Under the Heavens: Part Three

By Mirrordance

The answer came to me when I got home.

Nothing.

I could say nothing.

Omi was dancing around the house with an address (gloating), and Ken was laughing, embarrassed again. Yoji was watching from a polite distance, a grin on his face as he smoked a cigarette.

I could say nothing...

...until Ken came up to me and said, "Omi's found her, Ran! I could come by her house tomorrow, it's not that far at all! You think Manx knew? You think--"

"Quit it," I snapped, not able to help myself. Better the hopes in his eyes die in front of me now, than for his devastation to come out in front of her tomorrow.

Omi froze, as did Yoji. Ken was just plain stunned.

"I don't get it," he said flatly.

"I'm telling you, don't bother," I say to him in the same neutral voice, though there remained this unreasonable vile taste of guilt in my mouth.

"Why?" he asked quietly.

"She's engaged to someone else," I tell him, flat-out, without the explanations I knew he wanted to hear.

He stared at me. I thought I was the one who was good at outstaring people, but there was something in his eyes, that defeated me this time around. I looked away.

"I don't have to win her back," he said determinedly, "I just want to see her again"

"Do what you want," I tell him, trying to keep bland. But personally, I think he's deliberately being a glutton for punishment.


Come breakfast, I was more than a little surprised to find that I was the last one up, especially since the sun had barely risen over the horizon.

The three of them had gone fishing by the lake, as the note on the refrigerator said. It irked me that I hadn't been invited, but it's not as if I could blame them. Maybe I really was poor company, or maybe I had just gotten up late.

By the time they returned, they had no fish with them, and were pathetically soaked, laughing. I could see them walk towards the house from the bay window, but I felt as if I was the one outside, looking in on them.

They already had a plan.

Ken, with renewed spirits, picked up the phone and dialed Yuriko's number; and though I pretended disinterest, I listened to his end of the conversation.

"Um...hey! Good morning!...You can't tell? It's me, Ken Hidaka...I know, I know. Surprised, huh?..."

Then Ken just blinked, and looked at the three of us.

"She hung up on me," he said. "Maybe she was angrier than we thought"

Yoji rolled back his eyes. The Inexperienced, I could almost hear him think from the look on his face. "Of course she's angry, Ken! She paid for your ticket and you stood her up! Call her again, hurry! The more time you lose, the worse it gets!"

"Okay, okay!" he said with a nervous laugh as he redialed. "Please don't hang up!" was the first thing he said to her this time around, and the conversation lengthened.

Yoji snorted. "Well, the pleading angle works too"

They were going out for lunch. One of those 'for old time's sake' thing, no strings attached. Yuriko made it clear she was no longer interested unless it was for friendship, and Ken, knowing it was non-negotiable (at least for the time being), agreed.

Yoji might disapprove, but Ken held his own too. After all, he did weasel his way out of Yuriko's suggestion that they each bring friends along, just to be really, really clear.

Undaunted and still excited, Ken rushed up to his room and started looking for clothes suitable to the occasion, and ended up with dark slacks and a crisp white shirt, reminding me of the goddamn yuppie. But it fit him well; most anything did. Unconsciously, Ken had just started a choosing game, with Yuriko as the inevitable judge.

Ken and Yuriko were to meet at this coffee shop downtown. We weren't going to let him drive, so the three of us went and piled in the car with him. We would drop him off, and loiter around the place like good tourists and wait for his call for a pick-up.

The plan was set.

That is, until he gasped again and hunched, clutching his stomach.

This time, it wasn't his pain that ripped at me, it was the anguish in his face.

"God does NOT want us to be together," he said with a laugh, then gasped again at the pain it caused. Yoji pulled over the car for awhile and asked him what he wanted to do.

Yoji had the wheel, with Omi in front. Ken and I were in the backseat, leaving me to hover and not know what the hell it was I was supposed to do.

His hands shakily unclenched and dug for something in his pocket. It was a small, plastic container of painkillers. He shoved some of the pills into his mouth, then closed his eyes and breathed, letting it sink in. He had broken into a cold sweat, and looked as if he were in shock.

"Better?" Omi asked.

He nodded, then muttered, "But not good enough. Damn!" he banged his head lightly against the window. "She is going to hate me more this time" He sighed, opened his weary eyes and looked at me. I could tell he was trying hard not to cry; helplessness was a devastating feeling. Then they lit up.

I wasn't going to like this.

"Would you go?"

I felt my jaw drop in this embarrassing 'O.'

"In my place," he said, "just tell her something came up, show her a good time"

Me? Show anyone a good time? What the hell got into his head? I glanced at his bottle of pills. Morphine derivatives.

"Ken, you're high" I tell him flatly.

"I know, I know," he said with a chuckle, "girls don't like that, so would you go in my place?"

"No," I said slowly, "I meant that--"

"I'm high because I'm asking you?" he said, "Nah. It's a pretty logical decision. See, she won't be 'safe' with Yoji, and Omi won't be 'safe' with her. You're a grouch, but you're 'safe' and she's 'safe' too"

Did this really make sense? Or was I just swayed by the quiet, endearing pleas in his eyes?

"Ran, just go," Yoji said.

"Yeah," Ken added, "A favor for a dying friend?"

Would it hurt him anymore if I stabbed him with my katana for being such an asshole?

"Fine," I snapped, getting out of the car. "Take the invalid home. I'll walk the rest of the way. When I call, I want you here in less than ten minutes. If she decides she never wants to see you again after this, don't blame me"

"You're not that bad," Yoji said with a wink.

I shut the door at their leering faces.

From the outside, I could hear them talking as they got ready to drive away.

"Morphine derivatives, Ken?" Omi asked.

"Yeah"

"No wonder you're always so happy," that was Yoji, bastard.

But Ken laughed. It almost made me smile. If we can still joke about things like that, then everything was still all right, somehow.

I started walking towards the coffee shop. As I did, I couldn't help but glance at my reflection on the glass that I passed by. Hair's okay (at least, it looks like it always does), but my jeans were an old, scruffy pair of faded black denim, almost as battered as the pair of blue Keds I had along. I also had an old, lavander sweater on. She might think I didn't think she was important enough to dress up for! Did I look okay?

Then I caught myself.

Who cares? I know I don't.


She picked up a chair outside, by the sidewalk.

Yuriko was like a beacon; she just gleamed somehow an immediately caught my eye. Fortunately for the vain part of me, she was wearing nothing fancy at all; just a hodded white sweatshirt and khaki shorts, and shoes that looked almost exactly like mine. Her hair was up in a frillless ponytail, and she wore no jewelry save for the goddamn ring. It was the best way for Ken to notice it.

The diabolical, female mind.

She was looking around and trying to hide it, then glancing at her watch. No matter what she says, there's still got to be some kind of feeling left in there.

I stopped by her table, and she looked up at me first with confusion, then surprise, then a smile spread across her face.

"Oh, Mr. Funny Name" she greeted.

She knows how to make a guy feel welcome, did I ever mention that?

I nodded instead of saying anything and gave her a hesitant smile. "I come bearing a message"

She sighed in exasperation. "Don't bother, Ran. I know the rest," she mimicked the pick-up-line in an exaggeratedly masculine voice, "I come bearing a message. God said, you're the one for me"

I smothered a smile. "No, not that message"

She blinked at me. Then groaned. "Sorry, sorry. After awhile, you just get tired of stuff like that. Oh, shit. Something tells me this is going to be so embarrassing"

You'll forget embarrassment, later. I promise. It's going to be replaced by some kind of anger, lady.

So I told her. "Ken sent me because something came up"

I suddenly saw how lowly she thought of me, by my association with the innocent Hidaka.

"Oh?" she said coldly, "then I guess I'd better go now"

I grabbed her hand before she walked away, surprising both of us. I let her go, slowly. "No. Not like this."

She looked away from me, and I could see her counting her breaths. "Damn him to hell!"

No, I wouldn't say that if I were you...

"Please sit," I tell her, and she hesitantly does so. I take the chair across from hers. She looked so profoundly miserable at the prospect of spending the day with me, that I was obliged to say something.

"We'll have a nice time, I promise," I said it before thinking. It sounded so stupid.

She laughed. Did I sound so pathetically desperate?

"Okay," she said, "we can do that"

We asked for menus, and were at the verge of ordering already when I realized I hadn't brought my wallet with me.

She was looking at me expectantly; the proper way was for the man to call the waiter and dictate the orders.

Damn it all.

I stood up and grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet.

"What?" she asked with a surprised laugh.

"Let's not eat," I tell her, trying to sound sure of myself. I didn't want her to have to pay for company she didn't even want in the first place. Damn. Is there anything at all that you could do without money nowadays?

She looked at me, knowing and amused. But said nothing to humiliate me more.

"Okay," she agreed, "what do you want to do?"

"I'm the tourist," I told her, "so I don't know anything"

She looked around, and finally said something about our situation because she just couldn't resist.

"Hm," she said with a grin, "no car either, eh?"

I snorted at her.

She tugged at my arm. "Come on. We'll go to the park. I can treat you to an ice cream cone. Don't worry...it's cheap"


So I let her treat to me ice cream. I love ice cream. It's one of those silly things I find hard to resist. We ate as we walked, and walked, not really headed towards anywhere. I was starting to realize that nothing was really too far around here. From the places we passed, I knew we were just a few minutes from home.

"I walked from my house," she said, "it's nice, walking around here"

I had to agree. Tree-lined dirtroads with fields and forests on the sides.

Just then, the wind picked up noticeably and she froze.

"What?"

"No cause for alarm," she said quickly, making me just the opposite. She was rapidly scanning the area. "You want to be a dustball?"

What the hell was she talking about?

"Nevermind," she said, grabbing my arm as she started running. "I know a shelter around here. Don't worry, it's no big deal"

She led the way to a tool shed amidst the forest on one side of the road we had just been on. Not so big, and not so sturdy looking, but from the way the wind had felt just before we closed the door, it was better than nothing.

"What was that?" I asked her, catching my breath a little.

"Dust storm," she replied, and the shed was starting to shake a little, with wind. "After getting stuck in the middle of one, you kind of get to smell it before it comes"

"You got stuck in the middle of one?" I asked.

"Yeah," she replied with a laugh, "not a very big one, fortunately. But I could taste dust in my mouth for days afterwards. We'll be safe here. Any shade is fine. Especially amidst trees. Protects from some of the wind"

We sat on the ground, and waited out the storm.

"It's funny, isn't it?" she asked, "a storm made of dust"

I suppose it was.

"That's 'cos there's desert nearby too," she explained, "we have a lot of weird weather here."

I could tell.

"Why are you so quiet all of a sudden?" she asked.

I shrugged at her.

This is how I always am. I get weird weather in my head too. I just run out of things to say, most of the time.

"So how did you know Ken?" she asked, and his name seemed to make her frown again.

See, this is what happened. I was kind of going to kill this guy, then three hired assassins came out of nowhere--

"We work in the same place," I answered.

"The flower shop," she said certainly, "he knows a lot about flowers"

"Yes," I confirmed.

"You just love talking about yourself, don't you?" she teased.

You could say that.

"So when you helped me out the other night," she asked, "Did you do it because you knew I was Ken's friend?"

"No," I lied.

"So you're just a good samaritan, right?"

As in the Biblical guy whop helped out a man who was part of a rival nation when no one else will? That's a weird way of looking at it.

But "Yeah," I said.

She looked at the wind-shook shed. "Well. This is particularly long," she looked at me and smiled tentatively, "I guess there are worse things to spending the day in an enclosed space with a good-looking good samaritan"

There were worse things to spending the day with a beautiful, witty woman too.

"I'm sorry Ken had to make you put up with this," she said, "he makes me so mad. He always stands me up"

"There are always reasons," I tell her.

"Oh?" she asked skeptically.

"Yes," I said.

She shrugged. "I suppose. I always felt as if he was holding something back, you know? This weird little something. I left Japan with hopes that he would join me. Indstead I left alone, with a wildflower stuck in my organizer. It endeared me for awhile. It's just like him. Then I just got angry with time"

"Why?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Maybe I didn't hate him," she said with a self-conscious laugh, "I think maybe I hated me. Because he could just let me down and I could still care for him. I hated him for that, because I was so helpless. It was so unfair. I'm such an idiot. Just when I'm finally moving along with the rest of my life, the phone rings and it's his voice, asking me if I wanted to have lunch.

"And I say yes," she said softly, "and he's gone again"

He'll be gone even more, Yuriko.

"Why's he here?" she asks me, and I knew then that I would not be able to lie, looking into her eyes.

"He wants to take you back," I tell her.

She raises up her ringed hand. "You know that's not possible"

"Isn't it?" I retort. That was hypocricy, after all that I've heard her say.

She waves the issue away. "Why now?"

"Because..."

"Why?"

"He's dying and he never forgot you" I said in a breath. There. Finished.

Silence.

Then she laughs. Nervously, in my ears. "Oh, that's low, Ran. That's really low"

I laugh too, mirthlessly. "Yeah, it is"

Yeah, why not? Let the two of us walk around in our own dream worlds. But I think she knew I was telling the truth.