Chimamire Namida

Chimamire Namida Ch. 4 - "Kuichigau Aida Ni Kanjo"
By Shawna

"I don't want to baby-sit for Kaiba anymore."
Miaka turned to regard her daughter. Ayumi kept her chin up, not bowing under the glare her mother gave her.
"Why not?" Miaka asked.
"Being at his house makes me uncomfortable," Ayumi said easily. She had rehearsed this in her mind.
"Why?"
"Because this other gu-" Suddenly Ayumi did not want to tell her mother about Jou. She had had every intention of telling her mother about how Jou acted, but not about what they had done, but she had a vision of her mother screaming, telling her it was her own fault if guys wanted her, since she acted like such a whore all the time.
"This other what?"
"Uhm," Ayumi hesitated, unsure of how to save herself from this. "This other girl wants to baby-sit for Kaiba now."
Miaka's gaze turned to one of disgust. "What?" She asked angrily. "What do I care if some other girl wants to baby-sit for Kaiba? Why are you so willing to just bend over and let other people take things from you? I swear, Ayumi, I tried to raise you to be like me, but you just didn't turn out right."
Ayumi dropped her gaze, wondering why she had not found it in her to tell her mother about what was happening. She swallowed hard, fighting her anger.
"I'm sorry, mother," she said softly before turning to leave the room. Miaka did not stop her, and Ayumi went quickly to her bedroom, feeling angry at her mother as much as at herself.
Her cell phone was ringing when she arrived in her room. She hurried to her backpack and fished out the tiny phone. 'Unidentified Caller' flashed on the screen at her, and a bit confused, she answered it.
"Moshi-moshi," she said curiously into the phone.
"Ayumi! How are you?"
"Katsuya?"
Jou laughed on the other end of the line. "Are you back to calling me that, even after what we shared?" Ayumi did not answer. "Well, anyway," Jou continued. "Seto told me to call you and verify that you'll be over tomorrow night."
"Did he really?" Ayumi asked suspiciously.
"No," Jou said without hesitation. "But it sounded good, huh?"
"How did you get this number?"
"From Seto's phone list."
"Did you have permission to be looking at that?"
"No, again, Ayumi. I can't get anything past you, can I? Look, I have to go, but I'll see you tomorrow night."
"Katsuya," she said quickly. "I don't think you should..." The call had already been disconnected. Growling softly in frustration, Ayumi put the phone back into her book bag. Her mother's voice rang down the hall.
"Are you talking to yourself or what in there? Shouldn't you be doing homework?"
"I'm doing it, mother!" Ayumi called, hastily pulling a book out of her bag in case her mom came in to check on her. Her stomach felt funny, and she was suddenly replaying the whole scene when Jou had kissed her in her mind. Immediately after it had happened, she had tried to think of anything else, had felt ashamed, embarrassed. Now the thought made her heart beat a little faster, her stomach feel light. Apprehension and anticipation mingled in her mind, dancing around each other evasively, never one taking control. Neither of the feelings left her for the rest of the night.
The following evening, Ayumi showed up on Seto's doorstep as planned, full of jitters. Mokuba answered the door cheerfully.
"Hello, Katana," he said, opening the door wider. "Come in."
Ayumi wondered at his formality as she stepped into the house. She realized the cause of it when she went into the sitting room and found that Kaiba was still there, sitting in a large, comfortable-looking chair, reading something over with a pair of wire-framed glasses seated low on his nose.
"Kaiba," Katana said, a little surprised. "I didn't expect you to still be here."
"Well, I won't be for long," he said, not looking up from the paper in his hand. "I just wanted to tell you that if Jou comes over, tell him he has to leave as soon as you put Mokuba to bed."
"Uhm, alright," Katana said hesitantly, a little unsure what exactly Kaiba meant or was implying. "I thought you didn't want him over at all."
Now Kaiba's eyes did leave the paper, as he peered at her over the frames of his glasses. "Apparently," he said slowly. "It doesn't matter if that’s what I want, because that isn't what has been happening. So I decided to cut him, and you, I might addlittlittle slack."
Ayumi did not know what to say, and so she said nothing, as Kaiba straightened the papers, lifted a briefcase from the floor and placed them inside. Rising from the chair in a fluid motion, he went to Mokuba, leaned down and embraced the much smaller boy warmly.
"Behave yourself, Ototo," he said gently.
"I will," Mokuba whispered in response.
Ayumi felt a stirring in her chest at their show of genuine affection. Never had anyone spoken like that to her; never had she been embraced that way. It did not seem she would ever that, because as much as Jou tried to sweet talk (and failed miserably), nothing about him seemed genuine, and yet she was drawn to him regardless. Surely, it made no sense to care for someone who, it seemed, had no capacity to care themselves.
"You should behave yourself, too," Seto said in a low voice as he breezed by Ayumi on his way out. She had been musing, had not even noticed him rise, and was startled.
"Of course," she said without thinking about. Seto smirked and disappeared from the room. A moment later, the front door opened and closed with a bang. Ayumi took a deep breath, just then realizing that her chest had gone tight during her time with Kaiba. She willed herself to relax, not fully understanding her reaction.
"Yay!" Mokuba exclaimed abruptly, startling Ayumi again. "Now Jou can come over and I don't have to worry about Seto getting angry!"
Ayumi plastered a pleasant smile onto her face. "Yeah," she said. "Great."
Sure enough, Jou showed up not long after this, giddy and smiling as always. Still trying to be pleasant, Ayumi greeted him with a grin, but it was awkward seeing him now, because she knew that he knew he had staked his claim on virgin territory, and would probably want to take it further with her sometime soon.
The day passed fairly uneventfully, however, and Ayumi had begun to relax, until Mokuba announced that he was tired and was going to bed.
"Oh," Ayumi said, feeling a warm thrill shoot through her. "Goodnight, then."
Mokuba said his goodnights and left the room. His footsteps sounded on the stairs, faintly down the hall, and then his bedroom door shut.
"You're supposed to leave now, Katsuya," Ayumi said quietly.
"Yeah," Jou said slowly. "But you already know that I'm not going to."
Ayumi said nothing; she had expected this. Jou moved closer to her on the couch.
"And you already know why I'm staying," he said, in a breathy, hushed voice.
"Yes," she whispered back, feeling alternately cold and hot all over. Another deep breath, another tightening in her chest; Ayumi felt almost ill, and yet exhilarated.
Jou turned her to face him and before she could even raise her eyes to meet his, pressed his lips down on hers. Her eyes instinctively closed, but she responded, kissing Jou back. His hands trailed down her neck, and pushed back her jacket before moving to the buttons of her blouse. Her initial urge was to push him away, but she checked herself, and did not. She liked the attention Jou showered on her; liked how he seemed to desire her so much. It made her feel beautiful, feel wanted, feel as if she were worth something...
Jou pushed her back on the couch, his hands finishing with the buttons of her blouse and spreading it open. One of his hands moved up her leg, under her skirt, and her hips bucked and she cried out into his mouth as his hand ped bed between her legs. No one had ever touched her there, and it was nothing like when she touched herself. Jou's touch shot a lightning bolt through her whole body; she went tense all over. He drew his head back, smirking.
"You're so responsive," he said huskily, as if this fact greatly pleased him. He placed another kiss on her mouth and then moved down, flipping her skirt up. His hands gripped the sides of her panties, pulling them down.
"Oh, Jou, don't," she said, instinctively trying to sit up, noticing how the tone of her voice, though her words were in the negative, seemed to be saying "yes, please, go for it."
Jou leveled his hand on her chest and pushed her back down to the couch. "Trust me, akachan, you'll like this." He pulled her panties down around her ankles, pulled them off on one side but left the other on, tangled just above her left shoe, over her knee-high sock. "Virgin white panties," he said, glancing at them. "I like."
Ayumi felt a blush come to her cheeks. "Jou, you're embarrassing me."
His hands gripped her ankles and spread her legs wide. Immediately, a wave of heat came to her cheeks and she tried to push her skirt back down.
"Don't look,” she said desperately.
Jou laughed and gripped her wrist, moving her hand aside, pushing her skirt back up. "What are you ashamed of? Got a piercing down here, or what?" He laughed again, still holding one of her wrists. Pressing her other hand to her mouth, Ayumi bit at her fingernail tips and closed her eyes again, embarrassment washing over her. She felt Jou lean down, and she cried out weakly as his lips touched just below the waistband of her flipped-up skirt. The muscles in her stomach tightened, twitched under that ticklish touch, but it did not feel entirely unpleasant. Jou's tongue traced a light pattern across her sto and and then moved down, lower and lower, until...
Ayumi bit her fingernails hard to avoid crying out so loud that it probably would have awakened Mokuba. Her eyes flew open, and all the colors in the room danced before her, vibrant and swimming. She realized that tears were forming in her eyes, though she had no idea why. She became aware of every sensation: Jou's hands gripping her lightly under her knees, holding her legs open, the warmth of his back under her ankles (though she could not remember when she had bent her knees and put her ankles there), every breath he took, the light still on, shining down in her eyes, which were fixed on the ceiling. And, of course, the ultimate sensation, the one thing she had thought about in her deepest dreams, had never thought she would actually be brave enough to let someone do. Jou's tongue was warm, moist, and seemed so experienced as it moved against her. It did not occur to her to think of where this experience had come from. She was not thinking clearly, she had allowed herself to become lost in feeling only.
In his bedroom up the stairs, Mokuba had the sudden need for a glass of water. He rose slowly from bed, wondering if Seto would be home yet, so he could tell his big brother goodnight and give him a hug. He was sad when he had to go to sleep without seeing his oniisan.
Closing the door gentehinehind him so as not to alert Katana to the fact that he was out of bed, he crept slowly down the stairs, toward the kitchen. He would not have even looked into the main room, where the TV was, if not for the sound of Ayumi panting, and making soft sounds. Confused, he peeked in the doorway of the room.
Ayumi was laying on her back on the couch. Her hands were up, behind her head, and she was moaning and writhing. Her shirt was open and her skirt up; Jou's head was between her legs while his hands held them apart. For a few moments, Mokuba stared. He was not so young that he did not understand what he was seeing, he understood it perfectly well, but he was confused by it. Ayumi had told him time and time again that she did not like Jou, and of course, Jou was supposed to be Seto's boyfriend. Though no one had ever said this, Mokuba had been able to figure it out on his own just by the way Seto and Jou looked at each other, the way they touched each other. So, Ayumi and Jou being together made no sense in his head, but here it was, right before him, plain as day, especially since they had not bothered to turn out the light. Mokuba turned to go back up the stairs, his thirst forgotten, but found his eyes drawn back to the two on the couch. He knew what Jou and Seto did together, he knew what girls and boys did. He had seen his fair share of hentai. But this was real life, this was happening right before him, with two people he knew. He did not want to stop watching.
Ayumi suddenly went tense all over, her back arching convulsively. She cried out, apparently not caring if Mokuba heard her or not. Of course, he could see her, though obviously she did not know this, so it did not matter either way. Shudders wracked her body, and dimly, Mokuba knew what had just happened as she collapsed back onto the couch, panting. Smirking, Jou moved back up, leveling his face with hers.
"Well, how was that? I'd say you're ready now." He positioned his hips between Ayumi's thighs. She heard him undoing his fly, and all at once fear rushed up in her, a definite sense that this was not what she wanted to happen.
"No!" She cried, pressing her hands against Jou's shoulders, pushing him back. His eyes went wide, startled. He got off of her as though she had suddenly become a nest of vipers.
"No," she repeated, softer now that the moment had ended. "Jou..." Tears welled in her eyes, and she sat up, and suddenly found herself clinging to him.
"Jou," she repeated, in full out sobs now. "Jou, I'm so sorry. You were right, I'm scared. I'm so scared. I need time, I need you to go slow, but I do want you, I do," she said all this in one breath, and then burst into sobs again. Awkwardly, Jou put his arms around her and held her.
If Ayumi could have seen Jou's face, she would have seen what Mokuba was now marveling at: the annoyance, the frustration bordering on anger that was playing across Jou's features. Though he was holding her tenderly, even speaking soothing words, his face showed how he really felt about all this. Mokuba had seen enough; he went quietly back up the stairs to his room.
An hour or so later, when Seto arrived home, Jou was gone and Ayumi was sitting primly on the couch, staring at the blank screen of the turned off television. For a moment, Seto wondered at this; he could see by the faint redness in her eyes that she had cried at some point this night, cried hard. Something like sympathy washed over him; she looked so forlorn, as if someone had told her that her parents had disowned her, her house had burned down, and her cat had died.
Ayumi did not hear his approach, and jumped a bit when Seto laid his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, but did not speak. He saw the fear in her eyes, fear of him. Normally, he liked that look, loved it in fact, but at the moment it made him sad. He did not want her fear just then.
"Ayumi," he said awkwardly. Are you okay? hung on his lips, but instead he simply said, "You can go now."
She nodded absently, and turned away from him. She fetched her backpack off the ground and made wordlessly for the hall to call her mother. Seto briefly considered going after it, but decided against it. He did feel somewhat concerned, but he instantly put this feeling down, determining not to go soft. Memories of times he had sat in this room, on different furniture but still in this room, with that same puffy redness around his eyes, that same derelict look on his face, surfaced in his mind. For a moment, Seto thought he might start to cry just then. But the memories were put down as quickly as his concern had been; he pressed them hard into the back of his mind and forgot them. Silently, he went up the stairs, not even waiting to hear Ayumi leave, like he usually did.

*To Be Continued*