Hotei no Yume
AN: heh heh. Lets see how this next chapter goes.
I had this dream once, it was different from any kind I had ever had before. The feelings it emoted, and the places I had found myself in. I can still remember each part vividly, as though it was a movie and anytime I wished I could sit down at watch it play in my head. It is one of my few comforts in life, this dream. It had been the night of the full moon, but it was early summer and large clouds had drifted across the sky, their edges tinted in silver as though the goddess of the moon was strumming them like a harp. Each cloud a separate note on its own. The clouds had floated on forever, and the horizon stood out prominently. Dawn was still a long way off. I had awoken hot and sweaty, and strangely enough my cheeks had been wet with tears. I had quickly whipped them away, fearing that the walls had eyes. The dream repeated its self over and over again in my head as I had sat in my bed, gazing up at the night.
The clouds of spring, the ones, which come after a rainstorm—they are the first things I see. Their bottoms are gray and serene looking. They quietly glide above my head, one after another after another. Never ending. A cool wind has picked up from the sea. It is refreshing, and a tingle goes down my spine…I look around. What a strange neighborhood I have found myself in. I cover my eyes momentarily. The sun is not bright—but it is as though I want to protect myself from the newness that surrounds my frame. I grip the bar of a steel railing, which overlooks the city down below. Steep stairs descend this hill, bits of moss growing in their cracks. Everything is more vibrant. More profound. The houses which surround me are European in design, as though from the early nineteen hundreds to the nineteen thirties. The colors are that of Italy and France: yellows, and gold's, with warm pumpkin reds and cool blues which must have shone like the unseen Mediterranean. A grove of pine trees is next to one house, the color is like that of dark blackness that seeps into the wall. Each needle I can see, standing out as though on command.
I hear a laugh and turn around to face the view of the cloud streaked sky and bellow the sunlit town. A figure is walking up the stairs—it is lean and it moves with fluid but calculated movements. I pear closer. And then, I feel it. The warmness that surrounds my body. I look down to see two small hands wrapping themselves around my frame. I know these hands. I know them very well. I can feel her head leaning against me, and when the wind blows her honey colored hair shines like gold. She is whispering something to me that I cannot quite hear. And then…it stops. It ends. I woke up.
Kyou gazed at Tohru quietly from across the old worn oak table. Her eyes are downcast and she is studying Kyou's hand that still lays atop of hers. She does not move her own, but instead lifts her eyes to look at Kyou. He cannot say anything, and he fears to act. All his strength in battle quickly washes out of him as though he were a hallow pipe in which the rain runs through. Her eyes dance, and she says sweetly, "Kyou-kun has a very big hand."
I take my free hand and raise it as I murmur, "I don't think so. You have small hands."
She lifts her own and places it flat against mine. Her hands are small, but not grotesquely so. They are not a child's hand; they are one of a woman. I notice a small cut on her thumb that has now healed. Besides that small blemish they are flawless. I grin as I reply, "See, you do have small hands."
Tohru laughs gently and sips her cocoa once again. Perhaps she too is afraid. Perhaps I should go and make up some excuse. Any excuse. I do not know what do. I feel like an infant reliant on its mother for all the needs. I am weak without her. Just a mass of flesh.
"Ah! I know!" Tohru suddenly chirps her eyes bright and shinning. Her countenance is so bright and airy—like the cloud-streaked sky of Kyou's dream. She blurs the grayness that sweeps around them all. Kyou glances up warily, his expression tired, but interested.
"I just bought a watermelon, why don't we have some?" She claps her hands together waiting for Kyou's response. He blinks, his face rather surprised, "Watermelon and cocoa?"
"Do you think it will upset your stomach, Kyou-kun?" Her voice is worried, and concerned, "I do not want to do that."
"Oh! No, it's not that." Kyou found himself chuckling. When the hell had he stared to chuckle? "I just find it a strange combination." He gets up, and flexes his shoulders as he stretches the muscle tissue out. "I'll cut it, if you want."
She nods, the continual smile gone. The serious conversation now in her eyes only a memory. In Kyou's however it is a continual reality. He questions her motives silently to himself. Cannot she find her own happiness? She was not destined to find everyone else's. Kyou shakes his head, a grin tugging on his lips. He takes out a large knife from a drawer and begins to sharpen it. The sound disturbs the quietness of the kitchen, but only for a short while. The gentle grating of stone against metal sends a shiver of excitement to go down Kyou's spine. The watermelon sits near the sink, it is perfectly round, speckled in varying shades of greens and yellow. The strong fragrence of it still resonates about it. He picks it up, admiring its hefty wait. One stroke. He wants it to be clear, and concise. Clean. Orderly. He lifts his hand high above his head, and in a blink of an eye sends it slicing down through the air. One can still hear the echoing of the tender flesh as it cracks open.
He can hear Tohru's breathe caught in her throat. He quickly slices it into smaller pieces, and places them on a cobalt blue plate.
"Here…" He mumbles as he hands one to her. She takes one, slowly. Her eyes have a worried shine in them, as she says seriously, "I wish Kyou-kun would not have done that."
Kyou blinks as he raises his head, questioning. Done what? What the hell had he done wrong?
"What?" he questions hurriedly. His voice is strained, yet controlled.
She looks at him, her small mouth moving ever so slightly as she savors the sweet flavor of the watermelon juice. "I wish you would not cut the watermelon like that. What if you had gotten hurt? What if you had cut yourself? I never would like Kyou-kun to get hurt because of me."
So, she was worried. He ate his watermelon in silence for a moment, noticing that it was the seedless variety. It had grown a bit darker in the room as the sun had sunk lower on the horizon.
"I wonder where Yuki-kun and the others are…?" Tohru breathes nervously, glancing out the window. "I hope they have not gotten delayed."
Kyou spat to himself inside his head. Knowing Akito, probably. He would do anything to get his precious mouse back. Anything. The little rodent should be grateful that the family accepted him. It still irked him that the mouse had been accepted anyways. If one thought about, what good was a mouse anyways? After all, mice ate the food in ones house. They gorged, and destroyed everything with just a nibble. One touch, and it shattered.
"They'll be home." Kyou said reassuringly, even though inside he was boiling. Why was it always the mouse? All the sympathy was given to him. The two ate in silence—not the quiet, gentle, comfortable silence. No, it was the tense moody kind, like a blanket of fog that surrounded a person and chocked them. It held them close, so desperately close.
Tohru quietly picked up the plates on which the green rinds of the melon were littered. She tossed them in the trashcan, and then began to wash the dishes. The gentle sounds of water splashing against porcelain and clay were comforting, even though strangely so. Kyou pushed himself away from the table, and stood up as he automatically began to dry off the dishes and place them respectively on their shelf.
"Ne, Kyou-kun? Are you alright?" Tohru's voice tried to cover the concern swimming like a river throughout. But, she could not hide such things from Kyou.
He turns towards her, placing the plate onto the counter top. It makes a slightly sound." What do you mean?"
"Are you okay? Kyou-kun seems, mad. Did I do something?" Her eyes have begun to gloss over, and the beginnings of tears form. "Please tell me if I have. I hate to see Kyou-kun mad at me."
"Tohru…" Kyou breathed as he wrapped his arms around her. "Understand: I am never mad at you." He said fervently, his voice filled with emotion. "Never…"
How close he was to her, he realized. Her scent was overwhelming—like fresh rose petals in the rain. It swam about him, causing him to slowly, slowly, begin to loose control. He tried to control his breathing. He tried to focus, but he could do none. Tohru's voice swam to him gently, questioning.
AN: Wow! Sap! ;;; heh heh heh. Next chapter, lets see where this goes, ne? Dun worry, y'all…I can't write lemons. *hides* Not as good as the last chapter. Sorry. I'll continue, but it depends how many reviews I get. I dunno if I write it well enough anyways. Its really hard to write dialog for Tohru without using 'you', so finally I gave it up, somewhat.