Chapter 16 of 16
About a month later, we take that trip to Hokkaido we talked about before.
After initially putting a Band-Aid over the situation, I leave Miki to continue watching the koala documentary she was watching before I got there. It's late and I need to get to bed. My own bed.
The next morning I wake up regretting what I've done. I wish I'd stayed over at Miki's. I wish I'd told her I wanted more starting that night. That I didn't want to put anything on pause.
I mentally slap myself silly. How selfish and unfair of me to regret what was probably a good decision made based on what's best for her. What's best for me, too. I decide then to forget about it all. As long as we're friends.
Shiba-chan calls me the next day and asks how things are. I tell her Miki and I have solved our problems. She's relieved to hear that. I don't share any more information. She doesn't ask anything out of the ordinary. Maybe she really doesn't know anything about the true nature of me and Miki. It doesn't matter, though. I'm not about to tell her the details of what happened. Not yet anyway.
I come to the decision not to leave H!P. I realise that my initial thoughts on the matter were right. The thoughts I had after that magazine interview in Yamanashi the day after my birthday. I have improved a great deal, and I do have enough talent to leave H!P, but I could do some more growing up. Sure, there are other singers younger than me who are battling it out on their own in the harsh world of entertainment, but I want to get things right, and so I decide not be a hypocrite. I take my own advice- take things slow so that they don't get messed up.
A few days after, I have a long talk with Miki. I explain everything about my situation to her. She listens and offers me kind words or advice wherever she can.
Once I'm finished telling her everything, I visit Shiba-chan and tell her my decision. She's elated. She tells me she knew I'd make the right decision. I asked her what she would have said if I'd told her I was going to leave the Project.
"If you said it with the same conviction with which you just told me your final decision, then I would have replied in the same way."
That's Shibata for you. You've got to love a girl who is so... I don't even know how to describe it. But I love it and her! I give her a giant hug, thank her, and tell her never to make me think that much again (which is a joke, of course).
The next month passes by so quickly. I don't see Miki much because we're both insanely busy with touring and filming. We keep in constant touch, though, and we repair the foundations we've ruined. Things aren't that awkward between us, but sometimes there's something that nags at my mind when I talk to her or see her. I guess I can't forget our venture into the land that lies beyond friendship.
We're in our hotel room in Sapporo. We have two double beds (the room came that way) and we're sitting on mine playing cards. We've been playing for about two hours since we got in this evening, but both of us are determined to win. We've lost track of time. Shopping bags are piled on the floor below us, evidence of how much money we have spent on this trip so far. It's only been one day. We arrived last night very late and fell asleep almost immediately upon reaching the room. We shopped all day today, and we'll be staying here for one additional day and night.
"You cheater!!! Cheat cheat cheat!!!" Miki squeals at me as I try to pass off a jack and a king as a pair of threes.
I groan and take the whole pile that has accumulated. We're playing cheat, but we've left out randomly selected cards to make it interesting, otherwise it doesn't work with two people. I try and organise the cards, but there are simply too many. I grow frustrated and throw them on the bed.
"Forget it. I don't want to play anymore," I sulk.
"Typical you," Miki snorts.
I glower at her and then we both laugh. Thankfully, some things will never change with us.
"Hey, you hungry? I'm starving," I say.
My stomach feels like it's going to collapse. Miki nods and tells me she's hungry, too, so I pull out the menu for room service. As I study it, Miki reads over my shoulder, and I'm very aware of her presence. Some of her hair is touching my arm, and I feel strange. Stranger than usual. She shifts her weight and her shoulder brushes against mine, her leg touches mine. I feel pleasantly dizzy.
It's not like we haven't touched before this past while. We've even hugged each other a few times. I just shouldn't be feeling something that there's no point in feeling. We haven't talked about becoming anything beyond friends again. I've left it up to her to decide whether to bring it up or not. She's the one who has to deal through more, I think.
I cough, clear my throat, and turn the page.
"Are you getting sick?" she asks me immediately.
"Huh? Oh, no. Just coughing."
We continue to read the menu. I hope she can't hear my heart pounding because it just started racing. I get up abruptly, slamming the menu shut.
"Okay, I know what I'm getting," I say quickly as I head for the phone.
"W-wait a minute, Aya-chan. I haven't decided."
Miki scrambles up and grabs the menu from me. Her fingers almost touch mine.
Ugg. Why am I feeling this again all of a sudden?
She flips through quickly.
"Okay, I'm ready. I'll point, you talk."
I wonder how hard it would be for her to just tell me what dish she wants. I mutter an "okay" and I pick up the phone, dialling the front desk. Miki stands very close to me as I do this. I order my spaghetti and then read out what Miki's pointing to. An appetiser. An expensive one. She then points to something else. I read it out to the woman taking my order. She's about to ask if I want anything else when Miki points to another dish. I cover the mouth of the phone.
"Did you change your mind?" I whisper.
"No. I want that, too," she says.
I frown but uncover the phone and continue the order. Before I'm finished speaking, Miki points to another dish, so I order it. She chooses one more, I order it, and then it's done. I hang up.
"You realise that's going to take, like, over an hour to bring all that stuff, right? She said an hour and a half at the most," I state angrily.
She looks at me and then looks away, fidgeting.
"I'm starving," I whine.
"I have some candy in my bag," Miki offers.
She gets up and takes out a handful of mints from her bag and offers them to me. I grab one from her hand and eat it without thanking her, glaring at her the whole time. She scratches her neck.
"I'm sorry. I just have a big appetite now," she says in what has to be the most unconvincing voice ever.
I don't know what's up with her or what kind of trick she's trying to play by ordering more food than she can possibly eat, but now I'm cranky because I'm hungry.
"Whatever. The only thing that's going to make me feel better now is kicking your ass at a game of President," I glower.
I go and sit on the bed and start distributing the cards. She nervously joins me and we start to play. I lose some of my flare after a few rounds, and I keep looking at her when she's inspecting her cards.
I've never wanted her so much before in my life.
No sense in denying it. I don't know if it's because we're alone and far away from our lives in Tokyo, staying in a hotel room together, or if it's because we're both sitting on a bed, or if it's because we've had such a wonderful day. Something in me feels empty, and I begin to miss what I so carelessly took for granted before. I've been missing it, but repressing it, for a month. However, now it has really gotten to me. I feel like we've reached an impasse and that one of us has to jump up and revive our lives by doing something crazy and unexpected. I really want to, but then I don't want to force anything or confuse anyone.
It's so strange, though, because I've never felt this strongly about having to do something before. I've never felt so right about it. I've never felt so lost, either.
"Hey, Aya-chan," Miki says quietly, interrupting my reverie.
"Mmhmm?" I ask, blinking and refocusing my eyes on her.
I've been staring at her without realising it.
"You know I ordered a lot of food, right?"
I remember my hunger and my anger.
"Yes."
"And you know it's going to take over an hour, right?"
"Yes."
"So, uh, why don't we take a bath before that?"
If I believed in spontaneous human combustion, I'd believe it if someone told me I was about to explode into flames. I think my eyes go out of focus again and I vaguely remember the cards spilling out of my hands slowly as she gets up on her knees and crawls over to me. She takes my hand in hers and takes me to the bathroom. We haven't taken a bath together since that week...
I swallow partly in fear, partly in anticipation, partly in, well, whatever. I push it out of my mind. She's just being Miki. This bath thing is practical. We have the time. Why waste it on playing cards? Bath first, then dinner, then more cards, then gossip, and then bedtime. Separate beds.
"Lucked out with this Jacuzzi," she grins, turning on the water.
The tub starts to fill up and she turns to me. I'm standing there awkwardly.
"Do you want to?" she asks.
Do I want to what? Take a bath? Kiss her?
Yes, yes. But which one is she asking?
I nod. She smiles and takes a hand and touches my face.
"You're warm," she states quietly, a question in her voice.
"I-it's the water," I stutter back, pointing to the tub from which steam is now rising.
She smiles and takes my other hand again. I'm scared that maybe her actions don't mean what I want them to mean. I'm anticipating, however, feeling her hands on me, her lips on me... And I'm excited because she's Miki and nobody else can do wild things to my hormones by just standing there beside me like she does. My heart speeds up.
One of her hands reaches out and she pokes her finger into my cheek gently. She pulls it away and shows me something on her finger.
"Eyelash," she says.
I look down. It certainly is one. I blow some air at her hand, and the eyelash flutters away to land somewhere on the ground between us. We pay it no attention.
"Miki-" I start to ask her what she's doing, but she then places her finger against my lips and beckons me to be quiet.
I don't talk and listen as she puts her hands on my shoulders
"I didn't want to say anything last week, or the week before, or the week before that, but I have to tell you now. There is no way I can ever go back to not thinking about you as the cutest, friendliest, most respectable, most talented, sexiest, hottest, most beautiful and lovable thing in the world," her voice wavers as she speaks honestly from her heart.
My heart beats even faster than before, and I almost wish this wasn't happening because it's painful to have to feel all of this all over again. The feeling where you know something big is probably going to happen and you're wondering how it's going to turn out. A bit like how I feel before a big concert.
"You are my best friend, my closest friend," she takes a breath, "but I like it even better when you're more than that. I want to know if you like it better, too, and if you do, then I want to know if you don't mind being that again."
I nod slowly at first and then more strongly. She smiles big and bright with happiness that I haven't seen in a while.
"And I didn't lie that night. Um, that night when I- uh, I- um, I told you that I always want you no matter what."
I gulp and blush. I have to say something.
"I didn't tell you before, but when you said that, I thought the same thing. You know. About you. And I haven't really stopped thinking it."
Silence bathes us as she takes her hands off my shoulders and lets them rest by her sides naturally.
"I miss that closeness we had," she says.
I nod hazily. I miss it, too.
"Aya, I've got to know, though, before anything happens. Will you be upfront with me and tell me right now what you expect or intend or... Screw it, I don't know. Just tell me you're not going to shut off from me. I want you," she says, her eyes grazing over my entire body, "but I want you."
She puts both her hands on my head gently and stares at me with pleading eyes. I smile calmly and take her hands off my head.
"You have me," I say, putting her hands on my waist, "and you have me."
I lean my forehead against hers.
"Trust me."
She squeezes me and for a minute I think that I'm going to die of happiness or mushiness. I've never been like this with anyone before. Well, except with her before.
What is happening right now is so clichéd, so movie-like, that it's almost disgusting. However, I don't care. I never in my wildest dreams imagined that my wildest dreams would come true. I'm happy to not be let down.
Miki suddenly jumps away, shocking me into thinking she's changed her mind about whatever she's about to do. She turns the water off for the bathtub. A little too much, but we can deal. I ssexy beast and pull her back up to me, relieved.
"We have about forty-five minutes before dinner will even be put on a cart to be brought up here. Let's make the most of it," I say softly.
We slowly help each other undress, barely touching each other. Our hands pass over each other's bodies so lightly that it's almost like we're ghosts who are unable to feel. The tension from anticipation in the air is such that it presses down on my chest, almost making it difficult to breathe.
Once we're undressed, we wash up outside the tub. As she's trying to wash her own back, I take the sponge out of her hand and do it for her. I lean forward and kiss her back, but it's full of soap and I gag, spit, and rinse. She laughs at me, so I scrub her back harder.
Once we're clean, we go into the tub. I'm first. She follows. We sit on opposite sides and stare at each other, our feet touching. I don't want to do anything first. I want her to feel okay about everything, because she's the one that was hurt most before. She doesn't make any move and looks content to just watch me.
"So..." I say. "Are, um..."
I don't know how to finish that sentence. She gives me a silly look, halfway between seductive and, well, just plain dorky. Maybe she wants me to do something first.
I mentally shrug and "swim" my way over to her. I sit beside her and I wiggled an arm around her back, my hand coming to rest on her ribs opposite me.
"Just think that after this, we'll have a nice, warm, huge dinner to look forward to."
That's got to be the stupidest, most unromantic thing I've ever said to anyone in this sort of situation, but she smiles. She probably thinks it's just a quaint, Ayaesque thing.
"And then after, we can go back to our card game," she says with an evil glint in her eye.
"Fine by me," I refuse to give in. "I'm going to win."
It's funny how our flirting before Kobe never led anywhere, but now it's merely a prelude to something bigger.
"That's no fair," Miki whines with a sad voice. "First you defeat me with your looks and your mind and your words, making me fall for you hopelessly, and then you say you'll defeat me at cards? I feel terrible."
I'm about to retort when I realise what she's said.
So I do the only sensible thing I can think of. I kiss her. Being partly submerged in water for this makes it much easier because we can float around and not worry about crushing each other. I wiggle my way above her and hold her back with one hand to help her keep her from sliding down and drowning, while my other hand holds me up.
I promptly slip, and we splash into the water. Water goes up my nose, and I pull up, gasping for air and hacking and coughing. She does the same, but she's laughing at me while she does it. I sit up and mope at how much I just messed that up, but she pinches my arm and tells me not to be upset. Water sports are dangerous. I ask her if maybe we should just take it easy for now, and she growls "no", grabs me by the waist, and attacks me (gently).
Making out in a bathtub requires skill. I guess we have to work on that. We have a good time, though. Better than a good time. We remember a fraction of why we did what we did in Kobe and subsequent days.
After half an hour of just playing around, we get out of the bathtub (surprisingly both alive and not drowned) to dry off and get dressed. Just as we're finished dressing, there's a knock at the door. I go to answer. The server tries not to look at me strangely as he wheels in enough food for a family of four. I thank him and he leaves.
I uncover some of the dishes and look at the food hungrily, but Miki appears beside me like a magical ninja and makes me put the pot lids back on. She takes me by the hand and pushes me onto the bed. She snuggles up beside me, resting her head right in my armpit.
"Miki, I'm really hungry."
She puts a hand on my stomach and rubs it.
"Seriously. I'm starving."
She somehow tugs me so that I'm above her.
"Don't you want me?" she whispers.
I look down and am suddenly hungry for more than just food. I nod.
"Then you can have me."
I waste no time. Food be damned. However, as I'm about to kiss her, she pulls some sort of move and suddenly I'm underneath her and she's smothering me softly with urgent kisses, which I try to return.
She doesn't notice as she runs her hands over me gently, though, that I flinch inside against my will. I shy away. This surprises me, but there's a part of me that's afraid of her losing control. What if she gets carried away? What if something clicks and makes her remember her anger and how she dealt with it before? The violence could be like some sort of addictive drug for her. Now she's in that same position of power, and if she did anything to hurt me, I don't think I could stop her. Not because I'd think I'd deserve it, but because I'd be too upset to believe it.
I blink and realise Miki's stopped. She's looking down at me, her eyebrows knit together. She rolls onto her side and puts a hand on my arm.
"I won't hurt you."
I guess she can read my mind after all.
"I know," I reply automatically.
She takes my chin and turns my head to force me to look at her.
"I won't hurt you," she repeats slowly and seriously as if I never replied.
I sigh and I smile a smile that's overcome with self-admonition. I'm being silly. Of course she won't hurt me. What happened before was isolated. Miki's already demonstrated that she's not like that. I believe her words completely. Even if I can't forget something like that night, I have to try and move beyond it.
"I know."
This time I mean it.
"Don't think that I will ever do that again to you," she continues.
"I believe you," I say warmly, but she refuses to smile at me.
"And I'm very sorry," she apologises, her tone switching from serious to regretful.
"Miki, we already forgave each other about everything. We're over that."
"No, we didn't. We never talked about how I treated you badly when I was angry. I shouldn't have done that just because I didn't think I had you. That was... sick and just wrong."
I look away at the ceiling.
"It wasn't that bad," I say in a barely audible voice. "It's not like I really tried to stop you..."
I look at her and she looks super embarrassed now.
"Don't worry," I assure her. "It was... interesting. It was kind of... good."
She looks surprised.
"In a shocking and wrong way and only because I was feeling bad," I quickly add. "It still upset me even though I totally deserved it. Don't get used to me liking that all the time, though."
She shakes her head vigourously and touches my head.
"Don't expect that from me ever again. Not to that extent, at least," she winks.
I blush and then surprise her by jumping onto her and smothering her with the biggest hug I have ever given anybody in my life. I let my full weight rest on top of her. She returns the hug, squeezing me tightly.
"You're too heavy," she wheezes after a minute. "Can't... breathe..."
I push into her harder.
"What?" I ask in a threatening tone.
"Nothing!" she squeaks.
I smile triumphantly and push myself up again, letting her breathe normally.
"Now try that again when you're not wearing anything and maybe I won't complain," she leers at me.
"When did you become such a pervert?" I ask in shock.
"Oh, come on," she groans, rolling her eyes. "Am I not allowed to say those things to you without getting in trouble? Or have you forgotten what it's like with me?"
I feel my face turn beet red, but I soon relax and become thoughtful.
"It's true. It has been a while."
She grins and shoots her hands up my shirt, startling me.
"Yes. But I don't think people forget things like this easily.
I gulp.
"Yeah, huh."
"I missed you, Aya," Miki whispers sadly.
I bend down to her ear.
"I missed you, too. But it was for the better, right?"
"I guess."
"And it's over now. The waiting. I think I can be completely honest with you now. I'll tell you anything you want to know."
"Just one thing," she says, her hands resting on my ribs.
"What?"
"How much do you love me?"
I roll my eyes. I'm sure that's supposed to be a cute and silly question because she has to be retarded not to know how I feel. I opt for a non-verbal, completely physical response in that I sit up and take her shirt off to reveal a Miki whose body has gotten a little soft around the edges and possibly hotter for it.
My Miki. All mine. I shift down and rest my cheek on her tummy, feeling it rise and fall with every breath she takes. I move my head up and put it against her heart and listen to it beating. It's going quickly. She's nervous.
I find her hands blindly and hold them tightly.
"Don't be scared," I tell her.
"I'm not scared..." she trails off because she knows I can hear her heart beating so quickly.
"I won't hurt you," I say, reminding us both that she wasn't the only one doing the hurting.
"I know."
"Ever."
"I know."
I pull up, look into her eyes, and we have a staring contest much like we did over a month ago before this all started. Back when we were both innocent of any wrongdoings. Back when we had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. Back when we couldn't control ourselves. I feel that loss of control coming over me again. Any minute now I'll snap. It's a good loss of control. It's the kind that can only come from wanting something so genuinely, so much, that you'll do anything. That's how I feel about Miki.
I drag my hands along her arms from her hands. They climb up her shoulders and I'm soon holding her neck, the part of the body that I consider to be the one most in need of protection. One squeeze, one puncture, and life is gone. It fills me with warmth and confidence when she doesn't flinch as I hold her there. It's how I know she trusts me completely with her life. I can feel every bone and relaxed muscle. It's so soft, but there's something that remains so strong about it. I guess it's just one of those features on a person that can be totally relaxed yet still look imposing. Like a prominent nose or chiselled biceps. Miki has neither of the last two, but she does have broad shoulders that-
What am I doing? I stop analysing her features (because I'm probably boring her), so I start kissing them. She sighs in what I hope is satisfaction. I apologise to her physically for the things I've done. I have said "sorry" enough times to get the point across intellectually, but now I have to show her - with these actions that speak louder than words - that I mean it. On top of that, she needs to know what I'm thinking and how I'm feeling now. Words can't begin to describe it. Actions can't quite convey the meaning. All I can do is try and hope that she can read my mind and know what's in my gut.
I accidentally tickle her ribs with my hands. I honestly don't mean to. My hands just move out of their own volition. She laughs, throwing her head back, arching her back, and trying to push me off of her. Her head is stopped from going far back by the pillow behind it. I murmur an apology and kiss her taut neck, suddenly even hungrier for skin. I finally realise that she tastes faintly of soap. It's not unpleasant, but it's a little funny. It tickles my nose.
"You taste like soap," I inform her of exactly what's on my mind.
"Yeah?" she asks uninterestedly.
She's got her arms wrapped around me and she's drawing things on my back through my shirt.
"It suits you. Nice, clean, well brought up girl."
I continue to devour her neck as I can sense her rolling her eyes at me.
"That's more like you, Miss I-Love-My-Mom," she retorts.
I stop what I'm doing, think about sending my own retort back her way, but then think better of it and continue what I'm doing.
"Whatever."
It's true. I do love my mom and the rest of my family, but I really don't want to think about them right now.
"Still soapy?" Miki asks jokingly.
"Yes," I mumble, my lips pressed against her skin.
I move up and kiss her lips and let her do what she wants with her hands. She's trying to get my shirt off, but I don't move to help. I have my own, passive forms of punishment.
"Move your arms," she mutters, urgency in her voice, hands tangled in my shirt.
"No," I breathe into her mouth.
She grows agitated. I've sparked something in her. She soon gives up and moves her hands down to the waist of my pants. Neither mountains nor belt buckles can stop this girl from touching me. From getting what she wants. But I can. I can stop her.
"Stop."
Her hands freeze.
"Sorry," she yelps.
She puts her hands palm down on the bed and doesn't move. I roll off her and stretch out onto my side. She still doesn't move.
"Miki," I ask in disbelief. "Are you... whipped?"
She frowns at me and grabs me by the shoulders, pinning me down so I can't move. The concept of being afraid seems foreign to me now. This is a good thing.
Miki hovers over me looking like a devil, eyes narrowed, lips curled up in a playful sneer.
"You. Wish."
And she proves to me that I certainly don't have any control over her. I get the point after somehow all my clothes have come off and she's still wearing most of hers. I gripe about how it's unfair, but it's too easy to get me to shut up. Or at least to stop complaining.
Maybe it's just because I remember something different, maybe it's because she's extra aware of it tonight, or maybe even it's just that she's levelled up in her feelings (which to me almost seems impossible that she could be devoted to me any more than she's already claimed), but Miki handles me so gently and so affectionately that I know I can't ever repay those sorts of feelings to her. I don't think that even all the love in the world channelled right at her could ever compete with whatever is going through her head. I love it and I love her, so I enjoy it when she pulls my jeans off and scratches her nails gently up my thighs and kisses my stomach and holds my hands tightly. I whisper her name, which seems to drive her as much nuts as it drives me when my name passes through her lips.
Right now I'm on a cliff, teetering dangerously at the edge. However, one push will send me tumbling not onto jagged rocks and to my death, but to delight and contentment and all that is happiness. If I stay on the cliff, life won't be bad, but the hue will be different. The colours not as bright.
Miki pushes me over the edge in several ways.
I could say that life will never be the same after tonight, but I think what would be more fitting would be to say that life hasn't been the same since I met Miki, and it'll never ever be the same whether she's around or not. With her I've learned to expect not a stable life, but something that's changing and exciting all the time. It seems like whether it's been good or whether it's been bad, it's always led up to an excellent ending. A climactic ending, if you will.
As I fall through the air and towards the heavenly water below, I smile. I grab one of those shoulders of hers and squeeze, digging my fingers in as if to touch her blood and bones so that I can directly feel those things that make her exist. Of course I don't break the skin or leave marks that will last beyond a minute or two, but it's enough to imagine that I'm closer to her than I've ever been.
And when I hit the water, I'm submerged in warmth and I hug her snugly for a few minutes, overcome with feelings that completely drown out any remorse or fear that I ever dared to let get to me tonight. I even forget that I was starving a while ago.
Then she lets go. I feel a little chilly from the air conditioned air and I pull her back towards me, latching on tightly. She looks a little surprised at first, but her expression softens and as soon as I trust myself to move steadily, she lets me do what I want to her. What I know she wants.
Hours later, Miki is asleep, cuddled into me in a familiar way as I lie awake watching her and thinking.
How many gods did I have to piss off to lose her in the first place? Probably a lot. Our attraction to one another is too strong to be broken by merely one divine will. It must have taken dozens of them to get us to make mistakes and then hundreds of them to get us to fight about it. We beat them in the end.
What Miki and I have goes beyond fate or destiny or other such celestial forces that I don't really believe in anyway. Put us on opposite ends of Earth and we'll journey through whatever dangers in order to meet up halfway. It's not destiny. It's just that I'm me, and she's she, and together, we're two friendly, talented, stubborn, gorgeous girls walking down that same path of youth, hand-in-hand and heads in the clouds.
-The end of story 3