RECORDING
Chapter Thirteen
Things Keep Happening
Ritsu woke up suddenly on Saturday morning with a top-grade headache and Mio spooning her from behind. Even in this pale dawn hour the drummer knew how things were going to be between the two of them, parents be damned.
She poked her dry tongue out of her dry mouth, tasting the bitterness of autumn and other things. She spat out some tawny locks that had fallen into her mouth whilst she slept. She tried to sit up, but as a tough seat belt keeps one from moving in a car, so Mio kept her hold on Ritsu. The bassist had her arms clamped about her girlfriend's torso in an unconscious purchase. Grasping her bedframe, Ritsu tried to pull herself free. Mio simply tightened her grip, murmuring, "…Issu…"
Sighing, Ritsu flopped her head back down on her pillow. Mio was not going to let go of her until she woke up, the drummer knew that for sure. Throughout their girlhood sleepovers they had learned each other's somnolent habits. Ritsu kicked and talked in her sleep; Mio reflexively spooned anything that touched her. The brunette had been the victim of her best friend's slumberous cuddling before. Usually she turned around and bopped Mio until the raven-haired girl woke up. Now she couldn't bring herself to rouse Mio at this ungodly hour. She could hardly believe she herself had woken up this early.
You're the one, Ritsu.
The drummer's breath caught in her throat and an electric shock ran through her collarbone. She shivered despite the wonderfully drowsy warmth of her bed, the covers, and her girlfriend snuggled up behind her. "M-Mio…" Ritsu brought a trembling hand to her mouth, her hazel eyes welling up. I can't believe she said all those things to me. I can't believe she's my girlfriend! I thought for sure that she'd turn me down. Her lips ached exquisitely from the memory of the kisses Mio had given her the night before: for being a good friend and staying by her side. "Oh, Mio," Ritsu sighed, cupping her hands over the bassist's hand. I'll be a better girlfriend and stay by your side till the end.
Ritsu was beginning to think she could let Mio sleep for so long that the drummer would starve before she woke up. Then she felt a pang of urgency in her lower tummy. She suddenly remembered what she had to routinely do every morning.
Raising her elbow, she gently prodded her girlfriend. "Mio, wake up. I gotta go…"
Mio sighed and stirred slightly. She slid her left hand up Ritsu's tummy. The drummer's back went stiff as she felt the raven-haired girl's hand whisk lightly along her breast and settle there. It didn't stop there; Mio tightened her grasp until she was firmly cupping Ritsu's left breast.
Trying with all her might to control her breathing, the brunette laughed nervously. "Eheheh. Tryin' to cop a cheap feel there, Mio-chuan? I never thought you'd want to move our relationship this fast." When she got no response, she realized Mio was still asleep. Her eyes narrowed and she sweat-dropped. What sort of things does this perv dream about when she cuddles?
A choked gasp exploded from her throat as she felt Mio's hand tighten around her breast still. That hurts…She squeaked frightfully as Mio continued to squeeze harder. Pain lanced through her ribs. Ritsu thought she would either faint or have a heart attack. With a wealth of effort, she reached out and grabbed her night-stand, trying to pull herself free. Mio responded by subconsciously squeezing harder and pulling Ritsu back down. "…Issu…"
Oh, that does it! I can only be so lovey-dovey when my chest is in a vise-hold! Cold, sticky sweat masked Ritsu's flushed face as she grabbed a stick off her night-stand. She lightly whacked Mio's head with the butt end of it. Grunting in alarm, the bassist released Ritsu's breast and sat up. She rubbed the side of her head and blinked grumpily.
"Why did you wake me up like that?"
"Because you were squeezing my boob like a stress ball, hentai!"
Mio considered her left hand, gurgling in horror, before she snapped, "Don't make up lies, Ricchan!"
"I'm not!" Ritsu gingerly fingered her breast. Even though it was no longer caught in a clamp that may as well have been a bear trap, it still felt tender. Breathing stung her chest. "I probably have a hand-shaped bruise on it! I'm gonna have to go find a trauma counselor!"
Mio stared at Ritsu, watching her small shoulders shudder as she struggled to breathe. She wouldn't sound so serious if she was kidding around. Humming sympathetically, the noir-haired girl inched closer and wrapped her arms around Ritsu. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, resting her cheek upon her girlfriend's musteleine hair. "I didn't mean to, believe me. Anything I can do to make it up to you?"
Mio could hear Ritsu grinning. "Kiss it and make it better?"
THOCK!
Ritsu's shoulders crunched up to her neck as a princely goose egg raised itself upon her crown. "What a way to treat someone who loves you…"
"It hurt me more than it hurt you." Mio shook out her hand, then considered her uniform. "Can't believe I slept in this. I'll have to bring it to the drycleaners." She swung her legs over the edge of Ritsu's bed. "I wish I had a change of clothes."
The drummer knocked a foot against the bedframe. "There's a sweater and some lounge pants you left behind a while back."
The raven-haired girl stuck a hand under the bed, pawing fruitlessly about, until she felt something soft with a fabric texture. Her slate eyes gleaming with satisfaction, Mio withdrew her hand which clutched…
…a pair of white panties with a lily decoration.
"HYAAACKK!" Mio choked, a virtual shadow falling over her saucer-like eyes. Horrified, she threw the panties randomly across the room.
Her face tomato-red, Ritsu seized her girlfriend by her shoulders and shook her. "Is there no end to your pervertedness, Mio?" She added as an afterthought, "Though I've been wondering where those went…"
Mio's left hand fluttered helplessly. She gripped her wrist, moaning, "Pantsu…pantsu…p-p-pantsu…"
Beguiled by this morning's turn of events and the ghastly look on her best friend's face, Ritsu began to convulse with laughter. Her head grew light from her amusement. Soon, she was exhausted again. Here they were, not twelve hours into their relationship, and they were arguing already. It was either the best relationship ever or the most bizarre one. Or both.
"Here," she giggled, getting down on the floor. "Lemme find them for you." The drummer reached under her bed and within mere moments retrieved a pair of black yoga pants and a fuchsia sweater that said 'Kuma Kyoku Girl.'
Mio ceased rocking back and forth in her funk. "That's mine? I thought that was yours."
Ritsu studied it dubiously, an eyebrow raised. "It's too big to be mine." She laughed. "This must have been left behind a long time ago. Go on, put it on."
The bassist accepted it hesitantly. Then, turning away slightly, she unhooked the buttons on her blazer. Ritsu tried not to stare, but it was hard not to notice Mio's curvaceous form. She used to feel the sting of jealous longing whenever she saw the coal-haired girl's breasts. Now she felt a different kind of longing. Mio's supple breasts were cradled in a simple white bra, but it drove Ritsu crazy. Her breathing came fast and deep, her chest cavity expanding to take in more air. Her thighs burned, and what she had between her thighs burned as well.
Oblivious, Mio reached for the sweater. She glanced at Ritsu. The drummer had her head bent, her cadmium-stained fingers pinching her nostrils shut.
Her dander raised with outrage and violation, Mio pressed an arm over her bra and raised the other to deck her girlfriend again. "Who's the pervert now, ecchi!"
"I'be sorry! I cad't helb id!"
"I oughta..." What? Knock her block off without a shirt on? She'd probably like that. Mio swiftly pulled the pink sweater over her head, hauling her cascading long jet locks out of the collar. From the corner of her eye she saw Ritsu raise her face from her hands and snort experimentally.
"Hahh, it stopped," she sighed, her voice still a bit congested. She gagged as a backflow of bloody mucus slid down her throat.
"Ecchi," Mio muttered.
"Look, I didn't mean to betray your modesty," Ritsu apologized. "It can be payback for your crushing my delicates. Now we're even."
They affectionately teased one another as they headed downstairs, calling each other 'ecchi' and 'hentai.' At the base of the stairs they found Ritsu's blazer, neatly folded, with her headband placed on top. Stooping, Mio picked up the headband and stared at it reflectively. Last night the drummer had placed herself in a vulnerable position by throwing it away - Mio knew it represented a sort of security to Ritsu - and coming out, telling the whole truth, to boot. The bassist knew raw fear in and out, but she couldn't imagine throwing herself into something so dreadful. To Mio it would be the equivalent of going back to Mrs. Abe's class, stark naked, to write right-handed (she used to have nightmares about that in primary school).
"Ricchan," she spoke, standing back up. "Why did you take this off?" She added with a soft smile, "If you didn't know at the time how cute you look without it."
For a moment Ritsu was staggered by the flirtation, her blushing face making Mio giggle. Then, a bit embarrassed, she took the headband and placed it in her hair. "I-it was giving me a headache." Man, why'm I stuttering? Mio used to stutter! Attempting to recover from her awkwardness, she grinned, "Basically that headband was doing to my head what your hand was doing to my breast."
"Oi, can we let that go?" Mio protested, her face crimson. "I said I was sorry and I'd never do it again!" When Ritsu kept laughing, the bassist gruffly turned her around and pushed her toward the kitchen. "Can we just move on?"
"Ohh, I thought you'd never ask," the drummer chuckled. She led her girlfriend into the familiar kitchen with its applewood counters, granite countertops, and the stainless steel microwave which would never fit in with its sister appliances. Fresh coffee had been made. Satoshi was having a cup with his eggs and toast. Mr. Tainaka was in the next room, drinking coffee and reading the paper. Ritsu glanced at Mio, wondering, Am I the receptive one in this relationship?
It wasn't that she wanted to put Mio down or anything, but come on. It's not like me to submit to someone else's will. Ritsu never did stuff like that. Why start now? Besides, real relationships weren't about dominance and submission. Relationships in manga were, particularly with yaoi, with the...the...something and the uke. I can't be the uke, the drummer thought, shaking her head. The seme is always cool. The uke is either a wuss or a spazz.
"Ohayo, neechan," Satoshi mumbled, alerting Mr. Tainaka to his daughter's presence. He set down his newspaper and leaned forward in his chair.
"Ohayo, bozu," Ritsu greeted. Satoshi whined as she seized him in a brief headlock. "How was Paranormal Activity? Totally awesomesauce?"
"Not really," he frowned. "It just seemed...I dunno, kinda fake."
"Pssh," she snorted, pulling his hair. "You thought 500 Days of Summer - a lameass chick-flick - was great." She grinned and placed a hand on her cheek. "Ohoho! What would the girls in your class say if they knew you loved 500 Days of Summer?"
"Hey, c'mon! 500 Days of Summer was the perfect mix of funny and sad!"
"More like the perfect mix of lame and stupid!"
"Me, I just thought Paranormal Activity was too scary..." Mio mumbled.
Mr. Tainaka leaned his face in his hand, his palm over his mouth, as though restraining himself from speaking. Last night's confrontation with Tokudaiji weighed heavily on his mind. Even though the scrawny little wretch would have deserved it - and part of Mr. Tainaka still believed he deserved a serious licking - the old man regretted coming at him like that. This would have negative consequences for Ritsu. If Tokudaiji wasn't being a total asshole to her before, he would be now.
Mrs. Tainaka had studied philosophy during their agonizing college separation. Though her Bachelor's degree served no practical purpose, she had still formed her own ideologies. One that Mr. Tainaka remembered now was: True strength comes from restraint. To fight someone shows how easy it is to tear you down to that level.
Am I weak? he wondered.
He watched Ritsu and Mio talk and laugh. They're good friends, he thought with certainty. Tokudaiji-san has it all wrong. Mr. Tainaka came from a generation that had fallen head over heels for Star Trek. There was the fanbase; and then there were the Trekkies, fanboys, and fangirls that fervently believed that Spock and Kirk were a real couple. Tokudaiji may have just been a guy who saw things in tints of yuri. Either way, he's full of shit.
Originally Mr. Tainaka had planned to talk to Ritsu about Tokudaiji. Now he thought that could wait.
Wind blasted through Tsumugi's ears, her aurum hair rippling behind her, as she dashed through the fine arts wing of Sakura High School early Monday morning. She knew running had made her look a bit disheveled, but it had been a long weekend without Sawako. That alone had set some embers sparkling. Then Holt, her father, casually mentioned something extremely significant over breakfast and that kindled the blaze full-throttle. Mugi felt guilty about leaving Holt alone in such a rush. So she made sure to not only kiss him good-bye but hug him, too. She caught the earlier train to the next town, bounced about the car eagerly, then ran all the way to Sakura. I should join the cross country team, she thought absently. In total she had probably run twelve miles, and she hadn't broken a sweat or anything.
This early in the day I can probably find Sawa-chan in the fine arts office. It was an hour till the first period bell rang. The only people here were staff members and Madrigal Choir and Wind Symphony students.
Mugi frantically grabbed the corner to help her round it. In doing so she nearly floored her passing psychology teacher.
"Sumimasen, Toku-sensei!" she cried, bowing rapidly before continuing on her way. She glanced at him over her shoulder. Unbelievable. But Father never lies.
"Sawako!" she gasped, exploding into the office.
The sensei looked up in alarm, then smiled once she saw it was just Mugi. It wasn't even first hour, yet it was already amounting to a stressful day. Lots of tests to grade, projects to look over, the usual paperwork every department chair had to submit on Monday, the simple fact that it was Monday, Noriko, Tokudaiji, blah blah blah.
Mugi was in a state. Her hair was a little messy. A shirt-tail peeped out from under her blazer.
"I've got two words for you," she panted, holding up her hands expressively. "Tokudaiji conglomerate."
Sawako blinked and her eyes hooded in annoyance. She hadn't had her coffee yet. It was a miserable morning, and now her girlfriend had rolled in to tell her that her worst enemy was as rich as she was. Reapplying herself to her work, she grumbled, "I got two words for you, too."
"I'm serious." The keyboardist self-consciously ran her fingers through her crisp hair. Clearing her throat, she gestured at a chair next to Sawako's desk. "May I...?"
The sensei nodded, smiling. Even in a tizzy Mugi could still remember her manners.
"Arigatougozaimasu." Whilst the ojou seated herself Sawako implored, "Please, don't be so formal." She extended a soft hand to gently tip Mugi's chin up. Her brown eyes locked with Mugi's blue ones. "I think we're a bit closer than that, don't you?"
Mugi's hooded eyes swam and her cheeks pinkened. "S-Sawa-chan..."
The teacher giggled, feeling the heat in her girlfriend's face. "Why, don't get all coy with me, Miss Tsumugi. 'Specially since you were practically in my lap Friday night...or, technically, it was Saturday morning."
So lost in amorous estrus was Mugi that she nearly forgot that was her first kiss. I have no idea where that boldness came from either, she wanted to say, but her throat felt paralyzed in her neck. She didn't just have butterflies in her stomach. Every organ in her body churned and fluttered and tickled with a million butterflies.
Sawako whispered something, but her words were forgotten once she kissed Mugi full on the mouth. Thankful that no one else was in the fine arts office, the keyboardist hummed softly. She tilted her head, opening her mouth a little, intensifying the kiss. A Kotobuki had a high body temperature; in that light, one had a high sexual temperature as well. Mugi could feel hers rising, the extra blood pounding in her head among other places. She reached for Sawako, sliding her sweaty hands along her arms up to her shoulders, gently pushing her back in her chair. Laughing, the brunette broke the smooch.
"You really like to kiss," she chuckled. "You're quite the firecracker."
Mugi felt like one, sparking and vibrating and wanting to explode. Her mouth still hung open, and somehow words came out. "I...never...kissed..."
"I never woulda guessed," Sawako laughed, touching a fire-hot cheek with the tips of her fingers. "I've done the girl thing a couple times in college. I had a rebellious streak as a freshman. Going against society meant going down on a girl."
That mental image seared Mugi's vital areas like a hot coal and she tossed it away quickly.
Sawako now laid her palm flat on the ojou's face, caressing it. "It didn't mean as much as this does right now. And none of those girls could kiss half as good as you can."
"O-oh, gosh...! I don't think I..."
"Didn't you have something you wanted to tell me?" Sawako impetuously withdrew and began frantically scribbling on a legal pad. The gesture stung Mugi until she saw a culinary teacher stroll over to his desk.
"U-um, well...My father's affiliated with an executive of this electronics company. Tokudaiji Eishun." She glanced at the culinary teacher, wondering if she should discuss the psych teacher. He didn't seem to notice. "Eishun-jiichan is a close family friend. I've known him for as long as I can remember. And his son, according to my father, teaches psychology here."
Sawako looked up from her scribbles. "That ogre Tokudaiji-san is a wakka?"
Mugi nodded. "Apparently."
The sensei set down her pen and tapped her chin thoughtfully. "He's past old enough to receive his inheiretance. Why's he teaching?"
The ojou shrugged. "Maybe he likes it. I'm...in the same caste as his family, and I certainly wouldn't mind teaching."
"Well, you're Mugi-chan," Sawako smirked, tapping the tip of Mugi's nose. "There's not much you would mind. But Tokudaiji-san doesn't seem to like kids or teaching in general." She pressed her fingers together and nestled her chin between her thumbs and index fingers. "Is he not allowed to work in his family's business...?"
"That would be a terrible disgrace," Mugi sighed. "I would hate to think of what he could've done to get expelled from the conglomerate...If he got expelled from the conglomerate."
"Me, I wanna delve deeper into this." The teacher grinned wickedly and her eyes shone behind her glasses. She snatched a post-it and urgently scrawled something. She was growling an oath to herself. Her crazed voice gained volume until it was a roar. "Blackmail me, will ya, Tokudaiji-san? Well, now I got somethin' on ya. Two can play at this game!" She stood suddenly, throwing her chair back, and held the post-it of destiny high above her head. "This is the post-it that will pierce the heavens! I, Yamanaka Sawako, do solemnly declare my revenge on Tokudaiji-san! THIS IS WAR!" Using the ball of her hand, she slammed the post-it on her desk. Completely winded, she stood shuddering and panting. Her hair was frizzy, her face red, her eyes wild.
"Yamanaka-san...?"
Sawako shakily turned her head to see the culinary teacher staring wide-eyed at her. He had been writing something down. Now his pen slipped out of his trembling hand.
The department chair's fervor drained out of her, replaced by embarrassment and self-awareness. She straightened her posture and tried to fix her hair. She couldn't help it. She had been so overwhelmed with worry about Tokudaiji ratting her out. Now her girlfriend had just handed her the bastard's head on a plate. Sawako turned to look at Mugi; the keyboardist stared at her with saucer eyes.
"Sawa-chan...? Is everything...okay?"
Sighing, the teacher retrieved her chair and set it so it faced Mugi's. "It's like this..."
Azusa yelped, nearly falling down the tall flight of stairs in her house. She was trying to button her blazer and run down them at the same time. She burst into the kitchen. Her mother was so startled by her impetuous and forceful arrival that she nearly dropped her plate-load of French toast.
"Good morning," Mrs. Nakano greeted humorously, watching her petite daughter flurry about the kitchen.
"Good morning," Azusa returned breathlessly. She threw back a glass of orange juice. Filling a thermos with coffee, she exhaled quickly, "I'm sorry, but I can't stay for breakfast. I agreed to meet someone on the way to school."
"What'll you eat, then?" Mr. Nakano asked.
Azusa helped herself to a piece of toast. "This'll do." She stuffed it between her teeth and dashed toward the door, shouting, " 'Oodfye!"
"Bye," Mrs. Nakano said faintly, but the door had already slammed shut. She moved automatically to the table, set down the plate of French toast, and seated herself across from her husband.
"She's eager to get to school," he commented.
"No, Hikaru," she sighed in exasperation. "She's eager to meet with whomever she's going to meet with."
The front door exploded open and Azusa scurried in. "I f'got somefin'!" she exclaimed around a mouthful of toast. She bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Moments later she reappeared with her gig bag strapped around her. "Thee you affer 'chool!" She threw her hand out in a brief wave before leaving.
Mrs. Nakano winked at her husband. "Azusa's got herself a boyfriend."
Mr. Nakano almost choked on his toast.
Jun gave a dry smile at Ui's dour expression. She knew the ponytailed girl's hopes had fallen hard over the weekend. Late Friday night found the two of them returning to the Hirasawa residence, Ui hoping against hope that Yui and Azusa hadn't become an official couple. Though it was obvious they had the next day. Azusa hadn't wanted to talk about it, but Yui was too enthusiastically affectionate to be kept quiet. Oblivious to Ui's bitter visage, she had exclaimed, "Azu-nyan says she wants to go out with me!"
"N-not 'go out' as in...um..." Azusa had stammered. She positively glowed with hers and Yui's newfound love, the tenderness swimming in her garnet eyes, but she had wanted to be cautious at first. Now she walked ahead of Ui and Jun, laughing with her girlfriend, the two of them holding hands, unaware of Ui's dagger eyes.
Jun sighed. Ui had shown a lot of restraint over the weekend, the trip to Harajuku notwithstanding. Despite Jun's assurances, the ponytailed girl was still troubled by this. She had wanted to rant, complain, whine, bitch and moan. But she hadn't. And it's probably because of what I said in Harajuku. Figuring that a friend in need was a friend indeed, Jun queried, "Something wrong, Ui-chan?"
Ui's face softened to a more vulnerable expression as she looked at Jun. "What do you think oneechan sees in Azusa-chan?"
The darker-haired girl fell silent, turning her eyes forward to the couple in question. Azusa was leaning in to Yui, laughing at something she said. Then Yui added something as an afterthought and the noir-haired kouhai looked up indignantly, her cheeks pink.
"Do you suppose it's the pigtails?" Ui sulked. "'Cause I could look cute with pigtails, too."
"If you say so, Kokoro-chan," Jun snickered.
"I'm not like Kokoro!" Ui protested.
"And good thing you're not. The last thing I need right now is for my two best friends to get involved in a murder-suicide." Jun was quiet a moment, chewing the inside of her cheek pensively. Then she suggested, "Maybe she loves Azusa-chan's ambition and strong sense of self."
"Ambition, huh, more like tenacity," Ui snorted. But she had to agree; those were plausible reasons for her older sister to fall in love with someone. You never know unless you find out, though. "Oneechan!"
Yui and Azusa halted, turned, and waited for Ui and Jun to catch up.
Ui wore her supportive little sister smile as she inquired, "What do you love the most about Azusa-chan?"
"Ui!" Azusa yelled, blushing.
The ponytailed girl's smile broadened at the sloe-haired girl's outrage.
Nonplussed, Yui responded blithely, "Azu-nyan's super-cute! Isn't she?"
"Arahh! Let go of my face! W-we're not in private..."
Figures it wouldn't have anything to do with her character, Jun thought humorously.
Cute. That made Ui a little sick. If being cute's all it takes to win oneechan's heart, why haven't I won it? Am I not cute? Misery of the likes she had never experienced consumed Ui on the way to school - misery that was so potently horrible it caused virtual thunderclouds to form over her head. Rather than bash herself for not being cute, Ui thought it more productive (or more fun, at least) to try to burn a hole into the back of Azusa's cute head with her not-so-cute eyes.
When they arrived at Sakura High School students were milling about the courtyard. There were ten minutes left till first period began. Yui's first hour class was sociology, but she escourted Azusa to the math wing, where her geometry class was - also, Ui presumed, a private place to kiss good-bye. She shuddered and turned away, leaning against the wall.
Jun smiled gently. "Take it easy. You'll find someone." She placed a delicate hand upon Ui's shoulder, hoping that would be enough to placate her.
"I want oneechan," Ui whined.
Jun withdrew her hand and said honestly, "It's probably nothing against you personally. Yui-chan probably just doesn't go for the whole sister thing." With that she bade Ui good-bye and headed off to Spanish class.
Ui squeezed her full brown eyes shut and let the tears fall. They spilled copiously down her cheeks and dripped from her quivering chin. She cried silently, knowing that a less considerate person than Jun would try to make her feel better.