Only Almost Here

Title: Only Almost Here
Rating: R
Author: SummerStars – but y’all know I like Lell better.
Betaed by: Whistle down the Wind – thanks again sweetie

Warnings: Very brief lemon, more like a very mild lime actually – I felt it would ruin the mood I was trying to create if I went too deep into it. Well, next lemon should be more descriptive. ~Looks apprehensive~

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There were times when I loved being a girl.

There was always that blissful period when you were about thirteen or so when you suddenly realised that, yes, those icky guys who pulled your hair and laughed over crass comments had suddenly transformed into the most desirable things you had ever seen. The same boy who cut off all your Barbie’s head when you were younger was now the desirable guy you watched with glowing eyes as he passed you in the hall.

Those were the days when you and your friends sat giggling around one of those glitter spangled, glossy paged magazines you were willing to spend your week’s worth of pocket money on. When you would look at the latest teen heart throb, you’d sigh and flutter. You’d guffaw over those cringeworthy secrets and gossip excitedly over that super, fabulous, beauty in a pot guaranteed product. But the last few pages were always the most anticipated. You would all look with a kind of fascinated disgust at the blazing page title of ‘Sex’ and then all eyes would turn to that perfect girl in your group, the Queen Bee.

AKA, the one, the only one who had a boyfriend.

She would blush prettily, but at the same time straighten her back, offering a wise, condescending smile to you poor, inexperienced workers.

“You’d have to be really in love to do that,” she would say, jabbing a neatly manicured finger at that one word of taboo printed so boldly on the double sheet in front of you. “To take that step.”

You’d all nod along, drinking in her words with gusto, a sort of awkward silence hanging over all of you as your eyes turned automatically back to the magazine while you all struggled to think of something mature to say.

“It must be weird…” one of you would venture in a hushed voice. “To actually…you know…”

You all did know and you’d giggle with a naughty little pleasure coming from talking on such a subject.

“You’ll know when you’re ready, you just know,” would be the wise words from the Queen Bee, words which would start little fireblazings of whisperings. How would she know? Did that mean that she knew on first hand basis?

“Well…whenever I feel ready to, you know, take that step,” another of you would pipe up, eager and bright eyed to contribute, even slightly breathless from all that embarrassed giggling. “I want it to be special!”

Everyone – you and your friends would chorus your enthusiastic agreement. This was easier to talk about. This was romance.

“Only do it with someone you know you love – that way, it’s….special!”

“Exactly and you have to be ready – you can’t let him force you into it.”

“I heard it hurts…”

“It only hurts if you don’t love him – if you’re both in love you should trust each other enough to relax.”

“But you’d have to use a condom!”

“Ewwww!” On that unanimous squeal of a mixture of laughter, screams and exuberance, the conversation would fall apart as you all fell about.

It was all so easy then – in your mind you could resist any peer pressure, fall in love with the perfect guy and then, when the time was right, you would make sweet, passionate, gentle love together and everything would be perfect at that moment when you became a woman.

What he hell happened to that?

Virginity and losing it – it was supposed to be beautiful, tender and painless. And most of all, it was supposed to be loving! With someone you loved. It wasn’t supposed to be some drunken fumble with a guy you hated.

Forgive me Lord, for I have sinned…

I did try to resist, honest! But when I was looking up through the cloud of absinth induced haziness and sheer confusion, all I could see were those endless oceans of azure, enough blue so that you could drown in it and I was sinking helplessly. My limbs were uncoordinated, my body turning against me – the hand I sent out to push him away ended up grabbing onto his shirt, pulling him in desperately, the leg I aimed to kick him with hooked around the backs of his knees, effectively pulling us down to the slickly smooth satin sheets which seemed to have come out of no-where.

When my body turned traitor, I tried to reason with him, explain why this was a bad idea, explain why it was wrong! Instead, every time I opened my mouth, Kaiba would turn traitor and swallow my pleas, tongue flickering around the insides of my mouth until I was breathless, seeing stars.

No – I didn’t see stars, I saw sapphires; sapphires clouded by lust and filled with a kind of hunger that scared me into submission.

Clothes were a fleeting thought, only certain sensations actually making it through to me. The feel of my bare shoulder blades rubbing the satin until it burned as my back arched of its own accord, a strange scent of patchouli… I heard a breathy moan and was unsure whether it was mine or Kaiba’s, though I was so far under the Green Fairy’s spell that everything seemed to be blending inexorably and irretrievably into each other in my eyes. The swirl of colours, exotic tints blinding to my tired gaze, was so confusing that in the end my lids fell to block them out and I didn’t resist their movement. Without sight, the sense of touch increased a thousand fold. My skin was raw with nerve endings, my whole body on fire and indecently aware of what it was touching.

Satin and skin – was there really any difference between the two.

There was a single moment when I gained a moment of clarity and my fingers must have dug into his shoulder for our moving bodies stilled and once again I was transfixed in that alcohol clouded blue gaze. I tried to search for the words to resist this, to stop it…but the Fairy stole my tongue along with my lucidity and silence filled the space where calm words should have hung. Then the time for choice was over as our lips met and fire burned between them, the copper tang of blood from either of us filling both of our mouths and sliding down my throat with a kind of vampiric glee. Cool hands ran like quicksilver over my body until my breath escaped audibly from my tainted lips as I moved helplessly under the demon above me.

Then came the piercing and the pain was intense, cutting through the absinth reverie. This wasn’t some twisted, hazy dream – this was real and it was my body suffering now. I had walked straight into the fire and I was burning for my sins now – this was punishment for indecision, this was a way of God telling me that he was displeased with me, that I needed to know who or what I was and that this was a sign. People talked about riding out waves of pleasure – my waves were brimstone hot and tortuous as I cried out my hurt.

But no-one heard and I was lost in a sea of hellfire as smooth satin caressed my back and equally smooth hands ran over my front as pain and punishment came to a halt and I was allowed to sink back down from that pinnacle.

No-one talked about this in those glossy, lying magazines…

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I touch the fire, and it freezes me
I look into it, and it's black
Why can't I feel?
My skin should crack and peel
I want the fire back
Now, through the smoke, she calls to me
To make my way across the flame
To save the day
Or maybe melt away
I guess it's all the same

So I will
Walk through the fire
'Cause where else can I turn?
I will
Walk through the fire
And let it...

The torch I bear is scorching me
He’s laughing, I've no doubt
I hope he fries,
I'm free if that bastard dies
I better help him out
'Cause he is
Drawn to the fire
Some people...
He will never learn
And he will
Walk through the fire
And let it...

Burn

So one by one, they turn from me
I guess my friends can't face the cold
What can't we face?
But why I froze,
Not one among them knows
And never can be told

Everything is turning out so dark
Going through the motions
What's it going to take to strike a spark?
It's what they have inside
These endless days
Are finally ending in a blaze
And I am caught in the fire
The point of no return
So I will walk through the fire
And let it burn
Let it burn
Let it burn
And let it burn


Because the devil’s got me thinking,
And he had got me drinking
What happened to the light when all was fair?
Without the fog and poisoned air?

When did I have to burn?

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Afterwards I cried.

Not because I was unhappy – I was too numb to be upset, but I could feel it creeping up on me – and not because I was afraid I had finally become a woman, scary and towering in its enormity…

No, I cried because I was overwhelmed by the enormity of what I had just done, what we’d just done, not to mention who I’d done it with. That had been the point of no return and I’d passed it without even being clear enough to say goodbye to the other side of the border. A big step in my life and I’d rushed into it and burned for my pains.

It made me feel insignificant, as if I were a part of something that I didn’t understand, couldn’t even start to understand. I’d changed. That one act had changed me, bringing in new thoughts, new feelings, not to mention the new pain currently fading from my body.

I had gained a whole new aspect of me, but in the process, I had lost an intangible part of me and I felt the tear where it had been forcibly removed from me by the man watching as salty tears slid down my cheeks to drip onto the rumpled sheets wrapped so carelessly around my body.

“You’re over reacting – it’s okay.”

The gruff voice cut through my sorrow, my mourning for what I had lost, but it made my heart shred all the more.

Okay? It wasn’t going to be okay – he had sullied me, changed me when I was unwilling…but I had been willing and that made it all the worse. Of all people, I had let Kaiba defile me and I could feel the full force of God’s eyes on me and I knew he was judging me and finding me wanting.

Okay? I had just lost myself to demon with blue eyes and I hadn’t even gained an answer to that question posed so long ago. It hadn’t helped me know who I was – now I was all the more confused and physical pain was added to the shame digging into every inch of my skin where he had touched me.

Okay? We’d left okay a few hundred kisses back and what was worse was that I didn’t blame him. If I was honest with myself, it hadn’t been rape.

You can’t rape someone who is willing.

It would never be just, ‘okay.’

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I should have expected it made some effort to protect myself, but exhaustion played its part and my tears carried me off to sleep on a wave of salt water.

And when I woke up, he was gone.

I should have known…Waking up in an unfamiliar bed was odd, but odd was the least thing on my mind. Actually, my head was the first thing on my mind. My fumbling theory was that a minute builder by the name of Greg had moved into my skull and was currently playing around with heavy machinery judging by the pain I felt in white hot bands of pressure.

“Ouch,” I mumbled, searching around with a hand for a light switch, but I overbalanced, spilling me and the sheet that was still wrapped around me to the floor. Graceful, huh?

Another ‘ouch’ was grumbled as I struggled to pick myself up, painfully aware of my state of dress, or undress to be more precise. Adopting the classic bed sheet toga style, I turned bleary eyes towards the bed I had just vacated with such ease.

Nothing – no Kaiba, not even one of his brown hairs to indicate that he had even been here and the simple fact that he had left me alone was enough to depress me any more.

“Saves me from the insults though…”

This was delightful – the hangover from hell was assaulting my head, I’d just been abandoned by the bastard I slept with and now I was talking to myself. Judging from the far too bright light filtering through the balcony windows, it was some time in the early morning – boy, alcohol sure makes you sleep a long while.

Rubbing my brow as Greg decided to try out his pneumatic drill, I looked around futilely for my clothes. I just wanted to escape before Kaiba came back and we would have to exchange words…

Finding my shirt hanging off the end of the bed, I winced at the memories of how the garment came to be removed in the first place. Truth was, I was ashamed – one drunken fumble with my brother’s worst enemy had completely blackened my spirits and I shivered, hugging the sheets miserably around me. Standing alone in the spacious room only served to dwarf me all the more – cold marble and metal seemed to be the main themes and I felt trapped, lost.

Kaiba’s room felt more like a prison than a room to relax in as I dressed hurriedly, resisting the upwelling of panic that was souring my throat. Or was that just nausea? Yes, definitely nausea as I stumbled off towards the beckoning ensuite bathroom…

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“Good morning, Shizuka!”

I winced as far too cheery tones drove an iron file deeper into my skull, but nodded warily at the grinning Mokuba.

“G’morning…” was my Neanderthal like answer as I hovered at the doorway, looking indecisively at the table for signs of Kaiba, of which there were none thankfully. I sighed a small sound of relief as I padded in barefoot, not having been able to find my shoes.

Mokuba bobbed his head cheerfully and returned to attacking his sugar coated cereal – that I had expected from what I had seen of my friend in the morning. What I hadn’t expected was the younger Kaiba’s breakfast buddy.

Gleaming amethyst eyes looked fondly at me over the top of the morning newspaper and familiar tricoloured hair moved in acknowledgement of my presence.

“Eh? Y-Yuugi?” was my less than coherent comment as my legs gave way, falling neatly into the chair Mokuba had moved in my direction. It was one surprise too many on top of my blinding headache. “What are you doing here?”

The slender youth chuckled dryly as his gaze skated towards Mokuba who carried on calmly eating, not pausing as he flipped Yuugi off with his spare hand.

“Recuperating,” was his dry answer and his smile grew as he watched a slight rosy tint spread across my black-haired friend’s cheeks.

“Recuperating?” I echoed, once again feeling that all too familiar sensation of not knowing what the hell was going on around here. Mokuba and Yuugi watched me as I shifted to get more comfortable in the hard chair, clearly puzzling over Yuugi’s words…You know, Otousan used to go on about the second sight and how everyone could have it.

“You only need to look at something once to see it,” he had instructed my fidgeting five year old self, “But if you /really/ want to see what something is all about, just look twice.”

So I looked twice, looking over at Yuugi and Mokuba again. And I did see what it was all about – the way their forearms lay so close together, not touching, but almost there as they rested in parallel beside each other. I saw how Mokuba’s body was slightly angled towards Yuugi’s and how the older youth had his head cocked in the direction of his companion’s own head. I saw that they both appeared to be wearing odd shoes, but when my brain caught up with my eyes I knew that was a result of Mokuba having his leg hooked casually around the back of Yuugi’s calf, resulting in the odd mix of footwear.

Ho hum.

At least I had the shame to blush and look away, my flush deepening as I heard the low, lazy laugh coming from Yuugi’s direction. After the distinct thwack of paper on skin, I looked up to see Mokuba now in possession of a suspiciously rolled up paper and Yuugi nursing the top of his head as he shot the younger Kaiba an exasperated look.

“Don’t be a bitch, Yuugi,” I heard Mokuba mumble at which the violet eyed teen looked affronted and apologetic at the same time if possible. “Would you like anything to eat, Shizuka?”

I eyed the sugar crystals my friend seemed to be inhaling and winced, trying to quash the rising feelings of nausea that rose in the pit of my belly. “No thanks,” I managed to say hurriedly before I shifted uncomfortably. “Ah….Mokuba?”

“Hmm?” The fifteen year old turned his inquisitive gaze towards me and I felt myself redden under it.

“Uh…do you know where your brother is this morning?” I finally blurted out and immediately regretted it as silence hung ominously in the air. Yuugi and Mokuba shared a glance before they both looked back towards me, eyes knowing and sympathetic.

“Seto went out earlier,” Mokuba said gently, brushing away his messy black bangs absently with one hand. “He said he had work to do.”

“Oh…” Oh? Was that all I could say? But then again, what else could I say to those two pairs of eyes filled with pity and an odd sort of understanding. I couldn’t bear to have them feel sorry for me though – pity was not something I wanted right now.

I just wanted to sleep and forget this all ever happened…

Not to mention brushing my teeth.

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It wasn’t exactly the cleanest escape, but I cut and ran, heading home with my head ducked down. Everyone I passed on the street, I felt as if they knew exactly what I had been doing and exactly who I had done it with. It was embarrassing, even if they couldn’t read my mind. All I wanted now was a comforting hug from someone, preferably a curvy blonde who I could spill my woes out to.

Speak of the devil.

I brightened as I saw Mai standing by the entrance to our apartment building, eyes seemingly glued to the doorbell panel for the whole block. She was my angel in violet leather – she could heal my pain.

“Mai!” I squeaked, a trifle too excitedly as I bundled into her, slipping my arms around her waist. I must have caught her off guards because she stumbled, not returning the hug as she looked down at me with absent recognition.

“Shizuka? Why aren’t you still in bed?” she asked, her voice a tad strained, not that I paid that much heed – she was probably hung over from whatever rave she had been to last night. My headache had subsided somewhat since I had snaffled some aspirin from Kaiba’s medicine cupboard, but even so, my head as still painful. Not that it mattered – Mai was here now! Mai, the one who knows all and can solve all.

“I was at a friend’s,” was my mumbled answer as I fumbled in my purse for my keys, looking up at her curiously. “You coming in? Why didn’t you just ring the doorbell?”

She didn’t answer as I battled to get the door open – it always jammed, one of the sorer points at the building general meetings. Giving it a firm nudge with my knee, it finally gave, nearly spilling me ungracefully into the lobby. I was brushing myself off when I realised that, through all of that rather amusing show, Mai had remained silent. No laughter, no teasing comment, no question as to whether I was okay…

“Mai?” I said finally, turning to face her. I found her standing in the same place, her beautiful eyes blankly fixed on me. “You okay?”

She wasn’t wearing any make up – that was what hit me. Her eyes were unlined, no mascara curled her lashes and there was not even a touch of gloss on her beautiful lips. And her hair, her glorious hair – it was just pulled back into a rough braid that reached about halfway down her back. She looked…younger, more vulnerable and I had no idea why.

“Mai?” I said again, more tentatively as I reached out to touch her hand. If she felt the touch, she didn’t indicate it. “Are you coming in? I could really do with talking to you about something that happened last night.”

Mai blinked. Slowly. “”I don’t have time for this,” she said tiredly and her voice sounded rusty. Beneath my touch, I felt her begin to turn away and I gripped all the more tightly.

“Mai! What’s wrong? You can tell me.” I willed her to believe me as she met my gaze with lost amethyst eyes. For a moment she just looked at me, a heartrending expression on her face made all the more painful by the fact that I didn’t know what was upsetting her so.

A sigh, feather light as the moving air lifted some wisps of hair from my forehead and she pulled abruptly out of my grasp.

“You’re too young to understand, Shizuka,” was her dead answer as she started to walk away, turning her back on me with a painful finality. “Anyway, don’t you have somewhere to be?”

The sting of her rejection made me slump against the still open door to the building, watching the forlorn figure trudge away. Was no-one in the world happy today? She had dismissed me and I resented that, but she had reminded me.

“Damn,” I murmured to the whispering wind as I looked at my watch, resting my head against the cool glass. “How could I have forgotten about you?”

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It was cold – chillingly so, but that may have been because I forgot to bring a coat. Or was it just the atmosphere sending shivers down my spine? One of my hands was clutched loosely around a rather pathetic bunch of flowers I had bought from the stand outside the gates, the other held the front of my jacket closed as I hovered indecisively near the first row.

I always dreaded this part – walking through aisle upon aisle of gleaming marble and soft granite. The odd monument towered ominously over them all, but at least the sun was shining today. With the sun out, the stone seemed to come to life, reflecting the light and seeming less…foreboding. It made the grass greener and the flowers brighter, but in the end, this was still a place of death and it made me nervous.

Checking that I still had a hold on the flowers one last time, I began the winding path I knew so well. Six rows up, past the large bronze statue then walk along towards the end. It was a well trodden path – sometimes by Oniichan’s feet, always by my own, a little brown trail worn through the grass so carefully clipped by the elderly groundskeeper.

He was trimming one of the sombre flowerbeds right no and he raised one wrinkled hand in a ritual greeting. I returned the wave, plastering a smile on my face to let him know I was all right, but then again, he always seemed to see through my blocks and offered me a sympathetic look before he went back to pulling weeds.

I didn’t waste any more time – my steps were quick and measured as my feet carried me to the familiar spot and I took a moment to smile down at the simple, grey gravestone.

“Hey Otousan…”

I bent down – this was the part where I always felt hammy, clichéd as I lay my pitiful bouquet down on the soft mound of grass.

“Sorry I couldn’t get any nicer flowers,” I murmured softly, sitting back on my heels, unmindful of the state my skirt was going to get in. “Manager Ueda, he still hasn’t paid me or Oniichan so that was all I could afford. I’ll bring you back some better ones next week, okay?” I’m not sure why I didn’t just think these things instead, but I’d always chosen to voice my words aloud. At least it gave me some comfort as well, even if I did sometimes attract some odd looks from passers by.

I shifted, resting my hands on the taut fabric stretched across my knees as I looked morosely at the glittering words etched into the stone before me. “I know I said I’d come yesterday, but some jerk took up all my time. Trust me, I’d have rather been here with you.”

I smiled, but I still felt the familiar prick of tears starting to build in my eyes. I was pathetic really, I cried at anything. A typical, weepy girl, that was what people said. Always turning on the waterworks, but at least these tears had a real reason behind them. “You wouldn’t like him – he’s too rich. He’s the man who owns everything, but doesn’t appreciate it. Not like you, Otousan. You worked so hard for us, for Oniichan and I know you did your best. At least you tried.”

I definitely was crying now and unladylike sniffs punctuated my words as I tried to keep myself under control though I attempted a watery smile.

“See? I’m crying again – you’d always get annoyed when I’d cry, you’d tell me Jounouchi’s were tougher than that.” In my lap, my fingers curled, digging in to the cloth of my skirt. I let my head fall forwards slightly, feeling my overly long hair slip out of its restraints and curtain my face. For this I was grateful; I didn’t like people seeing me cry like this. It never changed – however many times I came to see him, I always ended up with tears in my eyes. It had been getting better – the drops nearly always stayed put in my eyes, but there were times like this when they escaped to run down my cheeks in a salty trail.

“I guess I made a mistake yesterday,” I whispered, not trusting my voice to work at a louder pitch. “I thought I could handle him, I really did…you know I only want to make you proud, you and Okaasan.” I chuckled, but it sounded more like a hiccough through my tears as I failed to make it sound amused. “Not that she’s happy with me either – she hasn’t spoken to me since your funeral. But I’m rambling again – I know you want to hear the good stuff, not the doom and the gloom.”

I struggled to relax, reeling off some happy story about me and Mai or the latest prank the guys at work had played on Oniichan. I felt guilty for burdening him with my sob story and I tried to make it up to him by reminding him and myself of the light in my life.

It was just harder than normal to remember it then.

When I ran out of things to say, I lapsed into silence, quietly looking at the mute gravestone.

“Love you, Otousan,” was my last comment as I stood up, making a small bow to the grave in general and then towards the grave marker. “I’ll be back next week and with better flowers too…”

I paused, but there was no more to say and it wasn’t as if there was going to be an answer so I turned away.

“Here.”

I blinked confusedly, looking at the white rose which had suddenly materialised underneath my nose, then looking past it into the face of the old groundskeeper.

“T-thank you…” I mumbled, reaching out with an unsteady hand, but he pulled it away, a smile on his wrinkled features.

“Ah-ah,” he said, tapping the velvet petals against first his cheek and then mine. He really was odd. Sweet, but odd. “You only get it if you give me a smile.”

I looked at the pristine white petals of the rose, pure and virginal in its symbolism and there was never a time I felt less like smiling. But he was looking at me so firmly that I tried anyway. It wasn’t one of my better smiles, but he accepted it, pressing the thornless stem into my unresisting palm and patting my head.

“Good girl – just keep smiling.”

Huh, easy for him to say….

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Hmm, I’m not sure what to make of this chapter. I think the narration’s a bit choppy, but this was definitely the hardest chapter to plan apart from one near the end. Final chapter count – I think there’s going to be twenty chapters and an epilogue so this would definitely be my longest fic to date. =) Anyway – I hope you’re all enjoying it. I have a feeling I’ll get mixed reactions for this chapter, but it always was going to be a controversial one since so much happens in it. It’s a chapter with quite a few revelations, but read it carefully since many points made in this come up as focal features in later chapters.

Tokushu: Heehee, Shitake mushrooms ^^ ~Grins~ What? If a girl wants to ramble on about mushrooms she can. ~Gasps~ No! You thought she was saying a rude word? Oh now, our Shizuka is a good girl! ~Nod nod~ My story rocks huh? I think I love you all the more. Damn, Green Fairy is deadly! I did my research and some of the things are found were darn right weird…

Lady Grey: Yep, the Shizuka/Mai following…which is mainly me I think. Am I the only one who can see it? Actually, I think it works better when it’s one sided, hence my story ‘There are no Words’ That was interesting to write. Hehe – I’ve always been too scared to print my stories out – my Mom often rummages through my room and I wouldn’t want her finding any of my stories…I have tried to keep Shizuka in character, but I think I’m twisting her to my view of her. To me she’s in character – no-one can stay innocent for that long, but I think some people will see her as wildly out of character.

Wish he was Mine: ~Snickers and points~ Your review got fucked up! I know the feeling though – the tension was supposed to be escalating all the way up to that kiss and I’d have been pissed if someone had interrupted me. Um…hehe…Anzu….~Sweatdrops~ You better start finding me some balls then…