Ouch. "Then why all the concern? Why the 'game plans'? Why bother covering for me with Obari-sama? Why bother telling me any of this at all? What's in it for you?"
"Why must you always question my every motive?" "Well I don't know. Maybe because you hate me?" Duh. For a few moments, Kakeru just stared at her. At first Keiko tried not to shirk under his gaze, but eventually gave into the need to look away. Wow the tile in this floor is fascinating! She was suddenly startled by Kakeru's shadow appearing in front of her, as he'd managed to silently close the gap between them. He's like a cat or something. I wonder how he'd feel about a little bell around his neck? She looked up to meet his gaze, only to find Kakeru staring at the exact tile she'd found so interesting only seconds prior. She noted, with surprise, that his cheeks were on fire. "Listen to me carefully, because this is the only time I will ever say this." He started, still not meeting her eyes. "I don't hate you." At that admission, Keiko opened her mouth to respond but Kakeru continued curtly, "And before you say anything else, don't." Am I more surprised at what he just said, or that he said it? She wondered to herself. Kakeru took her silence as opportunity to look up from the floor, but at the sight of her perplexed look, he snapped. "Does everything always need to be spelled out for you?" And with that, he grabbed her right wrist, and started dragging her down the hallway. "Fine. You want slave-girl? You can be slave-girl. Come on." It was all Keiko could do, to follow along dumbly, left arm flailing and mouth hanging open, unspeaking. What in the heck is going on?~*~*~*~
Keiko guessed their final destination long before reaching the music hall. Not that Kakeru had been any help. When she'd finally regained the power of speech and asked "Where are you taking me?" she'd only received the flip response of: "Slaves are to be seen and not heard. Please do be quiet. Your mouth flapping is slowing us down." Jerk. When they entered the hall, Kakeru didn't bother to switch on the lights. He yanked Keiko straight to the piano, depositing her on an adjacent chair, while he took his place in front of the keyboard. Keiko's eyes weren't even allowed to adjust before the hall was filled with sound. Kakeru was playing a beautiful, haunting song she'd never heard before. I hope he isn't planning on playing this for the concert. It's too sad! The lack of light only compounded the effect and she found herself filled with melancholy. She sat entranced for over a minute, when suddenly Kakeru's key switched from minor to major; his tempo from slow to fast… the melody, so different. The transition was made smooth by his expertise, but it was unconventional and sudden enough for Keiko to suspect he wasn't playing anything mainstream. Could he have written this? Could he be making it up as he goes? The new melody seemed to fill the dark room with light. Or is it just my eyes adjusting? Lively staccato and bright melody filled her with warmth. Amused, Keiko decided if anyone ever ventured to make a movie of her life, she'd want this song as her theme. Then Kakeru changed the song one final time. Not having a particularly well-trained ear, it took Keiko several moments to place the change. It had not changed drastically from "her" tune, but it was richer; it was more thrilling. And then she realized: it was her theme, intertwined with the initial theme he had played for her. They were so different; she'd never have thought one would harmonize so well with the other. And it was so nice to hear the initial theme in a cheerier, major key. She was in total awe of Kakeru. That he could make music so soulful, she actually found herself personifying it (feeling sorry for it, even) astounded her. She realized she was taking it far too seriously, but she couldn't help herself! It was almost as if he'd created little people, just for her to bond with. Who would have thought all Super-Sad-Song needed to buck up, was a little playtime with The-Keiko-Song! She grinned to herself, a little shamed by her silliness, when all of a sudden, Kakeru's words echoed in her mind: "Does everything always need to be spelled out for you?" No… it couldn't be… And to Keiko's horror, Kakeru chose that exact moment to stop playing, and she could only think of one thing to say. "Was the message for me, this time?" She practically squeaked. She wasn't sure if she'd ever been so nervous around him before. Kakeru didn't turn to face her, but he sat up perfectly straight and answered her with the confidence that always shone brightest when he'd finished playing: "They always have been." Keiko could have sworn her heart skipped a beat at his admission. She also swore she could feel a charge building up in the room. She tried to think of a response, but Kakeru wasn't finished. Rising from his seat, he started to pace around the room. "I just thought… I mean…" It looked as if Kakeru was about to chicken out, but he quickly regained his composure and continued, "You seem to think I have some sort of ulterior motive. And lately you seem to doubt your place here. And I just thought I should tell you…" He finally turned to look at her and finished, "You've added more dimension to my life than I thought possible, and I'm not sure I'm ready for you to not be here." And with that, he took in a sigh of relief, walked back to his piano, and slumped against it, all the while looking very pleased with himself. And Keiko's thought? Was that speech supposed to be romantic? If so, he could use some serious pointers. And then the more alarming: Oh my god. Did I want it to be romantic? And finally, gaining some perspective: Could I have really helped him as much as his song said? Keiko stood and took her turn to pace around the room. Then she turned, and with a playful swagger in her gait, she made a beeline right for Kakeru. When she stood less than a foot away she teased, "So, the worthless, do-nothing, Kei Fushige has managed to make an impact on the great Shiranui-sama's life?" She poked him in the stomach for emphasis. Kakeru rolled his eyes and responded in a bored tone, "That's a gross exaggeration." "What, impact?" she chortled, looking skyward. Typical. He waited until he caught her eye again before responding, "No, worthless." At that moment, Keiko wondered, on a scale of tickled-pink to rose-red, exactly what color her face was. Thankfully it was dark enough that Kakeru didn't appear to notice. Being called beautiful or having a picture someone fell in love with… They just don't compare; not to not being worthless. Keiko knew she should let it rest at that; no need to push Kakeru past his generous mood. But Anji's words echoed in her brain: Impulsive. Irrational. Careless. Crazy. Brain-dead. She needed reassurance, from the last person she'd ever expected it from. "Then how about impulsive?" She asked casually. "Spontaneous," Kakeru countered. She immediately followed up, "Irrational?" "Unpredictable." He countered back more quickly, as if they were playing a game. "Careless!" "Caring!" "Crazy." She stated, flashing him a "so there" look. And for a moment, Keiko thought she'd won. But then Kakeru looked directly at her… and smiled. Not a smirk, not a sneer, not wry, nor ironic; it was a genuine, kind smile. It was an image that made Keiko wonder how she could have ever mistaken Obari for the handsomer of the two. "Hmmm," He started in mock contemplation, "No, I think we'd have to go to with 'completely insane' on that one." "Touché," Keiko responded before finishing with, "brain-dead?" "Keiko, why do you torture yourself like this?" Kakeru asked gently, but his exasperation showed. He was tired of the game. "Don't have one for brain-dead, huh?" She wasn't able to mask the disappointment in her voice. What am I doing? Trying to drag compliments out of Kakeru? How on earth was I dumb enough to send him an invitation to my pity party? I-- Keiko's train of thought was interrupted by a very quiet, very meek response: "Adorable." "What?" was the only response she could muster. "What, what? I didn't say anything," Kakeru answered, looking away. But Keiko had heard it. She'd heard everything… that this talented, beautiful, young man saw her as something more than a worthless, albeit attractive, girly girl. Truly grateful, she completely closed the gap between them, placing a chaste kiss on Kakeru's lips. She pulled away a second later, looked him in the eyes, and said, "Thank you," before turning and walking away. She didn't get far, however. In movements so quick and fluid, she couldn't even be sure what order they happened in… a hand wrapped around her wrist, her propelling backwards then forwards, a hand on the small of her back supporting her, her glasses on the piano instead of on her nose, a hand on her face and in her hair, Kakeru's face centimeters from hers. Keiko realized the charge she'd felt in the room had never completely dissipated, as it was back in full force. In the little light present in the room, Kakeru's eyes shone clearly visible, pleading for permission. Whether she gave it, or he simply didn't wait for it, she couldn't be sure, because his mouth descended on hers a split second later. Two things surprised Keiko. The first being, as soon as they'd made contact, with her top lip resting ever-so lightly between his own lips, he held perfectly still, his eyes closed tightly. The second thing that surprised her, was that she was the one to continue the kiss, pulling back slightly only to meet him again. Apparently he had waited for her permission after all. Once she'd given it, Kakeru dropped all restraint, kissing her again and again, shorter kisses melting into longer, deeper ones. This wasn't the awkward Kakeru who couldn't ask a flirty girl to a café; this was the confident, passionate Kakeru who plays beautiful music. Keiko found herself secretly hoping that she was the only girl that had ever gotten to kiss this Kakeru.Suddenly, with a twinge of disappointment, Keiko found herself able to breathe again. Kakeru had completely removed his mouth from her line of vision. She was relieved when she realized he'd just decided to move his ministrations elsewhere. Using one hand to tug at the neck of her pajamas and the other to brush her hair away from her neck, Kakeru showered the back and side of her neck with kisses. "The short hair… definitely… better," he said against her skin. "Definitely," she agreed, surprised by the breathiness in her own voice. Keiko gasped when Kakeru started focusing all his intention on the tender part of her flesh where collarbone and neck seemed to meet, kissing, nipping and lightly sucking. "What are you doing?" she asked. "Insuring you don't wear anything skimpier than a turtleneck for the next few days unless you're willing to let other people see my mark," was his response. Keiko knew she should be offended by his possessiveness; shocked at how primal and uncharacteristic it was. But strangely, it made her feel safe. And what he was doing felt too good to try to stop. And then he returned his attentions to the nape of her neck, surprisingly strong arm holding her tightly against his chest. "I know you might only still be here to stay close to Otaru or Obari," he started, "but I want you to know, regardless of the reason… as long as you choose to stay, I'll do everything I can to protect you." And with that, he returned to lavishing butterfly kisses on her neck and shoulders. Otaru-who? Obari-what? Keiko wondered in a daze. No one else mattered now. Despite all his faults, Kakeru was an amazing person. He was an amazing person who apparently, thought her amazing too, despite (or because of?) her faults, too. He wants to take care of me. He wants to protect me And if this is how he plans to do it, how can I argue? "--Private." Keiko was startled out of her revelry by Kakeru's husky whisper. "Huh?" "I said," he placed another kiss on the back of her neck before continuing. "Would you care to take this somewhere more private?" His breath was hot on her ear, and she could hardly be expected to give a coherent response once he started nibbling gently on her earlobe, or once his long fingers started grazing across her bare stomach under her pajama top. It was just too much sensation. She couldn't help it, and let out a soft moan. Oh god... Encouraged by her responding to him and also impatient for an answer, Kakeru spun Keiko around to face him again and secured her tightly around the waist with both his arms. "Well?" Kakeru's gentle inquiry was in deep contrast to the intense look in his eyes. They were shining with need… desire… and something else? Something more tender? At that moment Keiko wondered what it was he saw in her eyes; what he was staring so intently at… because even she wasn't sure. A dark music room in the middle of the night was plenty private for almost all intents and purposes. It was clear that whatever she said would be in response to a question that hadn't actually been uttered. Am I seriously contemplating something like this with a guy I wasn't sure I even liked a day ago? Finally though, she had her answer. "Kakeru, I--" "Pork chop sandwiches!" "Huh?" Keiko blinked furiously, trying to gain her bearings. "Ma… sandwiches… and pie! I'm hungry after a match." Anji.