Beauty in the Breakdown
Chapter 3: Alabaster Moon
By Baine
Email: lady_baine (at) yahoo (dot) com
Written: April 26th, 2007
Posted: August 4th, 2007
AN: For those asking, by the end, this will be a Usagi/Mamoru fic. Mamoru won’t be making an appearance into the story for a few chapters yet because there are a couple of other story arcs going on, so bear with me for a while. ^.^
*—(number) Implies that there is a Japanese cultural note regarding the topic at the end of the story.
_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._
Beauty in the Breakdown
Chapter Three: Alabaster Moon
_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._
Steam poured out of his ears as his face flamed a vibrant shade of red. He was livid. He hadn’t been this mad since he was a teen and his dad had caught him rolling around in the meadow with Sakimoto Mie.
He could hear that swine of a boy crowing in the living room about ghosts and haunted houses all the way from the top floor. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. People weren’t supposed to be happy when they discovered a ghost in the house. They were supposed to abandon ship. Yet here was a small twerp of a boy acting as though his existence was the best thing on earth.
To add salt to the wound, neither of the females had so much as lifted an eyebrow at the boy’s antics. They thought he was fibbing and tuned him out. They hadn’t even stopped to consider the notion that he could be telling the truth. That alone infuriated him the most.
What would it take to make this family sit up and take notice? Billowing curtains only moved because “someone must have left the window open”—even if it was shut. Creaking floorboards and scary sounds were nothing more than the house settling. Lights that flickered on and off were a result of faulty wiring and rooms as cold as a freezer were blamed on old, drafty houses that didn’t heat easily.
Why did a family have to move in that was so...practical? Where was the fun in that? He had been so sure he’d finally get to them tonight, too. He had performed his most brilliant prank yet. It had taken a lot of time and energy, but he’d managed to make the hallway ‘bleed.’
Small rivulets of ‘blood’ had cascaded down the walls. He had mixed water with ketchup and rigged the clear baggies to release at the exact moment the family walked up the steps. Instead of fleeing, however, the boy thought it was ‘cool’ and, upon realizing that there was a ghost in the house, had decided to catch him while his sister and mother had lectured him for creating a prank that had destroyed the walls.
He scoffed at the idea. Like that runt of a kid could come up with a prank that was half as good as his. He plugged up his ears to drown out the squeals of delight intermixed with spurts of anger and bickering.
At the rate it was going, this family would never get the hint.
_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._
Usagi lay sprawled across the couch with the remote in her hand, eyes fixed on the TV. Turning up the sound of the drama she was watching to drown out her brother, she sighed and rolled over. *--1
“Shingo, cut it out. I can’t hear my show.”
Shingo paused to glance over at his sister, hammer held in mid-air. His gaze flickered over to the TV and his lip curled derisively. “Why do you always watch these crappy dramas? They’re so lame. Look at this dude, for example. He’s a wuss if he spends an entire season trying to ask a girl out. What a loser.”
A devilish smile crossed her face. “Why, Shingo, I knew you secretly watched this show when you thought I wasn’t looking.”
“No, but you always have the sound up so loud that it’s impossible to tune it out. Besides, you talk in your sleep.” He brought his hand to his mouth and made loud kissing noises as he mimed his sister drooling over the male lead.
Pulling the decorative pillow from behind her head, Usagi hurled it at her brother. “I don’t do that, dweeb.”
“Yuh-huh,” he made a fish face and smacked his lips, then returned to his hammer, making sure to bang it extra loudly in order to annoy his sister even more.
Usagi scowled and turned up the volume on the TV yet again, eyes riveted on the latest teen heartthrob, who was currently drenched from a combination of rain and sweat. She sighed dreamily as she took in his bare, chiseled chest, squealing in surprise as the remote was suddenly wrenched from her hands. Sitting up and preparing to start World War III, she froze as she stared up into her mother’s furious face.
“It’s way too loud in here. The neighbors are probably going to throw a fit the next time they see me.”
Recovering from the shock, Usagi wailed, “But Momma, I can’t hear over Shingo’s hammering. I’ve been waiting to see this all week and he’s ruining it for me.”
Ikuko rolled her eyes and swatted the top of her daughter’s head. “You’re both making a racket.” Glancing at her watch, she did a mental calculation. “Your show ends at eleven, right?” *--1
“Yeah.”
“Okay, let’s do this. Shingo, let your sister watch the last half hour of her show. You can bang during the commercial breaks, but that’s it.”
“But Mo~om—”
“Either wait or go bang around in the attic. Oh, and I want you both in bed by 11:30.”
“Why? There’s no school tomorrow.” Shingo pouted petulantly.
“It’s too late to be causing a ruckus. Tomorrow may be Saturday, but don’t forget that you have to be at the school by 10 a.m. for baseball practice, Shingo. Usagi, since you haven’t joined any clubs, you’ll stay here and help me with the chores.” *--2
Usagi scowled at her mother, then shrugged and agreed, turning her attention back to the TV, finger itching to turn the volume back up as soon as her mother vacated the room. Drowning out the murmur of voices, she focused her concentration on the show, becoming aware of her surroundings only when there was a commercial break and her brother resumed his incessant hammering. Rolling over onto her stomach, she peered over the arm of the couch at the debris strewn across the floor. “What are you making, anyway?”
Shingo looked up with a grin as he finished hammering a nail into place. “A trap.”
A suspicious expression crossed Usagi’s face as she lifted an eyebrow. “If I have to suffer through another of your pranks, you won’t live to see the new year, twerp.”
“It’s not a trap for humans, baka. I’m making it to trap the ghost.”
Usagi groaned. How on earth did her mother think that Shingo was settling down better than she was? “Not this again. Shingo, listen.” Concerned, she sat up and bit her lip, peering down at her brother. “Look, I’m having trouble adjusting to the move, too, but trust me. Mom won’t take us back to Tokyo just because you’re inventing a ghost.”
Shingo frowned at her. “It’s you who’s having trouble adjusting, not me. I’m getting along just fine.”
Usagi scoffed, her face hardening once more. “Whatever. Just don’t set any booby-traps near me and you can keep all your body parts.” She turned her attention back to the TV.
Sticking out his tongue, Shingo stuck his fingers in his ears and made a face at his sister, then got in a few more pounding sounds with his hammer before the commercials ended and he was chased from the room.
_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._
A discombobulated arm hung lifelessly from the ceiling. Nearby, a leg swung back and forth from a string as the ceiling fan's blades slowly orbited.
He smirked as he side-stepped the appendages. If that kid thought he could use gag props to throw him off and catch him, he was seriously deranged. Sidestepping a plate full of flour, he maneuvered his way through the room. As aggravating as it was to have a budding ghostbuster on his hands, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed watching the sparks fly every time one of the women innocently encountered a trap. Sooner or later, the boy was sure to get sick of always being grounded and give up.
He had to give up the pranks himself, unfortunately. He was spending too much energy trying to top himself and getting no reward for his troubles. He only excited the brat more and the females would never even consider a ghost at this point because the boy was acting so nutty.
Moving to the terrace, he pulled out his squashed box of cigarettes and extracted one, bringing it to his lips and reveling in the illusion of life. True, he didn’t actually need the air, but the act of breathing reminded him of everything he had lost.
Hearing the front door bang shut, his mouth settled into a grimace. Taking one last drag of his cigarette, he blew slowly, snubbing out the end and dropping the butt to the ground. So much for peace and quiet. The family was home from their excursion.
Hearing the door behind him slide open, he moved to the side, watching through hooded eyes as the girl came out to join him, resting her arms against the railing and lowering her head. A night breeze played with her long hair. Swatting the blowing strands out of her eyes, she straightened and stared up into the star-dappled sky. Her face appeared to be illuminated beneath the full moon. Her cheeks were flushed and she glowed with health for the first time since he had seen her. She looked almost...pretty.
A lone tear trailed her cheek as she stared upwards, absently playing with the star-shaped locket she wore around her neck. “Starlight, star bright...”
He held his breath, waiting to hear what frivolous thing a pampered princess could possibly yearn for. She remained mum, however. He stepped closer, wondering if her voice was just too quiet to hear.
She shivered and zipped her hoodie. It was almost as though she’d felt his movement, though he was sure it was just her body’s response to the cool night air. After all, if she could sense his presence, she would have done so long before now.
Swiping her hand across her face, she turned and headed back inside, latching the door behind her.
What had she been going to wish for? Curiosity slid down his throat and coiled in his stomach. He felt almost...disappointed that she hadn’t revealed her thoughts aloud. He could have used them against her later. After all, they were in the middle of a war. He wasn’t about to grant anyone mercy, least of all a pampered princess.
_.-"-._ _.-"-._ _.-"-._
Cultural Note #1: In Japan, primetime TV shows air between 9 p.m.-11p.m. at night. Usually, they are an hour long. They are called “dramas” here.
Cultural Note #2: In Japan, clubs take up a lot of a student’s time! They can meet anywhere from once to five times during a school week. Many students get home after seven p.m. at night. Students often go to school on Saturdays and/or Sundays for club activities as well. Sports are considered to be club activities rather than teams. In fact, students even attend these activities and/or tournaments during school holidays such as summer vacation and Golden Week. Many parents complain because students spend too much time at school, but this set-up isn’t going to change anytime soon. It also places a burden on the teachers because they have don’t get paid overtime for supervising the clubs. They also lose out on vacation if the club is meeting/competing.
As always, I’d like to thank my fabulous editor Kel for helping me tidy this piece up. ^^
Like it? Hate it? I’m the one to talk to! Hit the little review button or Email lady_baine (at) yahoo (dot) com today!
«•´`•.(*•.¸(`•.¸ ¸.•´)¸.•*).•´`•»
«•´¨*•.¸¸. *Baine*.¸¸.•*¨`•»
«•´`•.(¸.•´(¸.•* *•.¸)`•.¸).•´`•»