Chapter 7

Chapter 7

 

Yuta sat on the docks, smoking a cigarette. He flicked his ashes into the water, watching as the koi eagerly swam to inspect them, turning away with disinterest once realizing that the grey flecks he showered upon the water’s surface were not food.
            He had transferred the mountain of clothes he had purchased for Andria into his hiking backpack. Not only would it be easier to carry once he started making his way back to the lair, but it also attracted less interest from the locals than two armfuls of pink paper shopping bags.
The pack sat beside him, full�"to-bursting with Andria’s new clothes, plus the other items from town she had requested. Those had not been near as painful to obtain after the torturous incident in the women’s clothes store, not even the women’s razors and lilac-scented deodorant he had managed to find at the local drug store.
            Again, Yuta thought back to his conversation with Yenko the previous night. Was she really worth it? It was a serious question, one he still didn’t know how to answer. Technically speaking, he had no loyalties to her. No obligations to protect her. When it came down to it, her life was not worth losing the life of his Messenger. He had shared a sacred bond with Yenko since the day he was born; this human child had only entered his life the day before.
            The last embers of his cigarette spent, he flicked the butt into the water and rose to his feet. Slinging his heavy backpack over his bare shoulders, the jacket now stowed with the rest of the garments, he craned his neck skyward to take in the view of his home from human eyes. The mountain loomed like the mightiest of Titans, keeping watch over the sacred lake and the tiny people that inhabited its blackened shores. Somewhere, past the point on its face where the clouds masked it from view, Andria was waiting.
            Before he could stop the troublesome thought from rearing its ugly head, it arose: And she’s probably naked.

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            For the first time since beginning this crazy adventure, Andria felt strangely at peace. She was lost in a world not her own, numb to everything that had until then been troubling her. She thought nothing, felt nothing but the warm water surrounding her, enveloping her like the arms of a protective giant. She let her limbs float freely, her head resting on a smooth, raised stone to her back. Her eyes were closed, but she could feel the steam rising from the water’s surface, lapping pleasantly at her cheeks.
            The space contained inside the paper walls was, in essence and purpose, a bathroom. The floors were the same, smooth granite as the rest of the lair, but consuming most of the floor-space, carved into the ground itself was a pool, or bath rather. It was the size of a swimming pool, though fashioned to look like her own piece of Lake Towada. She could feel smooth, rounded stones at the pool’s base, no doubt matching the ring of stones that lined the water’s edge. On the far side of the bath, against the wall, a relatively large stone structure was carved out of the mountain, made to look like the face of the mountain itself. The mist and steam swirling around it reminded her of the view from the clouds. Cascading from a point several feet up was a small, steady stream of water that acted as a low-pressure shower.

Protruding from another wall well away from the pool was a large stone basin filled with water. Hanging on the wall behind it was a large, ovular mirror with a stone frame. A small, in-ground toilet hid in a discreet space not far from the basin. It was made in the traditional Japanese style: a hole in the ground, formed in such a way that one had to squat.
            Andria had forgotten how long she had been soaking. One glance in the mirror had sent her practically diving into the pool’s warm depths. Her hair had been matted to an extent she had rarely ever let it reach, salt from the lake encrusted to the tips. Her makeup was virtually gone, though she had never really had much need for it. She merely liked the way it enhanced her already comely features.
            Her stiff, smelly school uniform was scattered in pieces across the floor, her skirt thrown somewhere near her head. She kept spotting it out of the corner of her eye, its pungent smell ruining the intoxicating effects of the pool’s steam. Sometime well over an hour ago, she had had to shove it farther away from her.
            It felt so good to be clean. She ran her hands through her hair. She had been forced to wash it with bar-soap, but shampoo and conditioner were among her short list of items that Yuta would hopefully be able to fetch from town.
            Yuta.
            An image of his smiling face stuck in her mind, causing her to blush in remembrance. She couldn’t lie, he was very attractive. Even his shaggy hair, normally a feature Andria shirked from in guys, only seemed to accentuate the handsome quality of his features. He seemed very laid-back, in either Form. Even as a towering Dragon, his appearance was breathtaking, majestic even. He fascinated her.
            Still, despite the kindness he had already shown her, something about him still frightened her slightly. She simply didn’t know his nature well enough yet, and he was, after-all, a beast. His claws, sharpened teeth, and powerful limbs all attested to this fact. What was to stop him from eating her? She dreaded the day she made him angry, unsure of whether his probable beast-like nature would start to shine through then.
            She thought back to that morning, the smile that had greeted her when she first woke up. If nothing about his actions, his tedious attention to her needs had been able to convince her, she found her reassurance there.
            When her hands started to prune to a point where it was painful, Andria decided that it was best to get out. She dreaded the notion of donning her old, dirty clothes again, but she hadn’t heard Yuta return. She was beginning to contemplate giving them a quick scrubbing in her spent bathwater when something caught her eye. Sitting just inside the paper doors was a large, full-to-bursting hiking backpack, the same one Yuta had left with, empty, a couple hours prior. Also, hanging over the top of the paper wall was a large, purple towel.
            Andria stood up in the pool, the top of the water resting just above her bosom. She rang out her hair as best she could and piled it atop her head so it wouldn’t fall into the water. She quickly glanced around, making sure that no wandering eyes could see her; however, she doubted that if Yuta had a mind to, she could stop him from sneaking a view. After all, he could fly, create tunnels out of solid stone with just the wave of a hand, and do any number of curious things thus far unknown to Andria.
            She trusted him, though. The thought seemed unfamiliar and unexpected to Andria. Not really being sure of his personality yet, she trusted him. It felt logical. It felt right.
            She found the stone steps with her foot and began making her way slowly out of the deep bath. The air felt shockingly cool as it hit her bare flesh, a dramatic contrast to the warmth of the steaming water. Fully exposed, she crossed the short space to the paper wall and seized the welcoming towel. She patted dry every dripping surface and then wrapped the towel around her head. The pack sat at her feet, the top flap open. She could see that the pack was full of clothing, but resting on top of the frilly mass of fabric was a small sheet of paper. Across it, sprawled in a shaky hand were the words, “I didn’t look. I promise.”
            Andria laughed to herself and began to withdraw the articles of clothing Yuta had managed to find for her. She was shocked to find some reasonably cute items. When she had sent Yuta on an errand for clothes, she had fully expected him to come back with an armful of jeans and ill-fitting T-shirts. He was, after all, a guy.
            She laid out all of the clothing on the dry spaces of the floor. The blouses, she tried to match with the skirts to make different outfits, while the dresses, and there were many of them, she set to the side on their own. She withdrew so many beautiful items, each one more stunning than the other as she began to near the bottom of the pack, that she began to wonder for what occasions she would be able to wear them all.
            The pack was almost empty. Absently, she reached in once more and withdrew, not clothing, but another sheet of paper. Sprawled across it in the same shaky hand were the simple words, “I’m sorry.”
            Andria looked from the vast display of beautiful clothing she had been given to the note in utter confusion. What did he have to be sorry for?
            Curiously, she peered back into the nearly empty pack.
            She spotted lace.
            Andria reached a tentative hand back into the backpack. To her horror, she withdrew a healthy stack of skimpy lingerie. Eyes glazed with stoic disbelief, she stared at the frilly assortment of lace, bows, and silk clutched tightly in her trembling hand.
            Andria stopped breathing.

 

*          *          *          *          *         

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Andria barked.
            Yuta blushed deep red and turned to face her from where he sat on the couch, mortified. The look of innocent pleading in his eyes faded once he looked at Andria and realized what the object of her fury was. She was stunning, absolutely breathtaking. Her hair was slightly damp and smooth like polished gold, flowing in soft waves across her shoulders and chest. There was a bright pinkness in her cheeks which made her look radiant, never mind that her glow was from sheer embarrassment. She was draped in one of the sundresses Yuta had chosen for her, a pale blue frock with white lace trimming. The skirt puffed out considerably, which emphasized her already very slender legs, and her trim waist was accented by a length of white ribbon, tied into a rather large bow at the back. It wasn’t the most elaborate piece in the collection, he noticed, but still very flattering on her.
            Obviously, she felt differently. Andria clutched the end of the dress’s skirt, holding it out indicatively. “I asked for clothes,” she angrily explained. “These are costumes.”
            Yuta frowned. “I thought you would like them,” he pleaded. Even as he did so, he realized that perhaps he wasn’t being entirely honest. He certainly liked them, but as for Andria’s tastes, he had been more or less clueless. But dresses were what girls wore, right? It had always bothered him to see beautiful women in jeans, trousers, T-shirts, men’s clothing. He didn’t think it was fitting.
            Andria knew she was perhaps overreacting. The shock of finding the underwear Yuta had chosen still hadn’t worn off, but she didn’t dare mention it to him. Despite her embarrassment, she could believe it was an honest mistake. But the collection of clothing he had brought back rubbed violently against her previously established style. She wore dresses to church on occasion, but never as casual attire, and the dresses he chose were far more elaborate and outlandish than anything she might have worn under any circumstances, church included. They reminded her of frocks and costumes she had seen in story books and Disney movies, varied slightly so that they were still perhaps modern in some semblance.
            “You look beautiful,” Yuta argued weakly. Andria caught his eyes. He was hunched over, elbows on knees, hands hanging limply. He looked weakened, helpless, and his eyes stayed trained on her face. His look was somber and his words rang with a sincerity Andria couldn’t help but trust.
            She sighed, “Thank you.” Her muscles relaxed, and her hands released the ruffled edges of her skirt, swinging aimlessly to her side. “You’re wrong,” she argued, “but thank you.”