Sharing is Caring

Chapter 7
Sharing is Caring

After walking for a short ten minutes, the duo had made it to a small restaurant with all of its traditional sliding wooden doors open. Boisterous chatter came from inside as the sound and scent of Yakisoba being cooked travelled out into the evening air. Himura held up the fabric that was covering the top quarter of the doorway and let his company go in first. As soon as they had both got inside, they were shown to an empty table and had their orders taken, leaving them to talk at a table nestled in the corner by an open shutter.

Sliding onto the seat cushion, Kujo asked suddenly. "Why didn't you say that you were engaged when we were talking earlier with the others?"

"I don't want people to misunderstand."

"We're not just people; we're supposed to be your friends." Scowling, the blonde stared at her ex-classmate. “Besides, what’s to misunderstand about such a thing? You either are, or you aren’t.”

Giving a sigh, the man looked down, keeping his eyes on the low table as he explained. "It's not...we're not…involved, romantically. It's a business deal."

One of the employees came by their table and gave them their drinks. Ogling the man whom had changed into dress shirt and fresh slacks, the woman in a plain pale grey yukata almost tripped over her own feet before disappearing in order to service another customer.

Contrary to her company, the woman had opted for a loose tank top and a pair of grey cargo pants, and was lounging casually. "That sounds terrible, even coming from you." Chugging half of the beer that had been put in front of her, Kujo watched the couples pass the open threshold to her right. There must have been a historical tour or something of the like going on close by, as each of them, plus everyone beside them in the restaurant was wearing yukata and other fancy historical cosplay.

"I know. You keep telling me so." Taking his own drink, Himura downed the same amount as his company. "I think you've actually told me around eight times today already how much of a horrible person I am." His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was trying to read her expression from her profile.

Her right eyebrow flickered upwards and she turned to face him. "You're keeping count?"

"Yes." He replied flatly.

"Don't feel too bad about it." Swirling her drink, she took in a deep breath. Peering up to meet his line of sight again, her jaw pulsed. "Every time you so much as look at me when you think I'm not looking back, I can feel your distrust and bitterness."

Physically recoiling at her words, he held his hands up in panic. "That's not it."

Looking towards the bar area, the blonde waved a waiter over as she spoke. "Don't lie to me. You've always been bad at it." She didn’t even need to look at him, he shrunk back.

Hunching over slightly at the bluntness, the brunet shook his head. "I promise, that's not my intention."

“Don’t promise me anything.” Once she was sure she'd been seen by one of the workers, Kujo adjusted in her seat to face her company. An unusual look, unlike any he remembered seeing, painted her face. "Let's stop dancing around it. We know how this scene plays out and to be honest, I don't want to ruin this bit of time I got back."

“What are you say-” Halting as the waitress returned and the blonde rattled off a hefty order, Himura waited until the petite brunette was gone. Leaning forward, a taught expression on his face he tried again, this time, with an inclined whisper. “What are you trying to say Kujo?”

Necking the rest of her drink just in time for the two bottles of Western liquor to be brought over, the blonde dropped her empty glass down on the waitress’s tray as she kept her eyes on the man across from her. “If we’re pointing fingers and bubbling over with so-called secrets, let’s talk about what you were doing that afternoon.”

 

The Following Day


Shuffling out of the bed and almost dropping to the floor from her instability, Kujo moved for the window and pulled back the lace voiles that did no good at keeping harsh sunlight out. "What's up?" Her tone was rougher than usual, probably from sleeping with her mouth open – not that indulging in a good quarter of her vices had anything to do with it…

The sizzle of a pan fizzled in the background as the voices of the younger men bickered past the redhead's new city accent. "It's half six. I thought I'd call to make sure you were both awake."

"Urgh...I wish I wasn't awake." Only now looking at the bed ready to wake her drinking partner, she realized he wasn't there. "Himura's missing."

"What?"

The blonde rubbed her head as her eyes darted around. "He's not here."

The caller's tone turned teasing. "What do you mean, ‘he’s not there’? You shared a room?"

Grumbling, the blonde replied hastily. "You and Yuki shared a room, too."

Using her best smarmy voice, the redhead told. "That is very different."

Before Kujo had chance to reply, the bedroom door opened to reveal the missing man. "Where've you been?"

Furrowing his brows, the brunet sat down on the edge of the mattress with a bag of toiletries in his left hand as the other towelled his hair. "Using the bath."

"You could have left a note."

"I didn't think you'd be up yet."

"Well, I am." She huffed and turned back to the window to continue her phone conversation. "We'll still be there at half past."

"Alrighty. Try not to get into another lover's quarrel." And there was the dial tone.

Scoffing, Kujo glared at her phone as she squeezed the life out of it. Taking a breath as much as her burning lungs would allow, she grabbed her bag and marched for the door, only pausing to glare at the brunet. "Where is it?"

Recoiling from the glower and hungover pallor of the woman with eyeliner smeared down her cheeks like a member of an underground Visual Kei band, he pointed to the door. "Down the stairs and around the corner from the reception; there’s a sign above the door." He opened his mouth to explain the bathing situation, but she was already out of the door before he could warn her. “It’s a mixed bath….”

 

Helping Kurosawa’s mother with the food they’d prepared the night before, Shibata laughed at one of the woman’s sly dirty puns. The older woman with delicate features raised her brow when the passing Kurosawa gave a confused look to the female pair in the kitchen.

“Kaa San, do you know where my old rucksack is?”

“It’s in top of the cupboard.” She smiled at the young man as he practically skipped down the hallway. The homeowner grinned to the redhead beside her. “He’s so innocent. He gets that from his father, you know.” The woman in the pale kimono wrapped up a tradition bento box as Shibata finished handing off the fresh ingredients she’d cut. “Takumi died when Yuki was only a month old, so I don’t know how it happened.”

“I’d say it was good parenting.” Shibata told as she washed her hands.

“It’s a damn cert that he doesn’t get it from me.” The slender woman beside her grinned. “I used to be wild when I was younger. I thought times had changed, but then Yuki brought his club mates here for the first time and I was astounded by you all. Shoichi had always been around: he was like my second son.” The older female smiled as she stared off in reminiscence. “He was, and still is, a scaredy cat, but I’ll be damned if that boy won’t do anything for the people he cares about.”

“I love to wind him up, but I can’t deny that.” Shibata put the rubbish in the bin. “Even back when we were in school he was the same. Taka and I dated awful guys, but Sho once stuck up for us when there was a situation gone bad.” Recalling the memory, the redhead burst out laughing when the visual came to mind. “Given, he got his ass handed to him, but he was still there for us.”

“I was glad to see that Yuki had gained friends, but I was grateful you were all yourselves more than anything. You dressed how you wanted and were so out-going; Kaede was quiet but had his head on right; and Takara reminded me of myself when I was her age. It was kind of scary seeing it from an outside perspective. Most mothers would be concerned about their children hanging around such an odd group, but I was just glad that he was happy, and that you looked out for him without thinking his illness was the only thing to him.”

“There’s definitely a lot more to Yuki that his illness. He’s genuinely kind-hearted and his sense of humour is off-beat, and I honestly think he would go out of his way to help anyone, even if he didn’t know them. He’s probably the most sincere person I’ve ever met.”

“You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that, Rin Chan. It’s all any parent can ask for, for their children to be healthy, have good friends, and grow up right.” Fixing a stray lock of the younger woman’s hair which had fell from her ponytail, Mrs Kurosawa tiled her head with a strange look on her face. “It’s hard, isn’t it?”

Shibata’s expression dropped. She opened her mouth to say something, but Kurosawa had returned with the last of his luggage. The tall man pinched the front of his t-shirt and wafted cool air over his midriff. One hand on the door frame which led downstairs, the silver haired male huffed a long sigh.

“It’s too hot.” He wiped the sweat from his brow as he stared at the floor. “Uh, Shi-Ri Chan, are you okay?”

Kurosawa’s mother looked to him with a smile. “She’s fine; she just got some ginger in her eye.”

Advancing for the women at the sink, Kurosawa opened the fridge to his right and pulled out a bottle of milk. “This will help it.” Taking a strip of kitchen roll from the holder on the wall, he fixed the home remedy. Holding out the tissue soaked in milk, he placed his free hand on the redhead’s shoulder. “Do you want me to do it? Can you see?” He leaned to the side to inspect her face.

Shibata shook her head. “Thanks Yuki.” She took the kitchen roll and turned away. “I need to grab my toothbrush and the other stuff I left in the bathroom,” patting his arm, she advanced for the mentioned room. “then I’ll give Taka her secondary morning call.” She finished with a chuckle and the man nodded to her back.

Kurosawa looked to his mother as she washed her hands. “What’s wrong with Shi-Ri Chan?”

Mrs Kurosawa shook her head. “Just stress.” Drying her hands, the petite woman cupped her son’s face and smiled up at him. “It’s nothing she’ll want talk about if you nag.”

“I know the feeling.” Kissing his mother’s forehead.

“I don’t nag. Sho Chan nags you more than I do.”

“I know.” Kurosawa exhaled a long breath. “When someone nags more than your own mother, that should say something.”

“Perhaps you should propose soon before someone else snatches him up.”

“You’re right. It’s about time I did, right?” Kurosawa shielded his eyes and held a dramatic pose. “If only the man could cook.” He huffed and the pair set off laughing.

The talk of the minute knocked on the equivalent of a front door which was left open. “Mornin’ Yuki.” He turned his line of sight to the home owner and bowed his head. “Good morning, Mi O’San.” Rubbing his stomach, the stocky redhead followed his nose further into the home. “Something smells good.” He cocked his head and held his hand up to rectify his statement. “It always smells good in here.”

“Take a seat, Sho Chan. There’s leftover breakfast-”

“-Chi and Haru aren’t far behind-” The redhead told and as if on cue, two slim teens with rust coloured hair stood at the top of the stairs and poked their head inside the residence.

“Mi O’San~ it smells great in here!” The half of the twins wearing her hair in a hoop bun with a blue ribbon cooed.

“Thank you, Chikako.” Mrs Kurosawa smiled and beckoned the twins inside. “Come and sit down; have something to eat.”

The girl beside Chikako, the other half of the twins - Haruko - the girl with her hair in twin tails with pink skull slides blustered past her sister, then Tsukino at the mention of food. “Mi O’San, can we just move in here? Chi and I will help you set up shop every morning. We’re used to getting up early.”

“We’re sick of stinking of car fluid and finding metal shavings in our hair.”

The home owner chuckled at the twin girls in their mid teens rattling on as they sat at the low table in the dining area. “Your father worked very hard to have that store.” She knelt beside the rice cooker at the far end of the table and placed down plates wrapped in plastic before filling the electronic device. “Even when we were in school, he was adamant about owning either a garage or a hardware store.”

“Doesn’t that bring up questions about his masculinity?” Tsukino mumbled under his breath as he knelt at the table, his eyes down with a smirk.

Haruko stuck her foot out midway through her older brother’s descent, causing him to jut off to the side. “That’s rich, coming from you, you waster.” Glaring at the man flailing from landing on his hip, the twin-tail sister showed her teeth. “You work at a construction site and you were part of a ghost hunting club, yet you sleep with the light on after seeing the 10pm news because it sometimes mentions break-ins.”

“Home invasions are scary!” He turned his attention to his best friend. “Right, Yuki?”

The addressed raised his brows in thought and looked up at the ceiling as he mulled over the hypothetical. “I suppose if we lived in the middle of nowhere, it would be terrifying.” The man continued with a thoughtful hum as he placed out three dishes of freshly fried fish. “But we live in here - you can’t really get away from people.” He served the twins and the irritated redhead. Smacking his lips once, Kurosawa shrugged. “I live with my mother.” He pulled a comical face and quickly went on to add, “plus, your father does live next door. If somebody decided to break into here, I think there wouldn’t be much they could do before either of our parents put an end to it.”

Kurosawa scowled at the man beside him. “I hate it when you speak logically, Yuki.” He sent a sidewards glower to the taller man as he picked up the head of a mackerel and shoved it into his mouth. “Especially when you make me look like an idiot.”

Coming out of the bathroom, Shibata’s eyes scanned over the expand of guests. Her eyes landed on her red haired classmate. “I think this is the first time I’ve seen you awake before eight.”

“Ri-Nee!” The twins called in unison as they sprung up from the table. Flying at the tall woman, the female pair battered her with physical affection. “Wow,” Chikako hugged the woman from behind. Cupping her breasts, the first made a high pitched noise. “Eh, Haru, get a load of this.” She jutted her head to her sister as she gave a squeeze.

The other twin mirrored the fondling. Shibata held her bag and a plate at shoulder height. Quirking a perfectly manicure brow, the tall woman played. “At lease dish out breakfast first, girls. Come one, show some class.”

The twins giggled as they asked a hundred questions per minuted. Tsukino scowled at the scene filled with glistening eyes and natural skinship. The last time the twins had seen Shibata, they had been nine years old. They showed her more affection that they did after he’d been gone over a year to complete his apprenticeship. He was supposed to be their older brother but all he got from them was sarcastic insults and dismissive abuse. Feeling his temperature rise, the man grunted. “Dirty hoes.” He jested under his breath but all it earned was a punch from his best friend. Twitching at the sharp pain, he turned to Kurosawa with a wince. “What was that for?”

Kurosawa glared something serious. Leaning in with his back to the group as he knelt to get up, the effeminate male scowled. “Don’t you dare speak like that, Sho.” He collected the empty pots and used dishes dexterously, and then paused short of turning away. “I thought you were better than calling ladies things like that.”

Tsukino looked away with a frown. Prodding the meal in front of him, he kept his eyes down as the conversations rang loud. Taking her phone from the counter where it had been charging, Shibata tapped the keypad and held it to her ear. The guest paused his eating to watch the woman pace and forth. “Hm, okay. I’ll make some tea.” Finishing the call within a few seconds, Shibata turned to the others. “Taka and Kaede will be here in a minute.”

 

By the time 7:30 rolled around, the five members of the Ghost Hunters Club were gathered in the foyer between the shop floor and living area of Tsukino's home. Tsukino’s younger twin sisters Chikako and Haruko had rushed in like there was a fire in order to see their first crush after so many years. If the squealing and childish slapping of each other was anything to go by, they were not disappointed by the effect time had on Himura. The man in question however, was not too thrilled to be gushed over by a pair of seventeen year old girls. Shibata and Kujo prodded and poked the man in question, urging him to show a little public service only for him to fizzle like a fire cracker which had been dropped in a puddle.

Finding her fellow club member’s outrageous teasing sufficient enough for both of them, Kujo had passed on the message from the ‘Ryokan’ keeper while the others raided the hardware shop for the likes of flashlights, batteries, and rock salt that was typically used for road grit during the snowy months. Matsumoto, a bespectacled woman whom was a few years older than them was now the manager of Tsukino Hardware. From what Kujo could remember, the batty woman had been working there for as long as she’d been part of the club of rejects. Back then, Matsumoto was just a part timer who used to stutter and fall over her own feet. Now, as she was filling out paperwork and relaying orders to a delivery man, she was competent enough to point out where things were over her shoulder, without even looking.

The twins pulled comical faces as the delivery man frowned in confusion. Matsumoto was rambling off while her blush wasn’t quite hidden by the bottle glasses which took up a good third of her face. This fluster was likely down to the fact Tsukino. The shortest had returned from upstairs, his pants hanging off of his hips and a tank-top caught ravelled up around the top of neck, well-built back muscles flexing as he fought with the items.

“I forgot something, sorry.” His words were muffled as he struggled with the clothing. Bumping into the manager as he shoved his feet into his boots, the short redhead peered at the shorter female. “Sorry, Fumi Chan.” Spinning off his back foot, he handed his bag off to Kurosawa only to back-peddle. “Are you coming down with a summer cold? You’re looking a little flushed.” Everyone beside the man himself could see why the woman was red in the face due to his physical state; it had nothing to do with a virus. Hell, steam was clouding her glasses and practically escaping from the top of her head. Tsukino was just a moron.

Shibata halted her teasing of Hiruma to lean on the counter beside Kujo. Taking two lollipops from the jar beside the register, the redhead placed two 100 Yen coins down and looked up at the store owner. He was nothing like his son in way of looks with his staggering height which surpassed Hiruma’s by almost a head. His build exceeded sturdy and even when he was wearing overalls which covered most of his tattooed skin, he seemed scary to most people. Right now, as he lounged in a similar outfit to his son – worn correctly, however – Tsukino Genji was one of the most imposing men the group had come across.

He was a devoted father and loved his children and their close friends as much as any of their own parents did, but nobody would have guessed his soft side if they hadn’t seen it first-hand. Despite his trademark frown-lines made by too much scowling, he had a kind smile which caused crescents to form and laughter-lines to crease his temples. It was remarked that the twins used to cry if he smiled when they were newborns because he had prominent canines like that of an oni from an old print. This, and of course the man was covered in an array of traditional tattoos from his heyday in a biker gang caused nothing but rumours. The twins would now use this as a means to deter creepers, and many females would volunteer to collect hardware for their husbands and fathers just to get a look at the Demon of Yokosuka. Even now at forty five years of age, the man with facial scruff and a boyish laugh was nothing short of a divine image of masculinity.


 

Update: 20th March 2019 - 18:15