Yukio hugged
Kyoko closer to him. The blanket barely managed to keep the autumn
cool out, but he didn't care. Up here on the rooftop they could be
alone at last. He hadn't even bothered bringing their radios.
“She said she
hated me!”
Yukio relived his
anger at seeing Kyoko's bruised face. The face Kuri struck so hard
that vessels burst. Tomorrow it would look like she had used her
fist, but Kyoko promised it was a slap.
“She can go to
hell!” Yukio said.
Kyoko shook her
head. He could feel her nose rubbing his chest. “No. We turned our
radios off.”
Yukio stroked her
hair and looked down. Late afternoon wind played in it and her
blouse.
“Look, Noriko,
we couldn't have heard anything. Kuri didn't, no-one with a radio
inside the gym did.”
Deep inside he
realised Kuri's wrath expressed her fear and helplessness more than
anything else, but still. She had slapped his Kyoko.
Deep inside he
was scared witless, but he couldn't say that.
His fingers moved
through Kyoko's hair while he listened to her sobs. But for her need
to believe him a solid rock of strength and safety he'd have joined
her long ago.
Are you OK
man? Are you going to die on me?
Over the other
rooftop a helicopter slowly rose to vanish away from the school. The
third to do so in short time, and at the service gates a small truck
had just arrived with desperately needed supplies; and Yukio didn't
care at all.
The cultural
festival had become a meaningless display, one that slowly
degenerated into chaos now when most members in the club had fallen
into apathy.
“I'm scared,”
Kyoko whispered.
Yukio pulled the
blanket closer around them. From below he heard the rumbling murmur
of thousands of guests milling around the school grounds. Sometimes
interrupted by a shout or a loud laughter but always there in the
background.
He knew the
student council and the festival committee belatedly tried to do the
job they should have done from the very beginning, but without the
club they didn't stand a chance. Without Urufu if he was honest.
“Kyoko, I'm
here. I'll always be here, OK?”
She hugged him
tighter and rubbed tears away from red rimmed eyes. “I know. Thank
you!”
“Kyoko...”
Yukio fell silent. He wanted to stay by her side more than anything
else. “Kyoko, you're my hero. Help me be yours!”
She took his
hands in hers and rose to her feet. Together they walked to the
railings and looked down.
“Yukio, they
need us now, but could we stay here for a while longer? Please!”
He looked at her
for a long time. “Yes I think we can,” he said and smiled.
Smiling was good. Smiling made his fears take a back seat. “In fact
I think we have to.”
An icicle of wind
cut through his clothes and reminded him of the season. “Will you
help me?”
Kyoko nodded
back. “Yeah. If I'm with you I can do anything.”
Yukio grinned at
her. My girl! He thrust his hand into his pocket and pulled
out his phone. Noriko picked up on the second signal.
“Noriko, could
you have someone come to the rooftop with two radios and a blanket?”
He waited for her
surprised affirmation and the anticipated question afterwards.
“Why? Because
the festival committee can't find their own arses in the dark, and
that's not good enough for Urufu.” Yukio laughed when Kyoko slapped
a hand to her mouth. “Noriko, we started this madness. Let's finish
it the way we planned. I'll stay on the rooftop with Kyoko and help
you get the show running again.”
He almost
finished the call there and then, but as an afterthought he put the
phone to his ear again.
“Noriko, tell
that idiot brother of yours to keep the council president off my
back. I only have room for Kyoko on it.”
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