Love You Again: A Drawn Novel

by Marian Tee

  Blog #739

  Remember the professor who asked me why I couldn’t draw shoujo anymore? She gave me a couple of titles to read (or in some cases re-read).

  Bambi to Dhole

  Haou Airen

  Hana to Akuma

  (P.S. Spoiler alert if you haven’t read any of the titles above. You have been warned! Seriously!)

  And for my assignment, she wants me to write about any similarities or lessons I’ve learned from reading the titles. I’m thinking she probably wants an essay, but unfortunately for the professor, her assignment had struck all kinds of chords in me that bullet points are all I can manage.

  So, similarities---

  Shite happens.

  Shite happens.

  Shite happens.

  And as for the lessons these manga have taught me:

  Happy-ever-afters come in all shapes and sizes.

  Death doesn’t spare shoujo.

  And I…might be able to draw shoujo again.

  Rain’s started to fall by the time the session ends, and the sound draws people out of their shells as they’re given a reason to linger and words to replace the silence. A smile curves on my lips as I watch them from the half-open second-floor window, huddling by the steps while the conversation starts to flow among them like a budding crescendo. It starts with the low, faint notes of his and hellos, and as the shyness fades, the melody becomes just a little faster, its tone rising just a little higher on the scale as words and laughter blend. It’s like watching a person fall in love with himself. It’s a beautiful sight – one I know I’d never have noticed if someone hadn’t broken me out of my own shell.

  “Time to go, senpai.” Yuki comes up behind me like a thief in the night, and he lets out a low chuckle when I jump in surprise.

  “Stop sneaking up on me,” I grumble even as I turn around to face him, my heart beating hard. It’s only been ten minutes since he left my side, but it’s enough to make me miss him. I try not to stare, but it’s impossible. He’s always been beautiful in my eyes, but it’s more than that now. The pain of losing Yuki makes me not want to take anything for granted, and I find myself cherishing every second I have to just see his face.

  “How was it?” he asks quietly.

  I pretend to frown, asking, “What do you think?”

  Yuki retaliates by pinching my nose, and as I yelp in surprise, he says, “I’m being serious here.” But his baby blues are bright. I know I should be fine if it’s just affection in his gaze, but I’ve come to accept I’m a terribly selfish and ridiculously impatient person. I want to think that it’s love I see in those eyes of his, even if it’s love he’s still blind to.

  “Senpai?”

  Oh. This time, I see something else in his gaze. He’s genuinely worried, and my chest tightens at the realization. I shakily reach up to cup his face. “Yuki.”

  He tenses.

  “Thank you.” I think of the last three hours, listening to readers share what they felt when they first discovered my work, hearing them gasp, giggle, and actually say ‘swoon’ out loud when I started sketching on stage---

  A thousand emotions clog my throat, and I say again, “Thank you.” My voice shakes. “Thank you, Yuki.” So many other things I want to thank him for, but it’s no longer possible to speak. All I can do is look at Yuki, willing him to read everything in my eyes, and when he sucks in his breath, I know he’s heard what I couldn’t say.

  Both of us are quiet when we start walking back to the train station. At nine o’clock, the crowd has somewhat thinned, and with no longer any reason to rush, I’m able to take the sights in more leisurely. My eyes light up when I spy one of the popular photo sticker clubs, and I turn to Yuki, asking impulsively, “Can we try that?”

  Yuki smiles down at me. “No.”

  “B-but---”

  “I’d like to take things slowly,” Yuki deadpans. “So please respect my wishes.”

  I burst into laughter, not having seen that coming at all. When we’re officially back together then, I promise myself. And he’s going to regret turning me down now. Next time we stop by, I’ll make sure I ask him to do something really cheesy---

  “You win, senpai.” Yuki starts dragging me towards the shop.

  “Huh? What? I didn’t say anything.”

  “You didn’t have to.” Yuki’s gaze skims the posters on the display window as he speaks. “It’s obvious your pretty little mind started scheming things when I told you no.”

  How did he---

  Yuki turns to me, and I immediately try to look innocent. “I don’t know what you mean---ow.” I rub my forehead gingerly. “Will you please stop that?”

  “Then will you please stop thinking you can lie to me?” He’s perfectly mimicked my tone, and despite everything I find myself laughing again.

  After exchanging his bills for small change, we check out the different photo sticker machines, with Yuki grimacing most of the time as we take in the gaudy set of props made available to customers. Taking pity on him, I choose what seemed like the simplest one, and my heart skips a beat when we step inside the booth.

  “You know this is just for high school kids, don’t you?” Yuki mutters.

  I roll my eyes. “Is not---” I stop mid-sentence when I see him taking the only stool inside the booth. “I’m supposed to be the one sitting there,” I protest.

  “And so you shall,” Yuki says silkily as he leans forward to press one of the buttons on the screen.

  “What did you do?” I ask suspiciously.

  “Make sure nothing here shows up on the screen outside,” he answers promptly.

  “Oh. That’s good---”

  Yuki hauls me to his lap.

  Not.

  I quickly try to get up, but Yuki’s arms bound me to him like chains. A moment later, I feel his hands trailing down to curve around my waist---

  “Ah!” I’m suddenly up in the air.

  “Sssh, senpai.” He swivels the seat sideways as he places me back on his lap. But this time, he has me straddling him, and I have no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist or have them stick past the booth’s curtains.

  “Oh my God, Yuki.” I want to bang my head against the wall. Why did I even think I could take a simple photo sticker with him? This is Yuki, after all. He’s a god, and his greatest power is to torment me like no one else can.

  “This way,” Yuki purrs, “we both have fun.”

  “It’s not---” The machine starts counting down, and I freak out. “It’s starting!”

  “And so it is.” Yuki flashes a wicked grin as he cups my face. “Ready?”

  “No!” But Yuki’s mouth has started nibbling down my neck, and I bite my lip hard to stop myself from moaning.

  8…7…6…

  “You smell so good, senpai.” Yuki starts sucking, and my neck arches instinctively under his mouth as the excruciatingly sweet sensation threatens to put me under a spell.

  5…4…3…

  Yuki’s fingers trail up to slowly trace my lips, and I almost whimper. I know exactly what he’s tempting me with, and I’m doing my best to resist---

  2…

  But it’s impossible.

  1…

  My lips start to part.

  0…

  Blinding light flashes inside the booth just as I start sucking his fingers. I feel Yuki’s hard body shudder against me, and the knowledge that I’m the cause of it completes the spell. Logic fades as passion takes over, and I suck harder on his fingers as my breasts swell invitingly against his chest.

  Light flashes anew as Yuki’s mouth moves back up and covers mine in a hungry, open-mouthed kiss. He’s biting my lip, sucking my tongue, and it’s all so exquisitely hot blood rushes to my head and I find myself raking my nails over his back.

  More. More. More.

  Another light flashes just as Yuki tears his mouth away. I start to whimper in protest, but then I feel his mouth moving down my chest, and my whole body throbs as I realize what
he means to do. My eyes cling to his as I feel his hands sweep down and he starts to bend me back.

  Oh God, oh God---

  His mouth latches to one pouting nipple, and it takes everything in me not to scream. He starts to suck, and tears burn my eyes.

  It’s so, so good.

  And then suddenly, it’s over.

  What? How? Why? I’m in a total daze as Yuki pulls away. When he places me back on my feet, my knees give out, but Yuki is there to catch me, chuckling as he pulls me close and has me leaning against him between his legs.

  He cups my chin from behind and slowly guides my gaze to the side. That’s when I see several pair of feet outside our booth, and I jerk, not realizing that there are already people waiting.

  “You still have three minutes to edit,” the voiceover from the machine chirps.

  Reaching for the digital pen, I start to write on the screen with a shaky hand, all the while conscious of Yuki’s gaze following my every movement.

  For the first photo, I simply write the date, and for the second, I write our names together. For the last one, I write the words that used to turn him on like nothing else could.

  Aishiteiru.

  It means…I love you.

  Through the mirror, I watch an expressionless mask falls over his face at the words, but it doesn’t hurt me the way I thought it would. Maybe because the memory of what he did for me earlier is still fresh. Or maybe it’s because I’ve grown up. Maybe it’s all that and more, but what matters is that it’s true…and that I believe one day, he’ll know the same thing I do.

  We can make things work between us again.

  Outside the booth, the high school girls literally squeal when they see Yuki, and I could have sworn I’ve seen a couple of heart-shaped eyes as well. “Please keep distracting them,” I say under my breath. Yuki glares at me, but I pretend not to notice it as I turn back to the booth and guard the release box with my life. I love that he doesn’t like to flirt with other girls, but sometimes a boy’s gotta do what a boy’s gotta do, and no way am I going to risk letting anyone take a peek at our photo stickers.

  By the time we leave the club, stickers in hand, Yuki looks faintly harassed, and I can’t help giggling over it even as I do my best to apologize. “S-sorry.” But then I remember the look on his face when he realizes that the crowd around him just keeps getting bigger, and I lose myself in another fit of giggles. Apparently, a teen mag has recently released a list of their hottest picks for guys 21 and below, and Yuki’s topped the list without even knowing it.

  “Stop laughing,” he growls.

  “I want to,” I gasp, “but I can’t.”

  Yuki stares at me in disgust, but this only sets me off for another round. Gaaaah. He’s just too, too adorable for words. It always amazes me how he doesn’t care at all about his looks, and it’s practically surreal that the whole time we were going out he never had eyes for anyone but me. I mean, come on. Except for my love for smutty girl comics, I’m plain in every way while he’s…not, and that’s the only way of putting it without making me look like a loser.

  The thought is like a black hole, and before I know what’s happening, it’s already sucking me into a vortex of self-doubt. Yuki can have any girl in the world. Someone a hundred times prettier, smarter – or even just someone strong enough to stand on her own feet so---

  “Do you think we’re doing the right thing?” I hear myself ask.

  Yuki frowns. “About what?”

  “Trying again.” I want to smile but I’ve got another earthquake in my mouth, and all I can do is fight to be coherent. “You don’t deserve someone like me---” A flick on my forehead shuts me up.

  “I have a question, senpai,” Yuki says oh so politely. “What do you call someone who’s attracted to an idiot?”

  “Another idiot?”

  “Correct.” Yuki flashes a dangerously pleasant smile. “And since those words of yours earlier were the very definition of idiocy---” Yuki’s gaze bores through me. “What would that make you?”

  I wince. “An…idiot?” I’m a little confused. I think I’ve just been insulted, but I think I’ve also been complimented.

  “And since I’m attracted to an idiot like you---”

  I’m even more confused now. Do I say ‘ouch’ or ‘yay’ to that?

  “What does that make me?”

  My eyes widen. So that’s what this is all about.

  “Senpai?”

  I say in a very small voice, “An idiot.”

  “Exactly.” Yuki captures a lock of my hair. “And I hate being made an idiot.”

  I watch him wind my hair around his finger as he speaks, and I can’t help thinking he wants to do the same thing to my neck. The thought makes me gulp, and I whisper, “Sorry.”

  “Apology accepted.” His voice is even more polite than usual.

  It’s a bad sign.

  “But unfortunately, your apology won’t cut it.”

  And I’m right.

  He lowers his head until his mouth touches my ear, and a sensual shudder racks my body.

  “I think---”

  I find myself holding my breath. Please, please, please---

  “You need to be punished again.”

  A whimper escapes me. Thank God!

  Yuki rears back, his stunned gaze clashing with mine.

  Oh.

  Shite.

  Did I say that out loud?

  Word of the Day: Rabu Hoteru

  The Japanese term for love hotel that primarily caters to short-stay guests

  In Japan, these establishments are extremely popular with couples and known to offer a diverse range of themed suites.

  Although Kabuchiko is Japan’s largest red-light district, it doesn’t look that much different from the rest of Tokyo. You still get the city’s famous bright lights, clustered buildings, and crowded streets. Even so, you’d be crossing an invisible line in most locals’ eyes the moment you make it here. It doesn’t matter if you say you’re just there for the sights. Most of them won’t believe anything you say. Kabuchiko is where the host clubs and love hotels are, and if you’re going there it only means one thing.

  “Will you please just get on with it and choose one?” I hiss under my breath. This is the tenth love hotel we’ve checked out, and since all of them seem the same, I’m thinking he’s just dragging things out because he likes how the whole process is embarrassing me to death.

  “Please be patient, senpai. You may be experienced with stuff like this, but it’s my first time.”

  And of course, Yuki being Yuki, he has to say that just when a couple happens to walk past us.

  The two look at me in shock. It’s obvious they think I’m taking advantage of Yuki, and if I weren’t so mortified, I’d probably find it funny. Yuki is six-foot-four and several stones heavier. Does it look like I can force him to do anything?

  I start to tell them he’s just joking, but then Yuki takes my face in his hands and looks soulfully into my eyes. “I’m truly nervous about this. I know I promised that you can handcuff me---”

  I hastily slap my hand over his mouth. “Will you quit it?” I turn to the couple, hoping to explain it’s really not what they think, but they’ve already hurried away like they’ve just witnessed a crime.

  Behind me, Yuki starts to laugh.

  Whirling back to face him, I grumble, “This is not a laughing matter. What if they report me to the police or something?”

  Yuki only grins. “Let them. That’s only going to spice things up.”

  “Bully!” I raise my arm to punch him on the shoulder, but Yuki only grabs my hand and brings it to his lips, and just like that my anger is vanquished. I’m a trembling, hot mess by the time he lifts his head, and the way his eyes gleam tells me he knows it, too.

  “Someone’s excited,” Yuki teases in a low voice, and my face reddens even more.

  “Am not.”

  But the words seem to fall on deaf ears, with Yuki finally deciding
to end my misery and leading us inside the love hotel. My heart feels torn as we enter. The mangaka in me is excited. It’s my first time to be in this type of establishment, and I’m eager to take in every sight and commit it to memory, knowing how invaluable it will be to my work. On the other hand, the ordinary girl in me is blushing like mad. I never thought I’d have my first time in a love hotel, and even worse is how full of people the lobby is, and of course all of them know why we’re all here.

  “Ohayo gozaimasu,” the male receptionist greets us when it’s our turn to come up to the counter. “What kind of room would you be interested in and for how long?”

  “Umm.” I have trouble concentrating as Yuki wraps his arms around me from behind and pulls me close. Clearing my throat, I ask, “W-what choices are there?”

  The guy takes out an iPad and swipes on the screen. “Here you go.”

  “T-thanks,” I mumble as I take the tablet from him. The choices are endless, and I point to the first innocuous name I spot on the list. “This one please.” The word ‘nama’ is written in hiragana, which translates to ‘raw.’ I’m guessing it would have to do with sashimi or something similar. Whatever it is, it should be better than the other suites, which have names like UFO Room and Pee Room.

  “Adventurous,” the receptionist remarks. “Lucky guy.”

  “Err, thanks.” I wonder if that means they’re going to serve us some weird delicacy that only locals would enjoy.

  “How long?”

  “Overnight.” My voice rises a little at the end as Yuki holds my hair up and starts kissing the back of my neck. With his lips still pressed to the sensitive skin, he lets my hair fall over one shoulder, and then his mouth starts to move towards the slope of my shoulder.

  My fingers grip the edge of the counter, instinctively finding something to cling to as the wetness pooling between my legs makes my legs weaken. How is it I was able to last for years without feeling aroused a single instance, but now that I’m with Yuki I go through my panty liners like I have a month-long period?

  When I look back at the male receptionist, he grins, and after a guarded look at Yuki, he switches to English, asking, “He good, right?”