A Mix Of Metals

Chapter Six: The Weight Of The Past

Harriet was a little stunned, confused. She didn't quite know what to make of what had just occurred at the river, with the man she had despised, at first.

As she stepped through the forest, pleasant bird song accompanied her thoughts over the awkward moment. The atmosphere felt light and chirpy, but inside her stomach, a knot had formed. But it wasn't an unpleasant knot. She couldn't help but smile as she pictured the scene again and again.

Mizu, he... he seemed so vulnerable, in that pool.

He was barely able to speak when she came up from the depths of the murky water. Even though she herself had felt very self-conscious and every minute had been quite excruciating, she couldn't help but admit that she had found a little guilty pleasure in teasing him, especially after realising his embarrassment was getting the better of him. There, it had been, clear in his eyes, a discomfort. Was it shyness? Was it fear?

At first sight, such a fearless man, lacking the ability to express any emotion... But there, he'd let a hint of feeling show on his face, a sense of defencelessness.

The twigs and leaves cushioned her bare feet and tickled them as she walked on around the trees, shoes dangling lazily from her fingers.

Mizu, water. He suits his own name, probably more so than I suit mine own. He is like water. Ungraspable, fluid, adaptable, composed and cold... all at once.

More intrusive thoughts started pouring in. But this time, she couldn't help but blush. Had he sneaked a peak at her when she'd gotten out of the water? She shook her head, annoyed at the fact she had even thought of that. She unconsciously stroked the skin of her arm, wondering how she would have felt had he looked at her; her eyes widened and stared into space. The sunrays poked at her face and made her shield her gaze with one arm. She finally arrived at the inn.

As she went in, a few people recognized her from that morning and made comments under their breath. She eyed them defiantly and made her way around the tables. The inn was considerably emptier at this time of day. It was mid-afternoon, people had left after lunch.

She suddenly spotted a large, imposing man with fiery hair, sitting alone at one of the tables in the far back. He was hunched over his plate, one elbow on the table. He was eating slowly and staring in the distance, a dark frown drawn upon his face. He seemed weakened, but the colour had come back to his cheeks a little. Harriet wavered for a short moment, but her hesitation disappeared when she remembered who he really was. And she'd have to confront him one day.

Fowler looked up and grimaced slightly when he saw her approaching, but did not change his position. He kept eating. Harriet slowed down and grabbed her own chest with one hand; her heart was beating uncontrollably, increasing in speed with every step she took that brought her closer to him. When she was only inches away, he leaned against the back of his chair and crossed his hands on his stomach. His hairy chest was protruding from his shirt, and she could perceive a piece of the cloth that was wrapped around his bad shoulder. Although he was sitting, he was still very imposing and his presence could be felt across the whole room.

"Fowler," Harriet said, tentatively.

"Aye, what can I do for you, milady," he replied. In no way did his tone, or even his attitude, match the meaning or intent of the sentence he had just uttered. He eyed her and a grin started to form slowly across his lips as he sensed her discomfort. Hariett took a deep breath before she spoke, but to her amazement, Fowler carried on in a jaded manner. "You know me, apparently. I presume our encounter dates back to my very dark English past, long before my stay in Japan." He paused, pursing his lips. "Perhaps you're one of the many young whores I had the pleasure to fuck in London. Although that would have made you a child whore." His mischievous eyes examined her entire face and blinked slowly as he relaxed his gaze. Harriet tried to contain the sheer shock his words provoked in her. He was truly vermin. She thought he couldn't be lying about not remembering who she was. If he did, she wasn't sure he would be so confident.