Part Trois
Shinobu never did have a chance to share his warm fuzzy feelings with his roommate. And all for the good, it seemed in hindsight. He didn’t think Mitsuru would have agreed to go to the mountains then if Shinobu had been successful in confessing his feelings. Still, the alternative had been no better. The boy winced at his reflection in the window.
Although it pained him to think of it, Shinobu forced himself to quickly catalogue everything that had gone awry from the minute he had found Mitsuru that night. He wished he were a lightweight whose brain mercifully blocked out memories of alcohol-induced ignominies. Then at least he could have feigned ignorance, not only to the others but to himself as well. Alas, it was not meant to be and Shinobu had a very vivid recollection of the party’s subsequent events.
~Shinobu’s Memory of the Debacle~
“Oi, Shinobu! There you are! I can’t believe how easy it was! No one even thought twice about the last-minute swap. In fact, even the dorm lady fell for it.”
“Hmmmm…”
“Shinobu, what’s wrong? You look a little green.”
“Winging whispers into my skull, the serpent breathes in twilight’s lull.”
“What?!”
“Then cherubs dangle from cherry tress while whores pluck lyres on bended knees.”
“Shin, what are you saying? Is this some sort of secret code?”
“Oi, Mitsuru-senpai. There you are! And you found Shinobu-senpai. Good. I was worried earlier, but Suka-chan said he was okay. Is he okay?”
“Shun, do you know how much he’s had to drink tonight?”
“And summer kites trip in the sky while London’s scum goes scurrying by…”
“What’s Shinobu-senpai saying?”
“I told you he was shnockered!”
“Mitsuru-senpai, I think Suka-chan’s right. Shinobu-senpai was not looking too good a while ago.”
“And lover’s stroll with souls entwined…”
“Did he just say `lovers’?”
“…while transients piss where once kings dined!”
“I think he’s rhyming. I didn’t know Shinobu-senpai could be so…articulate.”
“Or so loud. Hasukawa, Shun! Help me get him out of here before he attracts any more attention.”
“And virgins’ feet drown in emerald grasses while trolls lift skirts and finger up their…”
“NOW, boys!”
A hand was clamped firmly on Shinobu’s mouth and he was dragged hastily from the common room. Oddly enough, the boy’s vociferous verses did not even elicit a single stare from the other revelers. In fact, it seemed the party had escalated into a chaotic affair of drunken singing and maudlin weeping. At any other time, Hasukawa and Shun would have wondered at their friends’ behaviours, but now, they were too busy helping Mitsuru lead his roommate out to the porch for some fresh air.
Once there, Mitsuru dropped Shinobu unceremoniously on the stoop and wiped his brow. Though slight in build, Shinobu had been a dead weight in his friend’s arms.
“Okay, someone tell me what he’s been drinking!”
“Well, I got him the first beer. And I think Suka-chan gave him two more, ne?”
“Hai. But that’s all, I swear!”
“It’s okay, Hasukawa. I believe you. You can stop cowering now. Hmmm, what’s that in his hand?”
“I think it’s a cup of that orange slush thing from the punch bowl…Mitsuru-senpai? What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Shun, did you just say `orange slush thing’?”
“Hai. Is that bad?”
“No, no, no, no…”
“Mitsuru-senpai?”
“You forgot?! Shinobu, you idiot! I can’t believe you forgot! I told you not to drink it! I told you I was going to switch it already! Baka, baka, bak…”
“Care to tell your dorm president what’s going on here?”
“Suka-chan, shush! You can be so officious sometimes! Mitsuru-senpai, did you put something in the punch bowl?”
“..ka…huh? Oh, um…punch bowl? Me? Something in the punch bowl? What makes you say that?”
The two younger boys proceeded to admonish the unrepentant culprit while his cohort gracefully, silently slid off the stoop and fell flat on his face in the shrubbery.
And really, that’s all I remember. Thank God!
Shinobu clasped his hands together and blew into them. His gloves had given off as much heat as they could, exposed as they were, and the boy was finally beginning to feel the intense chill in the room. But he endured it, refusing to give in to the temptation of snuggling under the parkas with his friends. He considered it his penance.
Shinobu didn’t know if he had said anything else besides that piece of drivel he had bawled out at the party. He hoped not. He hoped he hadn’t inadvertently blurted out something stupid like “Mitsuru, I love you” in his drunken stupor. He didn’t think so.
Still, after the party and then during the trip to the resort, it seemed Mitsuru had become prone to giving him covert glances when he thought Shinobu’s attention was elsewhere. He was wrong, of course. Shinobu was always hyper-aware of everything his roommate said or did. So Mitsuru’s secret scrutiny had not gone unnoticed.
Shun and Hasukawa were oblivious, as per usual. The two younger boys had simply been too excited at the prospect of fun and freedom in the snow, and all at the expense of their beloved sempai. The promise of two weeks away from school and dorm food was enough to put Shun and Hasukawa in vacation heaven.
Their enthusiasm was infectious in its own way, and Shinobu had managed to set aside the slight twinges of irritation at the thought of the two boys’ company. He had really planned the trip on the spur of the moment, galvanized into action by the jealousy that had irrationally surged in him when he had spied the empty chocolate box. Shinobu had thought it would have been the perfect opportunity to get Mitsuru alone to discuss his burgeoning feelings for the boy.
Ah, the best laid plans of mice and men…Shinobu thought wryly to himself. How was I supposed to know that Shun and Hasukawa had no plans for break either? And that they would assume they were invited? Come to think of it, did I invite them? No, I distinctly recall never mentioning that they were invited.
Still, Hasukawa and Shun did provide welcome distraction from Shinobu’s preoccupation. They had all spent that first week tromping through snow drifts, starting impromptu snowball battles, sneaking into the inn’s kitchens for late-night hot cocoa adventures and enjoying other various activities that warranted normal teen-age boy fun.
But Shinobu had not forgotten his original purpose in planning the trip in the first place. By the second week, he had screwed his courage to the sticking point enough that he had been ready to divulge his growing attraction to his roommate, Hasukawa and Shun be damned. He had had secret conferences with the indulgent inn keeper, who seemed to know more than he was letting on, and had received some priceless information. A two-mile trek higher up the mountain led to a secluded cabin that seemed perfect for Shinobu’s needs.
So Shinobu had casually suggested the hike to his friend. Mitsuru had heartily agreed, but his seeming innocence to Shinobu’s ulterior motives had panicked the boy at the last minute, and Shinobu had exhorted the two younger ones to accompany them. Shun and Hasukawa had vehemently argued against going. They were too busy cajoling the inn keeper’s daughter for sleigh rides and sweets. But Shinobu had persisted in that inexorable way of his and the two had finally, grudgingly relented. Hasukawa, especially, was not pleased by this turn of events and had grumbled all the way up the mountain.
Then the storm had hit.
And the cabin had proved to be nothing more than a temporary shelter for hunters; it had not meant to be a cozy lovers’ nest as Shinobu had been led to believe. There was no hearth, no furniture to speak of; just a rickety square box with chinks in the logs that allowed the harsh wind access into its interior. Thank the fates that the last person who had sought haven in its depths had had the courtesy to provide he cabin’s next occupants with a stack of twigs and deadwood, which the boys had found in the corner of the room.
They had hastily dug up a sketchy firepit in the dirt-packed center of the room, and Shun, ever-practical, had produced a used book of matches from his pockets. Shinobu had despaired. He didn’t know how long the storm would last and their supply of matches and wood could, in all probability, run out before someone could rescue them. Hasukawa had noticed this too, and had been glaring daggers at his sempai ever since.
Which brings us back to the present.
Shinobu transferred his hands under his armpits and stamped his feet to ward off the numbness developing there. The storm seemed to be letting up a bit; the wind no longer howled as loudly as it had been. How long had they been gone? How long before the inn keep got worried enough to send someone to find them? It seemed like they’d been stuck in the cabin for an eternity. Shinobu was beginning to develop slight claustrophobia in the dark, close quarters.
He turned away from the window, sick of staring at his reflection, and was startled out of his reverie by the sight of a pair of amethyst eyes blinking sleepily at him. Mitsuru was awake.
“Shinobu…?”
I could plummet into those eyes and never come back up again.
The boys exchanged a long, searching look. Shinobu felt naked under that piercing perusal.
“Shinobu, come back to bed.”
“What?!” Shinobu blanched in stunned incomprehension.
“I said, come back under the parkas. It’s freezing! Are you crazy?”
Oh. Of course. Mitsuru hadn’t really said what he thought – what he wished – he said. Duh.
However, Shinobu had had enough of contemplation. He was really more of a doer than a thinker. The time and setting couldn’t have been more conducive to heartfelt confessions. It was dark and private (Hasukawa and Shun were still asleep) and silent. The wind had ceased whistling through the cracks in the walls. The world was breathless, waiting.
“Mitsuru,” Shinobu began, moving toward the other boy, “I have something to tell you.”
“Hai?” Was that hope in Mitsuru’s face? Was that an eager, expectant glimmer in his amethyst eyes? Was Shinobu on drugs?
“Mitsuru, I think I lo---“
A sudden rumbling disruption from outside shattered the moment.
Of course. Perfect. Couldn’t have planned this better.
“Ho, the cabin!” A loud, booming voice hailed and the door to the cabin sprang open as a burly, hooded figure entered abruptly. It was immediately followed by a smaller, but no less bundled figure who took off an orange muffler that matched his hair.
“The troll!” Hasukawa and Shun chorused in amazement, having awoken at the sound of the Range Rover’s approach.
Mitsuru gaped as his nemesis grinned cheerily from the doorway. Shinobu felt his stomach churn in frustration.
The fifth ring, Shinobu closed his eyes briefly. I’m in the fifth ring of hell.