Rating: PG-13 (Wheeee.... limey. Quite. ^_^;)
Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon, yadda yadda... blah blah...
"Musashi! Haven't you waited on those tables yet?"
"Musashi, these drinks have been ready for five minutes now!"
"Musashi-chaaan... Why are you so slow today?"
I used to think that waitressing was a menial job, degrading in the fact that it forced you to be subservient to other people. Now I'm just glad I have a job. Yet on this particular day, as I hustle around crowded tables with one too many food laden trays, I wish I could be somewhere else. Preferably relaxing in a chair, maybe with Kojiro massaging my poor tired feet... And then that massage would hopefully evolve into a little something more, and...
I suppose that daydreaming on the job is a dangerous activity. When I find myself on the floor, scrambling to pick up the things I had dropped, it is no longer just a supposition.
"Musashi," I hear the manager's deep voice intone above my head. "Let's try to be a little more careful. The Sakura Café doesn't have a reputation of dropping trays all the time that some places may have. Be more careful, you may not get another chance."
With as much dignity as I can muster, I stand up and manage to look him in the eye. "Yes sir," I mumble deferentially, fighting back the urge to say that it had never happened before anyway, and couldn't you be a little more understanding, considering how I've been run into the ground today because there isn't enough help?
Actually, now I'm just glad tomorrow is my day off.
"So then he said, 'So, do you want to go out Saturday night?' Isn't that just great, Musashi-chan? Hmm?"
"Oh... Yes, that's great." For what feels like the hundredth time today, I sigh deeply. To top off my day, Keiko, another waitress at the café, had volunteered to walk part of the way home with me. Not that I particularly dislike her, excepting the fact that she is the perfect picture of a bubbly, light-headed blonde who loves to talk about her latest male acquisition. It's just that with my current foul mood, I am barely managing to reply civilly to her questions.
"You know, Musashi-chan..." she begins, swinging around to look at me so that we both stop walking. "You look tired... Is something wrong?" She takes one of my hands earnestly in her own and squints at me hard as though she can read my mind. "Oh, I know... It's what happened today. Well, don't let Shinji-san get you upset, he may be the manager, but--"
"I'm just fine," I tell her firmly as I brush her aside and continue walking. She catches up to me a short time later, wearing an almost thoughtful frown.
"If you say so..." Immediately, she flashes her million-watt smile again. "Oh, Musashi-chan! You do remember the party tomorrow night, don't you?"
"Party?" I ask weakly, trying to remember but failing.
"Silly! The party tomorrow night at 7:00! It's just for our café's employees and their husbands or wives. I've always wanted to meet your husband... He's cute, isn't he?"
I don't like the direction her train of thought has taken, so I try derailing it by replying rather curtly, "I don't know. We may have something else to do."
"Oh... A... alright... I've got to turn here, so I suppose I'll know if I see you tomorrow! Bye!" Keiko giggles, comically throwing me a kiss before she runs off. Some other time I might have smiled. This time I find myself grinding my teeth together to keep from screaming in annoyance. I have the feeling that the next person to cross my path is going to catch hell, thanks to this horrible mood I've repressed all day.
Unfortunately, the only person left to cross my path today is my beloved Kojiro.
"Musashi-san... You're late today," Kojiro says respectfully when I drag my tired body through the apartment door. As already stated, however, I am in no mood to play with him.
"I had to clean up something extra," I mutter as an explanation, pushing past him to head toward the bedroom. Lucky for him, he only hesitates a moment before he goes into the kitchen. I can only assume he has even made tea already, from the smell that is drifting from that direction. Once in the room, I waste no time in stripping off my sweaty waitress' "costume" and throwing on the oldest pair of pants and shirt I own. I ponder whether or not I should just go to bed now without eating. My stomach makes up my mind for me.
Kojiro sits fidgeting at the table when I enter, then jumps up to take me by the hand and lead me to my chair as if I couldn't have done it myself. In typical fashion, he has already prepared supper and it sits steaming in front of me. Without pausing to reflect on the fact that he does so much for me like I usually do, I grab my chopsticks and violently attack my pile of rice. Kojiro blinks at the rate at which I eat, and actually eats much slower than normal.
I finish in short order and start sipping my tea more slowly. Over the rim of my cup, I see Kojiro frowning pensively at me over his own half-eaten food; when he notices me watching, he begins talking about something or other, maybe about some project he's working on. I tune his words out to a dull buzz, and find myself becoming increasingly annoyed. After all, doesn't he realize how tired I am? How lucky he is that he stays home all day? What a God-awful day I've had? And as I wonder these things, my temper gets the best of me. Before I can stop it, my hand shoots out to slap my darling Kojiro as hard as I can across his face.
This produces the desired effect, of course, with a few drawbacks. He is now utterly silent, like I had wanted, but he also stares at me with a shocked expression. Now I carefully avoid looking at him, so as not to see the hurt in his eyes or the red handprint burning starkly against the pale flesh of his cheek. Because if I looked, I would begin to feel sorry. And for some reason, I felt like I needed to be mad.
I stand and leave without a word to curl up on the futon by myself, listening to the sounds of Kojiro cleaning up in the kitchen. He even washes the dishes, something he normally would have put off until the next day. I only consider apologizing for a moment. I am still far too angry at my day for that.
Eventually, Kojiro comes to stand in the doorway and I decide that it's now time for bed. Ignoring him completely, I simply flop down on my back on the bed, not bothering to even change clothes. Kojiro comes in after a minute and takes his time in removing his own clothes. When he climbs into bed beside me, I can feel his eyes on me, the sad look I know must be on his face. Not wanting to talk to him, I roll onto my side and feel myself beginning to tire almost immediately. I also choose to ignore the fact that I know he is crying with his face buried in the pillow, by the muffled choking noises I hear occasionally. Sleep still comes quickly, and soon I am lost deep within it.
The clock brightly announces that it is 6:00 a.m. I roll over to stretch my arms and exhale, "Ahh... What a good night's sleep." Turning to the side, I give Kojiro a gentle poke in the ribs and he bolts upright, staring at me with huge, bloodshot eyes.
"Kojiro-chan... You didn't sleep so well, did you? But come on, you have to go jogging with me today, you know that." I wrap my arms around his neck to give him a gentle kiss; when he doesn't respond, I sit back and look at him as I stroke my fingers along the back of his hand.
"Kojiro? What's wrong? Why..." And then I remember yesterday, what I had done to this man that I love so much when he hadn't deserved a bit of it. I guess that this new day, with no trials in it yet, had improved my mood. But I still had to live with what I had done.
I hug my husband close to me and tell him everything, apologizing a thousand times over for treating him so badly. "I didn't know what I could have done to make you so mad..." he whispers to me slowly after I am finished.
"It wasn't your fault at all," I sigh back, feeling utterly frustrated with myself. Pulling away for a moment, I see that a few tears are working their way down his face. I brush them away and give a feeble attempt at scolding him for crying. When that falls flat, I just continue tracing my fingers softly along his face.
"You know... Why don't we just forget about our run today... You look so tired, let's just go back to sleep."
"I love you, Musashi."
His unexpected words hang in the air for an instant and I find myself wanting to cry now, too. "And I love you... my Kojiro..."
I would have recognized the need in his eyes right then even without the way I could feel his heart beating hard and fast through his chest, or the way his hands had begun to move urgently at my clothing. I don't hold myself back from him; instead, I merely succumb to the press of his lips against mine, the gentle rythm of his movements as I am united with him into what seems like one body.
"Aww, Musashi! This thing is choking me! Do I have to wear it?"
"Stop moving! Yes, it's a party, so you have to look nice." I am actually of the opinion that Kojiro looks nice in his everyday clothes, but the dark suit - the only one that he has - that I have made him put on makes him look very handsome. It's too bad he doesn't feel the same way, with the way he is scowling into the mirror and yanking his collar visciously at the same time.
"I don't like it," he mumbles, confirming my suspicions. I finish adjusting his tie and move around behind him to peek over his shoulder at the reflection in the mirror.
"But you look so nice..." I sigh with pleasure, wrapping my arms around his middle.
"I don't care if it looks nice or not," he grumbles into the mirror. Pursing my lips at the reflection of his face, I reach down to pinch his backside. He turns around with a yelp to glower at me. "What was that for?"
"For being such a brat," I smile at him as I pat his cheek gently. "Now, you just sit down while I go change."
"Why can't I watch?"
"Because." The only other reason I give him is a calculated look that promises more than just a pinch this time if he doesn't do it. Wisely, he does as he's told.
I smile again as I shut the door behind him. It had been a bit of a struggle to get him to agree to the party, but in the end, as usual, my reasoning had won out. I wouldn't have dreamed of going without him. Not that I wanted to flaunt him in front of Keiko or anything. No, of course not. But still, won't she be jealous...
I only allow myself to smirk a little as I hurriedly put on my dress. The reason I hadn't wanted Kojiro to watch was because I had wanted to suprise him. The dress is a beautiful dark blue, sleeveless with a long, flowing skirt that trails around me in soft waves.. It had also belonged to my mother once, long ago, and Kojiro had never seen it before. As I smooth it over my hips, I nod in satisfaction. It fits me now so beautifully.
I slip on my shoes and peek through the door at Kojiro, still pouting to himself on the futon. With a grin, I sweep out and over to him, noting the suprised expression on his face. I nestle myself onto his lap and lean up against his chest, my grin growing ever wider. "So?" I ask teasingly.
"Maybe this party will be alright after all," he whispers once he has regained the ability to speak.
"How's that?" I whisper back.
"I'll have the most beautiful girl there." He begins to plant soft kisses along my throat, and after some time I realize that we may never get to the party if this goes on much longer.
"Kojiro... We need to go."
"Aww, Musashi!"
"Later, Kojiro-chan. Behave yourself, or there will be no later." He sets me gracefully on my feet and stands up to offer me his arm.
"Alright then... Shall we?"
I have always liked to think of myself as a social person. It's true that I love parties, which may be the reason I decided to come to this one. Kojiro and I are standing just inside the door of the café, and he is staring at everything in a wide-eyed manner. He has never been here before, and is no doubt simply interested in the place where I work. I squeeze the arm I am still holding possessively, as though to show everyone that I own him.
At that moment, another waitress comes over to us with a smile. Meira is a gentle woman with a pleasant voice, one of the nicer employees. "Nice to see you here, Musashi. And this must be your husband." The two exchange greetings, and Meira turns back to me with an amused expression. "Why are you still with your husband?"
"Still with... What do you mean?"
"Guess no one told you," she chuckles lightly. "At this party, we're promoting getting to know someone else better. That's why, instead of spending the next few hours with your husband, you need to spend them with someone else."
"Are you also promoting infidelity at this party?" I mutter sarcastically before she is finished.
"What?"
"Nothing. I don't know... I guess..." From the look on his face, Kojiro is just as skeptical about this as I am.
"Oh, you'll be just fine! Just go meet someone new," Meira continues, all but pushing the two of us apart and into the crowd. Maybe I don't like her so much after all. When I look for Kojiro, however, I finally spot him already sitting at a table with...
I blink a few times to make sure I'm seeing clearly. Keiko? I could have killed her.
She is wearing some tiny pink outfit that could have passed for a handkerchief rather than a dress. And to make it worse, Kojiro is leaning forward and talking quite animatedly to her about who knows what. Now I feel anger boiling up in me again. I'll teach him to make me jealous.
I grab the arm of the first person that passes me, and am rewarded with a tall man, his short, black hair slightly curling around his dark blue eyes. He isn't too badly built either. In short, the kind of guy I might have been attracted to before I met Kojiro.
Since I don't recognize him, I assume that he is the husband of some other employee. But we neither exchange names or associations, even though I can tell he is appreciative of my appearance. I simply pull him into the crowd of people now dancing to gentle music, which is where I spend the next two hours, talking a little and even flirting lightly. Once when I look for Kojiro, he is still in the same spot, looking right back at me with a confused and worried face; Keiko is obviously trying to get him to talk to her to no avail. The second time he is just staring glumly at his feet while Keiko sits looking as though she has given up all hope.
Eventually I decide that he must have learned his lesson by now, and it is time for us to go. Saying goodbye to my "companion", I slip over to the table and give Keiko a suitable smile. "Kojiro, we had better be going."
"Ohh, Musashi-chan! This is your husband?" Keiko squeals excitedly, jumping up and nearly falling out of her handkerchief dress in the process. "He's sooo cute... But he doesn't say much," she concludes to me in a whisper. I just smile again, take Kojiro's arm, and steer him out into the starry night.
After several minutes, I say, "So. Enjoy yourself with that little tramp?"
"What about you? That man was much more good-looking than me... Didn't you want to stay longer with him?"
I stop and stare at him in disbelief until I see his point. "Kojiro... What were you talking about with Keiko?"
"I was just telling her about my job," he replies with a shrug.
I nod. It makes sense - I know how passionate he is about what he does. And what had I been doing? Acting like a complete fool. "Kojiro... I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what?" he asks, leaning closer to me. I shift my feet uncomfortably, a little unused to him putting pressure on me. It's usually the other way around.
"Sorry I didn't trust you," I sigh.
"Oh, Musa-chan... You know that I love you," he smiles at me. I only wish I could be so forgiving so quickly the way he is.
"Anyway..." I say as we continue walking. "What did you think of Keiko?"
"Oh..." he replies reflectively. "She talked too much. But the dress was cute."
This time I pinch him with a vengeance. "Oww!" he cries, rubbing the seat of his pants as I fold my arms menacingly. Then he grins at me. "Touché. But really, I was imagining you in it the whole time. That reminds me, you owe me something."
"Oh really?"
"You said that... later..."
"Yeah, well, I might have changed my mind."
"But that's not fair! What's so bad about calling a dress cute?"
I lunge at him, miss, and he takes off running. "I'm sorry, Musashi!" he calls back over his shoulder. I find myself running after him and laughing in spite of myself, not even caring how many people hear.
Even with all the trials involved... isn't love something wonderful?
