fact, if Shizuru recalled correctly. Beneath a pair of sparkling dark eyes, a wide smile split his youthful, almost boyish face, while his hands moved in nervous time with his words. Natsuki stood listening, not quite smiling but open in her body language.
The pair noticed Shizuru approaching at about the same time. As she neared, Shizuru caught the end of their hasty goodbyes and the awkward, indecisive way the young man clapped Natsuki on the shoulder before he beat a hasty retreat. He looked back once, Shizuru noted, but she was already moving in to embrace Natsuki.
“Congratulations,” she said as she pulled back.
“Thanks,” Natsuki said, brandishing her diploma with a smirk-smile that was part smugness and part embarrassed pride.
“How does it feel to be done?” Shizuru asked.
Natsuki shrugged eloquently and Shizuru laughed. She looped her arm through Natsuki’s and began to lead them out of the crowd. “You’re going to dinner tonight with Tokiha-san and the others to celebrate?”
Natsuki turned to look at her sharply. “You’re not coming?”
Shizuru deferred with a placating smile. When Natsuki had mentioned the dinner plan the other day in a phone conversation, Shizuru hadn’t committed herself to going or not. “I thought we could get lunch together, just the two of us.”
“I don’t mind doing that,” Natsuki said, scowling slightly, “but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t come to dinner.”
Shizuru’s smile softened. At that moment she knew she would be going to dinner with them but didn’t say so. “Where would you like to go for lunch?”
“You decide. Let me text Mai about tonight.”
On the way to Natsuki’s bike they chatted about inconsequential things, including some last tidbits of high school gossip that made Shizuru laugh. At Shizuru’s suggestion, they decided on sushi for lunch and blazed across town to their favorite sushi bar, a small establishment that usually wasn’t busy. Sliding into the empty corner booth, they ordered more than either of them really wanted to eat, but even Natsuki seemed to have been affected by the festive mood of the day-and Shizuru was paying (though Natsuki didn’t know it yet).
In the middle of their meal, a piece of tuna sashimi melting on her tongue, Shizuru said, “Your friend looked nice.”
Natsuki looked confused. “My friend?”
“The boy you were talking to earlier.”
“Oh, Kurosawa?” Natsuki shrugged. “Yeah, he’s nice.”
Shizuru pushed a roll around on her plate and held her breath against the question that crowded against the back of her throat. Natsuki popped a mayonnaise covered slice of sashimi into her mouth and said around the bite, “We were in the track and field club together. I think he likes Keiko.”
Shizuru raised her eyes to meet Natsuki’s. “If you ask me,” Shizuru said quietly, tightness clenching around her chest, “he looked interested in you.”
Natsuki dropped her eyes to the table. “He asked me out once.”
Shizuru tried to inhale but couldn’t. Natsuki pushed a balled up paper napkin behind her water glass and shook her head. “I told him I wasn’t interested. That I liked him as a friend.”
In the quiet following her words, Shizuru found her breath.
“I really meant it,” Natsuki said, looking at Shizuru through her lashes. Shizuru summoned a smile.
“Natsuki,” she said and then faltered. She pushed her hair behind an ear. “Natsuki, I don’t want you to think that-” She took a deep breath. “If you like someone . . . you don’t have to worry about me. I want you to feel like you can tell me these things.”
They stared at each other. Shizuru squelched the desire to touch Natsuki, to take the younger woman’s hand that rested on the table. After a minute, Natsuki’s expression began to waver into hesitation. She ducked her head. “I’ve been thinking about going away.”
The unexpected confession pushed Shizuru back into her seat, dazed and confused.
“Maybe not for very long,” Natsuki continued quickly, head snapping up and eyes earnest, “but-when we took our trip last summer, I liked it-you know, getting away and seeing other places. I want to travel a little bit and then-I don’t know. Probably start studying again for the entrance exams.”
Shizuru stared at the table, worrying a napkin between her fingers as she absorbed Natsuki’s words. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was smiling. She reached across the table and laid her hand atop Natsuki’s, squeezing. “Will you keep in touch?”
When Natsuki smiled back, her smile was soft but wide. “Yeah.”
*
“What would you do if your reason for staying somewhere moved away?”
Yamane, who had been scrutinizing the cookies baking in the oven (Shizuru’s idea), looked up. She was quiet, expression blank, and then she shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Have you . . .”
Yamane raised an eyebrow at Shizuru’s unfinished question but Shizuru wasn’t sure what she was trying to ask. She tried again. “Have you ever moved somewhere to be close to someone?”
“No,” Yamane said shortly, checking the timer. She picked up a rag and wiped at imaginary crumbs on the clean counter, presenting Shizuru with her profile. “But I know what it feels like to want to . . . try to get close to someone like that.”
Shizuru hugged her legs close to her chest and rested her cheek on her knees. “What did you do when you felt like that?”
“Nothing.” Yamane’s tone was frank.
Shizuru pursed her lips. “Do you regret it?”
Yamane set the rag aside and turned around, leaning back against the counter. She crossed her arms and gave Shizuru a slanted look. “No. At that point in my life it wouldn’t have worked out.”
Shizuru nodded, the motion a little awkward in her position. Yamane watched her sitting in her patch of sun and attempted a faint smile. But Shizuru saw how it wobbled, forced.
“I hope you know,” Yamane said lowly, “that I don’t tell you these things so that you’ll follow my example.”
After a moment Shizuru smiled. “I know.”
*
The night before Natsuki set out on her journey, Shizuru paid her a visit. They were alone and for the most part they were quiet. In between Shizuru’s occasional reminders about items Natsuki should pack, they talked about their trip the summer before, naming places Natsuki should visit again and souvenirs she should bring back. Natsuki promised to take pictures.
When she stood up to leave, Shizuru could only say, “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” Natsuki replied softly, staring at her feet. Then, to Shizuru’s surprise, Natsuki hugged her. Her embrace was warm, not tight or clinging, but sure and safe. “Thank you,” Natsuki whispered in her ear.
“For what?” Shizuru asked, bringing her arms up to encircle Natsuki. The younger woman was quiet. Shizuru felt her shift and her chin dip so that Natsuki’s mouth was pressed into her shoulder.
The words came out hoarsely: “For being my friend.”
Shizuru tightened her hold and forced her reply past the sudden lump in her throat. “You, too.”
They pulled away and gazed at each other awkwardly. It was Shizuru who laughed first, short and choked. They both smiled.
“I’ll be here when you get back,” Shizuru said.
“I know,” Natsuki said. She sounded grateful.
“Don’t stay away too long.”
Natsuki smirked. “I’ll try.”
For the first time in a long time, Shizuru spent the night on Natsuki’s couch and rose early the next day to help her younger friend strap bags onto her bike. Later in the morning a small group of the others joined them to say their goodbyes.
Natsuki turned to Shizuru last. They exchanged no words. Shizuru opened her arms and Natsuki stepped into her hug.
- Part Two -