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Three: Previously, on Aya's Mind...

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All of this bringing up the question of the dream-caresses that had taken to dancing naked around his senses 
and calling him childish things not close enough to hold him for real...

It was spring, but it was many years before, and he looked upon it all as if he was some fragment of light 
cut from the heart of a crystal hung along the brace of a line of sheer drapes- there, and not quite there.  
Something kittens could play with and babies chase, but grownups forget they had ever taken to never-
never land.   He could almost see himself sometimes, fit to put his hand through.  

The habit of somewhat undoing his shirts when he could started there, and so it was with half-bare chest 
and quite a bit of sunburn he sat on one of the garden benches, his whole body weaving with the breeze, 
trying to keep the patches of shade the dogwood branches were giving over just the few works out of many 
he was reading.    His nose itched and he felt like he was always blushing.  Such was the fate of those who 
did yardwork on Sundays.  He paused between poems, scratching his warm cheeks, but sighed, gave up and 
read.

Consider the sea's listless chime:
Time's self it is made audible,-
The murmur of the earth's own shell.  
Secret continuance sublime
Is the sea's end: our sight may pass
No furlong further.  Since time was,
This sound hath told the lapse of time.

No quiet, which is death's,- it hath
The mournfulness of ancient life,
Enduring always at dull strife.
As the world's heart of rest and wrath
Its painful pulse in the sands.
Last utterly, the whole sky stands,
Grey and not known along its path.

Listen alone beside the sea,
Listen alone among the woods;
Those voices of twin solitudes
Will have one voice alike to...

"Whatcha doin'?" And his lap felt warmer than his face then for something squirmy had settled there.  
Whatever train of though the Pre-Raphaelites had stretched through their words snapped and went shooting 
off in all kinds of crazy directions through the garden; bouncing off the trees and the koi pond and finally 
the thing wiggling on his thighs.  

"Aya-chan! Cut that out." 

She had started tickling him, rather in the way most ten year olds like to be tickled themselves.  "Why?"

"BE~ecause, I've got homework to do, and I bet the same goes for you.  When did you get home anyway?"

"'bout ten minutes ago.  I was waitin' for you in the kitchen and you didn't come." Her fingers wound up 
scrunched in the hem of her blouse like she always did when she was trying not to fidget- the tugs she gave 
it made the collar nod like petals over her shoulders.  "I'm hungry!"

His book snapped closed and flopped with a leathery pout onto the bench beside him.  He found out that 
evening he had succeeded in flattening a beetle with it.  Or rather, his sister found out, and deemed it 
necessary to have a proper funeral, complete with table cloth veils and incense and a full assembly of kin, 
IE, all the bugs from the garden that could be coaxed into jars.  "Then go microwave yourself some natto.  
I'm busy."

"And I don't like natto! EROI!"

"Now, what did I tell you about saying that word? It makes it sound like the natto did something... you 
know, H."

"Maybe it did!"  

A glance passed between them, half bamboozled and half certain in its own designs- assured and grinning 
like a cat who has swallowed a goldfish, or done in the drapes (at leas on her end of it).  He suddenly felt 
himself seriously wondering about the natto, as if had been left out of something suspicious.    

"There's a big H in it! It makes you go," and here Aya-chan make a long string of gagging noises which 
appeared to more or less start with a vaguely "h" like sound.    

"Well, I still can't fix anything for you.  I have to get this read to-night.  How about a sandwich? You're 
good at making those, and there's some fresh jelly."

"No."

"No? What do you mean 'no'?  You just said you were hungry."

"But I've got no one to eat it with!" 

"Then bring it out here and you can sit with me, but only if you promise to be quiet and not tell mom and 
dad I let you do something so rude!" [1]

"Pachi pachi!" she cried, bounding to her feet and spraying bits of torn up grass every which way.  "I 
promise! And then I won't tell mommy and daddy you like to take your panties off to sleep!"

He's cheeks really did burn then, not that anyone could have told beneath the scorches that had already 
settled there.  "They're not 'panties'! For the last time, they're called 'shorts' or 'boxers' or something like 
that! Panties are for GIRLS! And I only do that when it's hot out!"

But she had already slammed the porch door and was laughing at him from behind it as if it was he shut up 
somewhere for her amusement, and not she who had locked herself out.  A shake of his head and he pulled 
his glasses back up his nosebridge, wincing at the sticky way they felt before once again reaching for his 
(unbeknownst to him, be-bugged) book.  

While he tried once again to finish all twenty-eight lines of the third part of his assignment, his sister 
clambered up on a chair- she couldn't reach the peanut butter, since some inconsiderate person had put it 
allll the way up on the top shelf of the top shelf! She bet her brother had done it, if only because his 
presence in her thoughts made him the most likely subject for just about any action- be it eating up the 
moon, or forgetting to flush, or making the toaster burn her pretty white slices of bread, which it sort of did, 
but only half of each.  She didn't mind though, and scraped the burned part down the sink where it went 
frolicking with the coffee grounds.  A gigantic glob of grape jelly made its way onto the maimed portion of 
her bread, followed by an even more tremendous, oozy pat of peanut butter.  No need to spread, she simply 
squeezed the other slice down and they squished out all the way to the edges.  The sandwich sagged when 
she picked it up and carried it outside.  Her fingers left purple prints behind.

In the interests of being a good girl, she didn't address her brother right away, but rather stood a meter or so 
away form him, licking away the stray bits of filling before they could drip onto her shirt.  She humphed 
audibly when he gave her but one glance.  A dogwood petal that flopped down on his book.  He gave it a 
flick so it landed in the pond where all the pretty fishies swam for it, nibbling and nibbling.  

"So Ran-nii-chan is being mean to you too, huh?" murmured Aya-chan, kicking her shoes off and climbing 
up on the stones around the pool.  A grumble behind her she stuck her be-jellied tongue out at.  And her 
reflection did too.  And the koi all looked up at her with their great, big, unhappy, little water eyes.  So she 
rubbed a few more crumbs off her bread and they drifted to the surface and were eaten all up with a great 
show of flickering tails and blugging fishie mouths.  Bit by bit, more particles of sandwich began to come, 
and sugary purple stuff that sank to the bottom and sparked before being dashed to bits by ground up 
peanuts.  Aya-chan laughed and had another bite herself.  It was almost like a tea party, only the fish 
REALLY ate whereas her dolls did not.  Which gave her an idea.

"Hey Nii-chan! Don'tcha wanna come play with us? You usually come to my tea parties."

Ran sighed, trying not to smile or shake his head.  He did both of course.  Maybe her little stuffed animal 
soirees were a little Victorian and haphazard for his liking. but they always had the most wonderful 
outcomes: she'd show him a page of the scribbly kanji on her little pink Miffy diary, or they'd get in a 
tickle fight and break open a pillow only to go chasing the feathers all over the room.  The little delights he 
was already loosing to age.

Only then did he finally realize that out in the back yard... she had no stuffed animals, nor play teacups, 
and especially no pillows ready to be softy, cuddly martyrs for their play.  He saw her and her playmates 
then through the vapor-edge of focus his reading glasses provided for anything more than five feet away.  
And then everything about her tipped crazily with the frames that picked that moment to go cock-eyed on 
his nosebridge.

"AYA-CHAN!" he shouted, leaping up form his seat, and letting his book fall open to a poem by 
Browning.  "You know better! People food is not for fish!" Stumbling a bit, he alighted on the stone beside 
her, catching her sticky wrist in one hand.  She wobbled with him that first time he lost and recaptured his 
balances, the water glassing his wiggles as the rocks under him shifted with the trips of his feet.  

For a moment, his sister just stared at him with her soft, cozy grey-blue tareme [2], a pout not quite spoiling 
her already pouty lips.  

He ground his face up into something close to stern.

PLOP! She dropped her sandwich and the water fizzed with a peanuty haze.

PLOP! Ran fell in after it after managing to miss it in mid air.  

SQUISH! Ran really hoped that was the sandwich he had landed on and not one of the koi.  One had 
flopped out of the water and landed just where he had been, their places perfectly reversed, for the little 
splash of orange and gold was struggling to stay upright as much as he had.  His light, little sister who 
hadn't scared the stones out from under her was standing on the bank.  Candy bells of laughter rang all 
around her and her blouse got knotted up in the fingers clutching her little sides.

One swat of his hand and the struggling fish fell back into its muddied water to reunite with it's cousins and 
tell stories about being abducted by air-breathing brats from the outside world.  It took a few more swats to 
catch Aya.  Not to mention a lot of soggy sprints around the garden.  He chased her behind the hydrangea, 
calling her lots of childish insults such as she had called his pride.  She gave him a quick akanbe [3] and 
tried to scurry up the ginko tree but couldn't reach the lower branches.  All the way back to the dogwood 
tree she fled, there making the mistake of ducking out from behind it to make sure he was following, or 
rather tackling her, which he did.  

They both rolled into a bower of dropped petals on the shady side between the trunk and fence.  It was 
almost in slow motion the drips form his uniform went rolling onto hers.  She yelped.  "You got me all wet 
now! Yucky!"

"Me! Got you all wet?! AYA-CHAN!"

"What? You didn't have to dive after the sandwich.  You're not playing soccer and a sandwich sure isn't a 
soccer ball."

After a rather long moment of stupefied laughter pulled up a finger and shook it at her.  "That may be true, 
but you know what? This huge mess is all your fault! Mom and Dad are gonna be so mad at you!"

"No they won't."

"What do you mean they won't?"

He reached, she touched and spun them both over onto their sides by the roots and the mushy blossoms that 
had fallen.  "Because you won't tell them, baka!"

"How do you know I won't. I'm really mad! Can't you tell I'm mad?"

"Then why do you keep giggling?"

He didn't know, he couldn't get anything out between the chuckles, which just made him more and more 
angry- getting vexed by a girl two years his junior.

Again.

So, even if she shouted and she fought him, hanging on his eartails as if they were handlebars, he couldn't 
let her get away with it! He sat up, propped himself in the crook of the exposed roots and hauled her up 
over his lap.

Twitters, a few happy tears appeared, messing up her cheeks. "You got me facing the wrong way  to tickle 
me!" 

"I'm not gonna tickle you!" Said with a self-satisfied grin, "I'm gonna spank you."  And then he hummed 
to himself to drown out her nonsense protests.  The jiggles they dealt the trunk of the dogwood loosed a 
rain of brand-new petal-jumpers ready to know the grass.  "I can't hear you!"

She knew he could and shouted so.

Ran paused then, just felt her moving near him.  Their parents weren't much into corporal punishment.  He 
recalled only one occasion they'd resorted to it in any usual sense on him, two on her because she was so 
unladylike in front of guests.  Just how did one go about paddling the bottom of another? Couldn't be much 
to it.  But her skirt was pretty much soppy and so would cushion the blows for certain.  So that flipped up.  
He found the thighs beneath it grew pink when the sunlight touched them.  The same went for the cheeks of 
her tiny bottom when he tugged her panties off and tossed them so they landed in front of her face.  "Now! 
THOSE are panties.  OK!"

"Sure, Nii-chan!"

Blithely, his palms crossed the blushing, bony curves of her legs and pressed once against her before 
drawing back.

"You're not really gonna spank me, are ya, Nii-chan?" All uncertain giggles this.

A shrug and his hand came down with a muffled crack that made the body tied up in his arms jerk and give 
a little squeak, like rather he had struck a mouse.  His fingers began to sting at once and he looked them 
over once to see how crimson they became before he slapped her once again.  Now there were marks on 
her, one on each side of her bottom, like the edges of a pair of wings that lay at the base of her back.  

"You don't hit very hard!"

"That may be so!" Ran ground out between striking her cheeks.  "But I'm doing my best!"  His best which 
made her reel suddenly though he hadn't seemed to have made any harsher a contact.  He almost lost his 
grip on her, for it was almost as if she floated suddenly of some accord only partially her own, and perhaps 
she did, but held her fast in the end only by letting his hand slide down between her flailing legs.  A 
curiously little shiver greeted him there with a cry louder than any that had come before, but still tingling 
with laughter.  

He realized then his fingers had found the glossy, bare skin of her lowest belly... he struck her there once, 
hoping she was sensitive underneath that his palm might actually hurt enough to.... What was he even 
trying to do? He couldn't remember exactly.  The last few minutes were all a mess of giggles and jelly and 
a dull ache growing in his stomach where he supposed she'd kicked him.  Oh, right, the jelly.

With fresh intent, he looked her over, bringing his slaps down on her upper thighs now.  She started to 
scrunch them away, bringing her knees in closer to her chest, bit by bit, hoping for leverage and nothing 
more.  And while she still couldn't (or wouldn't, part of him thought later) get away from him, she 
contented herself with rolling her hips back and forth, trying to make him miss.

Which he did only to find his finger tip past her nether lips this time, just barely chancing the dampness and 
the faint heat.  She cried out, he glanced up into the trembling branches just for a moment, trying to catch 
the sunlight on his face, even if they had already been kiss-burned by it.  No, it wasn't that kind of warmth 
there, or even that kind of scream she'd give if he put his hand just there.  A few more blossom bits wound 
down with a catch in the breeze- one settled on the base of her back, as if she was growing a chain of them 
for a tail.

Ran tried to brush it away, but the tension of the liquid traces on his fingers made it cling to him, even 
through another few slaps, and one serious attempt to shake it off.  He thought of taking it up to his mouth 
to tear it from his hand there, but it didn't work out just that way, for before he even had a chance to lay his 
lips to the petals, they found their way back to his sister, and settled, through her wiggling, just tentatively 
inside her bottom.

He couldn't help but laugh at her all over again.

"What's so funny! I'm gonna be soar all day at school tomorrow! I wont be able to sit at ALL!"

"You just got a flower up your butt!"

A most dismayed shriek here! Because she didn't believe him- after all, she spun around, or tried to work 
her way around to see.  She would have needed a mirror either way.  "Well, get rid of it!"

He did, shaking his head as if she had had anything to do with the blossom and where it had decided to sit 
for the time being.  He plucked it away with only two fingers, letting the rest wander just a little further.  

"NIIII-chan! Don't do THAT! It TICKLES really bad!"

"Does it?" asked with a clingy sort of wonder, and the inching about of the pads of his digits in small 
circles.  She certainly hadn't acted like it did.  (Not before.)  Nor did she answer him now with more than 
the little sounds, that which was close to laughter and still not quite there, still not quite pain, for he kept on 
spanking her, only now sometimes she'd meet him halfway.  But she didn't seem stiff in his lap anymore... 
no, Aya felt all of a sudden life she did when she woke up in the morning and hadn't quite lost the lingering 
warmth of her sheets in her lanky little limbs.  She simply laid against him,  easing this way and that, with 
just those few of his smacks.  

For the way of it came to him in one, single, reveling flash of brilliance.   He would spank her twice and 
then let his hand slide against her sex so she would open and let him have a tickle of her just there, just in 
the place that made her all melty against him as if he'd turned into a pillow.  Her hands were leaving 
sweaty prints on his school pants because she wouldn't let them go.  He just grazed the place where the slit 
deep past her nether lips reached into her body, but she ground her teeth if he touched her any further.

"So that doesn't feel so good?" He mused, pushing just the tip of his forefinger into the oozy cleft she hid.

Aya-chan shuddered and nodded though he felt her start to close around him then, if only for a moment, 
coaxing for contact, but still somehow wishing him away, so he pulled back, and ran his hand down the 
length of her inner labia instead.  Reaching the crest of those lips, he came and went backwards across her, 
drawing up and down through her.

He was smiling now, for she could not cease her giggles, though they broke now and then with gasps.  Her 
cheeks had already turned strawberry and cream, so he left her bottom alone and had more slippery sorts of 
games with her, not meant to bring such a blush, though she was blushing.  And sobbing.

But it just didn't then, in that juvenescence they shared, seem like a sad sob, even when she quivered or he 
felt the stiff droplet that always made her scream hide from him now and then as he worked her.  That she 
liked, and he knew it.  Being sorry, he pinched her there, and she would buck into his arms she had 
moments before tried to flee.

Until she was dripping and panting.  His wrist ached a little and the pads of his digits still pained him as if 
he had been striking her all the while.  They fell still together, he hidden in her up to his palm and sighing 
now and then, she finding her breath on the fragrant air.  

"Can I have my panties back now?"

Ran gave them to her without a fight, fishing them out of the lawn and tired petals where they had fallen, a 
few still stuck to the surface of them.  His sister got to her feet to put them on, like she did in the morning 
he seemed to recall from when he had glanced her when they were much, much smaller.  She turned and 
found the blossom still held in her, so she drew it out and threw it to the ground.  It was shiny.  He could 
see all of her the way she stood to work herself around after it.  

"Okasan and Otousan'll be mad if they come home and I'm not doin' my homework."

"They sure will be! Up you get!"

"I am up, silly!"

Gone too.  He blinked to where she had been, because he had not forgotten through the whole thing that she 
was his sister, not even while he sat staring at her goo running down his trembling hand.  

She smelled like wet grass when the sun comes to lean against it.

...because there was part of him that never left that moment.  





End Notes:

[1] Eating outside is considered quite rude in Japan

[2] tareme- droopy, cute girl eyes

Aya's poem is "The Sea Limits" by Dante Gabriel Rosetti, or at least, the first two and a half stanzas 
thereof.  

Revised whilst listening to "Claire de Lune" by Debussy