Author's Notes: There is a time gap between chapter 6 and chapter 7, because this chapter 7 was originally my chapter 8. I cut my original chapter 7 because it was boring and not entirely necessary to the story, at this point in time.
After some careful consideration, Tatsuha decided that the water streaming from the showerhead was no different from the water outside. Both were cold…equally cold. The water droplets struck his hand, like heavy beads of ice, leaving behind their cold stings. Now that he considered it, the water coming from the shower was probably a few degrees colder than the rain.
Uttering a few colorful curses at the beginning of the day was practically a custom by now. This morning was no different. A bucket of cold water over the head was not the kind of way most people wanted to start the morning, but then again, most people didn't want to wake up at the ass crack of dawn either. No sunrise could inspire awe in someone so tired.
Tatsuha growled, cursing the alarm clock, which coincidentally happened to be his father. With his father not around, it was okay to say what he felt. Knowing the old man, he probably shut off the hot water, on purpose, just to make sure life was even more of a fucking icy hell than it usually was. Of course, he'd go and say something like, 'The cold water will help you stay alert, Tatsuha.' That's the kind of shit the old man always said, and then he'd smile, as if to really say, 'It will also keep you from ever, ever having a sexual fantasy in my shower… ever'
Bastard.
Tatsuha held his hand into the water, waiting, with little hope, for the temperature to change. It seemed like this was how he spent a lot of his time… waiting for things to alter. Eiri was the only one to change things. Tatsuha only bended the rules. Mika was an absolute loyalist, not that there was much wrong with that, except that she was miserable.
Tatsuha shook his head.
"I wonder if I'll be miserable my whole life, as a monk… until I settle down with someone and have seven or eight monk children. I'd make them shave their heads," he said, musing to himself, frowning slightly, as the water refused to warm up.
Mika was supposed to show up today. She decided it yesterday, out of the blue. That was inconvenient because Ryuichi was also visiting today, some time in the afternoon.
The sunlight was already slowly beginning to creep into the temple, and with the sunlight faded Tatsuha's last hope of blowing off Ryuichi. So much for the luck of the morning shower. He'd prayed for rain for a good five minutes last night. Maybe he should have left a note with Buddha that he needed rain in the afternoon, not in the morning.
Then again, why run from it? The situation was bound to happen sooner or later. Mika would find out all about the relationship. She would definitely bitch about it. Who knew where a relationship with Ryuichi would lead anyway? It was safer just to think of his future at the temple, married to some girl, having pleasant bald-headed monk children, seven or eight in number. Of course, the girl would have to be pretty.
Maybe it was Tatsuha's imagination, but the water felt like it was growing colder.
In the afternoon, the sun came out of hiding, streaming its blinding rays onto the temple grounds, warming the cold earth. No rain storm of convenience. Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.
At the Uesugi family temple, the cherry blossoms had long since fallen from the trees, marking the beginning of spring. The air was cool and still, and the soothing silence went undisturbed, with the exception of the calm humming of a content musician.
Things went slowly in Kyoto, especially time.
Tatsuha reached down, his fingers brushing the netted dew off a dying blossom which had fallen to the ground, underneath the sakura tree, being perhaps one of the last to go. Mika should have shown up hours ago. Now, he was left alone with Ryuichi, not that that was such a bad thing.
The sound of light pen scratches against smooth paper were the only indications that Ryuichi was still writing. He'd been writing songs for hours… or maybe it was only one song he'd been working on the entire time. He wouldn't say.
Tatsuha sat close by, his back pressed to Ryuichi's back. Now would have been the perfect time for a cigarette, but Ryuichi hated the smoke.
Quiet times with Ryuichi were boring, but the silence between them was always companionable. At least all the free time gave rise to some interesting fantasies.
Tatsuha reached blindly for Ryuichi's hand, connecting with the cold metal of the silver bracelet Ryuichi wore around his wrist. Even with the slight jerk from Ryuichi, Tatsuha's fingers found their way, locking with Ryuichi's.
"Tatsuha," Ryuichi whined, trying to pull his hand away. The pen that he'd been writing with had fallen into his lap. "I can't write when you have my hand like this…"
"What were you writing?" Tatsuha asked, ignoring Ryuichi's upset voice. It was fun to tease Ryuichi a little. Tatsuha didn't expect an answer to his question. Ryuichi never answered questions about his work, until it was complete and he was fully satisfied.
No answer. Of course.
Tatsuha sighed, filling the silence. "I don't understand why you make me sit like this. I'm getting sick of looking at the pond." It was the same scene in front of him that he'd known his whole life, and he'd been looking at it for the past hour added to that. Sixteen years and one hour of watching stagnant water. There were better things to stare at right behind him.
"Because you were staring at me! I can't write when people do that." Ryuichi grabbed his writing hand and tried to pry free.
Tatsuha smiled evilly, casually tightening his grip on Ryuichi's hand. "I don't get why you're so uptight about your writing, Ryu-chan. Why wouldn't you want me to read it, unless it's something embarrassing… like a love letter? You don't have to be shy. I love you too..."
More silence. How fucking strange.
"You said you loved me yesterday. Does this have something to do with the sex? …I said I was sorry about hurting you. Don't even try telling me you didn't like it."
"Ta-kun… your sister is here," Ryuichi said, his voice even and calm.
Mika chose the most inopportune moments to creep up, almost like she was planning to catch him at an awkward moment. She could have been lurking around for hours, for all he knew. Tatsuha let go of Ryuichi's hand and turned around to face Mika. She didn't look shocked, like he'd expected. Instead she simply looked annoyed.
"Sorry I couldn't show up earlier Tatsuha."
"Don't pay any attention to what Tatsuha says Mika. He's always saying stupid things like that." Ryuichi stood up, unfazed, not bothering to brush off his jeans. He picked up his music sheet book from the ground, and tore a page from the spiral.
"Hey sis. That's okay. I didn't miss you." Tatsuha laughed, completely disregarding Ryuichi's comments. Maybe Ryuichi was the smart one, though at the time he just seemed cold. Tatsuha watched Ryuichi out of the corner of his eye, as the singer folded the sheet of paper, torn from his book.
Turning back to Mika, Tatsuha watched as his sister eyed Ryuichi. He could tell she wanted Ryuichi gone, before the conversation went any further.
"Want to go inside?" he asked his sister, even though he didn't want to be left alone with her. Mika was like having a mother… a very mean mother.
"Kumagoro and I have to leave soon anyway. I guess it's better if we go now," Ryuichi spoke up. He watched the brother and sister carefully, in particular Mika. Ever since Mika showed up, he seemed so much more in charge of everything. In fact, he almost looked angry at Mika… but that was how Ryuichi always looked when he was serious about something.
"Tatsuha, take this, okay?" Ryuichi smiled a little, as he took Tatsuha's hand, placing in it the paper he'd been folding, which was now folded into a perfect paper crane. "Call me later." Ryuichi took Kumagoro's arm, making the plush bunny wave to them. "Bye Tatsuha. Bye Mika."
Tatsuha waved back, stupid goodbye greeting that it was between lovers. "Bye Ryuichi," he grumbled, watching as Ryuichi left him behind with the vicious beast that was 'angry Mika'.
"For acting like such a kid, he certainly does wise-up quickly," Mika said, staring after Ryuichi, the same as her brother. "I'd say he has as much sense as Touma or anyone else they get to manage him."
"Yeah. Sakuma-san is a strange person."
"You mean Ryuichi." Mika leveled a glare at her younger brother. "There's no sense in denying it Tatsuha, so don't even try. Ryuichi apparently told his former manager about your relationship, and he told Touma. K was concerned for Ryuichi's career." Mika shook her head. "I, for one, don't give a shit about Ryuichi Sakuma. I'm more worried about you, Tatsuha… I know that if there was anyone you really loved, it would be Ryuichi Sakuma, but don't you even see how crazy that is? Dreams are fine, as long as they stay dreams. You have to wake up to reality, at some point."
"I was expecting you to yell…" Tatsuha walked to the temple steps, sitting down in a spot where many long conversations between the Uesugi children had passed. He fumbled for his cigarettes and lighter, intent on putting both to good use. It felt good to breathe in the smoke. Better than usual. "I wish you were yelling, because I'd have an easier time ignoring you," he said to Mika, glancing up at her.
"You know I'm right." Mika sat beside her younger brother, stealing a cigarette from him. "You're a priest. Dad depends on you… without Eiri."
"Eiri was the lucky one. There's no one else."
"Even if there were someone else, would you leave Dad like that Tatsuha?" Mika asked, her voice sounding doubtful. "Try to cover it up all you want. I know you and Eiri still care."
"…Maybe." Tatsuha watched the blue smoke from his cigarette curl up into the air, and dissipate. It was nice having something so unimportant to focus on, freeing his mind from such a hopeless conversation.
"Maybe what?" Of course Mika would have to prod.
"None of us asked for it. Why do we have to be miserable? Why did you have to marry Touma? I care about Dad, but what's wrong with being like Eiri? …I admire Eiri more than anyone else because he changed things for himself. He didn't want to be a priest. He didn't care about what anyone said."
"Why do you have to idealize it like that? Eiri wanted to be a writer. Why do you want out? … Ryuichi Sakuma?" Mika scoffed, lightly batting Tatsuha on the head. "What happens if Sakuma goes to America? In Japan, it's very hard to get a second start as a solo artist. He'll always be Ryuichi Sakuma of Nittle Grasper. If he went to America once, he'll go again."
"I wouldn't want him to go." Tatsuha crushed out his cigarette and flicked the butt into the garden. Mika watched it go soaring through the air. It landed next to one of their father's favorite shrubs.
Neither of them cared.
"But if it made him happy… you'd accept it." Mika sighed, her shoulders falling.
"Yeah… I'm going inside. I have some things I need to work on." A white lie. Tatsuha reached for his cigarettes and the paper crane Ryuichi folded for him.
"Does he always give you cute little gifts, like that?" Mika scoffed, snatching up the crane before Tatsuha could reach it. She examined it, only mildly interested. "He wrote something on the inside of this paper."
Tatsuha lifted the paper crane away from Mika, by its wing, holding it up to the light. "I can see the notes written on it." Without a second thought, Tatsuha began to unfold the crane. Unfolding the crane was a difficult task without ripping it, since Ryuichi creased the paper so well.
On the hidden side, Tatsuha saw an intricate composition of notes. The words underneath were written entirely in English. If only he could read English… The only recognizable characters were in Japanese. "To Ta-kun. Love, Ryu."
Ryuichi was tricky, but he didn't count on Tatsuha owning an English dictionary.
"Could we ever have it all Kuma?" Ryuichi asked, his eyes closing . He placed Kumagoro's soft, light body over his eyes, further blocking away the yellow, artificial light he could sense over his eyelids. Someone needed to change the lights in his apartment. Change them to cheerful colors, like white, violet and turquoise.
Between waking and sleep, he could better imagine things that refused to come to mind in an alert state. He could remember how nice to felt… the warmth of another person… not threatening but comforting. Comfort for the child who missed his friends. Tohma and Noriko would not play anymore.
"Why did I write that song for him in English?"