"I need you so much closer..."
Death Cab for Cutie's "Transatlanticism"
Tiny Cities Made Of Ashes-Chapter 3- Reservations
Keitaro sat at the table just as Shinobu set the dishes down. He gazed with anxiety toward the meal that she had concocted. Absent-mindedly sparing any formalities, he grabbed at the food and began devouring it. Shinobu glared at him for his lack of manners, but she couldn't blame him. Keitaro hasn't changed a bit, she thought to herself. She smiled at this thought, wondering how she would ever break the news to him about what she had been doing for the past three years. The tattoos, the outfit, how she knocked him out with out even registering that there was an attacker. She hated herself, for all the good she thought she had achieved, when in reality all she achieved was hate-mongering and the loneliness of the man she'd loved since she was twelve years old. These were things she could never forgive herself for. She had no idea what to say. How could she possibly make small- talk with a man she'd abandoned? She thought of many ways to approach the situation, and settled on a rather obscure question, but that confused her nonetheless.
"Why did you think I was Yakuza?" She asked, fearing the answer.
"Simple paranoia, I guess." He replied. She was relieved. "What are those tattoos for?" He asked. She hesitated. "I fell in with the wrong crowd," she answered, after a minute or so. "But, tally marks? C'mon. You can do better than that." He joked. She giggled. "Hey, I thought it was fitting at the time." She countered, in jest. "Fitting? What were you doing? Counting on your arm instead of you fingers? Did you need some help on your bank account?" Shinobu feigned a laugh. Eh, he has his moments, she thought, disappointed in his latest wisecrack.
"How were the past three years for you, Keitaro? For me, at least, they weren't very good. Sure, there were some good times. But in truth, I missed this place, and you, more than anything."
Keitaro blushed a little. "They were boring, desolate, and the closest to hell on earth this side of the thing really close to hell on earth."
Shinobu laughed, before she registered what he had said. "Oh, sempai. I'm so sorry. I would have come back sooner but, I couldn't. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me." She pleaded, as she burst into tears. "Please, Shinobu, I don't blame you for anything. You have nothing to be sorry about. If you demand forgiveness, then of course I give it to you. What matters is that you're here now, and I'm not letting you go."
A smile brightened her teary face. "Oh, sempai! Do you really mean it?" She inquired.
"Of course I do. Oh, and by the way." He said, with last part a serious tone. She flinched, not knowing what he would say, praying that it wouldn't be anything that jeopardized their friendship.
A smile formed on Keitaro's face. "This meal is the best thing I've ever tasted, in my life."
Not only was she relieved, but she was overjoyed. "I thought you were going to say something bad."
"Yeah, I had you fooled, didn't I?"
"Sempai! That is very unlike you!"
"I know, I know."
Keitaro finished off his plate, and was very satisfied. He wasn't kidding when he said it was the greatest meal he'd ever eaten. Shinobu stood up and declared, "Time for desert!" She walked, gracefully, toward the kitchen, and grabbed the last course of the meal. She walked back to the table, and set it down, giving Keitaro a good view of her cleavage in the process. His jaw dropped, and his pants tightened. When Shinobu realized what was happened, she stood up quickly, embarrassed. She wasn't sure if he'd been ogling or criticizing, and this worried her. Did she live up to his standards? She brushed the thought off and sat back down.
The dessert was even more enjoyable than the entrée. Keitaro had no idea how Shinobu had so acutely mastered the art of cooking. Frankly, he didn't care. All he cared about was that he was in heaven when he ate her food. When he was finished, he stood up, put his fists to his waists, and declared, "I must use the lavatories." And he stormed off into their direction.
Shinobu laughed silently to herself. He has developed a sense of humor, she decided.
When Keitaro returned from the toilet, Shinobu was nowhere to be found. He looked everywhere around the dorms, but he couldn't seem to find her anywhere. He began calling out her name. He finally came to the deck, where he found her staring out toward the stars. "There you are," he said, his relief apparent in his voice.
"When we were gone, did you ever look out at the stars, hoping that we were doing the same?" She asked. "Yeah, I did find myself doing that every once in a while, but when I did, I stopped myself, because I didn't want to live a cliché." He answered.
"Who were you trying to prove something to, when you did that." She delicately inquired.
"Myself, I guess. I never wanted to live my life as if it were a book with mediocre reviews." He laughed at that thought. "What's so funny?" She asked. "It's just that thought. If the last three years of my life were written as a book, it would have been described as boring, monotonous, and a sad excuse for a piece of literature." With that, he walked back into the building, and to his room. Shinobu followed, but lingered outside the door, as to not alert Keitaro of her presence.
He was soon asleep, and when he was, Shinobu entered. She walked gently over to Keitaro's futon, and kneeled next to and whispered, "I love you." She lay down, put her arms around him, and fell asleep herself.
When Keitaro awoke, he found Shinobu next to him. Fairly confident that nothing happened, he gave into his urges, and held her in a deep embrace, and drifted back off to sleep.
Next time he awoke, Shinobu was gone. He figured she was downstairs cooking breakfast, and upon arriving downstairs, he learned his assumptions were correct. He walked up next to her and said, "I slept beautifully, how about you?" He said. She smiled, and looked at him, with loving eyes, but didn't say a word, and went back to fixing breakfast.
He surprised himself on how charming he seemed. Hopefully, it wasn't just a string of luck on his part. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. He ran to answer it, and when he did, his jaw dropped. In front of him was a creature that was almost as beautiful as Shinobu. She wore a kendo suit, and held a sheathed katana at her side.
"Greetings, Urashima." The woman said.
"Motoko!"
Death Cab for Cutie's "Transatlanticism"
Tiny Cities Made Of Ashes-Chapter 3- Reservations
Keitaro sat at the table just as Shinobu set the dishes down. He gazed with anxiety toward the meal that she had concocted. Absent-mindedly sparing any formalities, he grabbed at the food and began devouring it. Shinobu glared at him for his lack of manners, but she couldn't blame him. Keitaro hasn't changed a bit, she thought to herself. She smiled at this thought, wondering how she would ever break the news to him about what she had been doing for the past three years. The tattoos, the outfit, how she knocked him out with out even registering that there was an attacker. She hated herself, for all the good she thought she had achieved, when in reality all she achieved was hate-mongering and the loneliness of the man she'd loved since she was twelve years old. These were things she could never forgive herself for. She had no idea what to say. How could she possibly make small- talk with a man she'd abandoned? She thought of many ways to approach the situation, and settled on a rather obscure question, but that confused her nonetheless.
"Why did you think I was Yakuza?" She asked, fearing the answer.
"Simple paranoia, I guess." He replied. She was relieved. "What are those tattoos for?" He asked. She hesitated. "I fell in with the wrong crowd," she answered, after a minute or so. "But, tally marks? C'mon. You can do better than that." He joked. She giggled. "Hey, I thought it was fitting at the time." She countered, in jest. "Fitting? What were you doing? Counting on your arm instead of you fingers? Did you need some help on your bank account?" Shinobu feigned a laugh. Eh, he has his moments, she thought, disappointed in his latest wisecrack.
"How were the past three years for you, Keitaro? For me, at least, they weren't very good. Sure, there were some good times. But in truth, I missed this place, and you, more than anything."
Keitaro blushed a little. "They were boring, desolate, and the closest to hell on earth this side of the thing really close to hell on earth."
Shinobu laughed, before she registered what he had said. "Oh, sempai. I'm so sorry. I would have come back sooner but, I couldn't. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me." She pleaded, as she burst into tears. "Please, Shinobu, I don't blame you for anything. You have nothing to be sorry about. If you demand forgiveness, then of course I give it to you. What matters is that you're here now, and I'm not letting you go."
A smile brightened her teary face. "Oh, sempai! Do you really mean it?" She inquired.
"Of course I do. Oh, and by the way." He said, with last part a serious tone. She flinched, not knowing what he would say, praying that it wouldn't be anything that jeopardized their friendship.
A smile formed on Keitaro's face. "This meal is the best thing I've ever tasted, in my life."
Not only was she relieved, but she was overjoyed. "I thought you were going to say something bad."
"Yeah, I had you fooled, didn't I?"
"Sempai! That is very unlike you!"
"I know, I know."
Keitaro finished off his plate, and was very satisfied. He wasn't kidding when he said it was the greatest meal he'd ever eaten. Shinobu stood up and declared, "Time for desert!" She walked, gracefully, toward the kitchen, and grabbed the last course of the meal. She walked back to the table, and set it down, giving Keitaro a good view of her cleavage in the process. His jaw dropped, and his pants tightened. When Shinobu realized what was happened, she stood up quickly, embarrassed. She wasn't sure if he'd been ogling or criticizing, and this worried her. Did she live up to his standards? She brushed the thought off and sat back down.
The dessert was even more enjoyable than the entrée. Keitaro had no idea how Shinobu had so acutely mastered the art of cooking. Frankly, he didn't care. All he cared about was that he was in heaven when he ate her food. When he was finished, he stood up, put his fists to his waists, and declared, "I must use the lavatories." And he stormed off into their direction.
Shinobu laughed silently to herself. He has developed a sense of humor, she decided.
When Keitaro returned from the toilet, Shinobu was nowhere to be found. He looked everywhere around the dorms, but he couldn't seem to find her anywhere. He began calling out her name. He finally came to the deck, where he found her staring out toward the stars. "There you are," he said, his relief apparent in his voice.
"When we were gone, did you ever look out at the stars, hoping that we were doing the same?" She asked. "Yeah, I did find myself doing that every once in a while, but when I did, I stopped myself, because I didn't want to live a cliché." He answered.
"Who were you trying to prove something to, when you did that." She delicately inquired.
"Myself, I guess. I never wanted to live my life as if it were a book with mediocre reviews." He laughed at that thought. "What's so funny?" She asked. "It's just that thought. If the last three years of my life were written as a book, it would have been described as boring, monotonous, and a sad excuse for a piece of literature." With that, he walked back into the building, and to his room. Shinobu followed, but lingered outside the door, as to not alert Keitaro of her presence.
He was soon asleep, and when he was, Shinobu entered. She walked gently over to Keitaro's futon, and kneeled next to and whispered, "I love you." She lay down, put her arms around him, and fell asleep herself.
When Keitaro awoke, he found Shinobu next to him. Fairly confident that nothing happened, he gave into his urges, and held her in a deep embrace, and drifted back off to sleep.
Next time he awoke, Shinobu was gone. He figured she was downstairs cooking breakfast, and upon arriving downstairs, he learned his assumptions were correct. He walked up next to her and said, "I slept beautifully, how about you?" He said. She smiled, and looked at him, with loving eyes, but didn't say a word, and went back to fixing breakfast.
He surprised himself on how charming he seemed. Hopefully, it wasn't just a string of luck on his part. His thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. He ran to answer it, and when he did, his jaw dropped. In front of him was a creature that was almost as beautiful as Shinobu. She wore a kendo suit, and held a sheathed katana at her side.
"Greetings, Urashima." The woman said.
"Motoko!"