Twice a Day

Chapter 2: A Slightly Less Windy Day

 A day or two had passed, and you tried not to dwell on the brief visitors. Life went on as usual, with you running errands, generally minding the plants around you and doing whatever else you felt like. With or without surprises, you reaffirmed to yourself that life was good as it was.

However...

Your attempts to forget that visit were only half-successful, truthfully. Jigen seemed likeable enough, but you really couldn't lay your mind off Goemon. There was something about him that interested you, but in order to figure that out, you'd REALLY have to linger on it. You hoped that you would meet him again, even if Jigen said they'd likely not stick around longer. If you got to know him better, surely you would be able to find out what drew you to him.

If you allowed yourself to dwell on the topic, you found that every time you recounted the incident, Jigen got blurrier and blurrier, and Goemon slowly became the focus. You sighed. What cruel fate it was to meet a cute boy and be destined to never see him again.

Still, you kept on. You'd spoken to him all of 15 minutes, and if you'd survived before meeting him, you could survive easily after. By the third day A.G. (After-Goemon) you had returned to routine comfortably.

You woke up later than usual, sunken into your comfy bed. You trudged around, looking for the leftover pastries. Were you out again? You made a mental note to run by the supermarket later. You were low on milk, anyways.

Your eyes barely opened twice as you munched on dry cereal, listening to the wind outside. Maybe you'd visit Grandpa later. It seemed less windy than usual, after all.

The idea put you in a good mood, and you smiled around the spoon you'd shoveled in your mouth. You didn't even need to worry about men who had passed or missing items, and had complete control over your thoughts for the first time since you'd met.

Until that sash got stuck on your post.

For the second time that week, something most assuredly not your own had found its way into the front yard. It was silly to imagine that it, too, belonged to him, right? You gently tugged it free, inspecting it. Really, this could have belonged to anyone, but the odds of this happening back to back were too much!

It was plain black, and a little longer than you'd expected. It was stretched, showing generous usage, and just as faded as that sword's handle.

Faster than last time, you heard footsteps almost as quickly as you'd gotten a hold on the thing. Ah. He knew where to go this time.

"S-Sorry, excuse me." He went silent as you turned, before quickly adding, "Again."

His hair was soaked, showing just how long it was, and water was clinging to his face. Did his training involve an olympic size pool or something? You tried not to focus on how he was holding his kimono closed so tightly his knuckles were white. And yet, by noticing how firm his grip was, you were already paying too much attention, weren't you? Time to look away.

"What's wrong, Mr. Goemon?" You weren't really sure why you kept the respectful 'Mister' gig up, since, even though you respected him, he wasn't much older than you. It felt a little strange, but it was too late to stop now.

"My... A piece of my usual attire has--"

You held out the fabric. "Drifted off again?" He sighed in relief, using his other hand to accept what you'd offered.

He stood uncomfortably, not wanting to free either hand but unable to do anything else. It was a pitiful sight, so you stepped away from the door, motioning your hand to the interior. "You can uh, fix up your clothes in the bathroom?" His face almost screamed relief despite still being bright red, and he bowed in thanks. A very dramatic one, that guy.

He came inside quickly, making a beeline right past your kitchen and living area, straight to the bathroom.

You made it back to the kitchen, pouring a second cup of tea. You knew he'd most likely argue against the hospitality, but the key phrase "I insist" would probably be enough to stop him.

In not much time at all, Goemon was back, still tugging at the sash even though it was more than tight enough. When he saw you at the table, he opened his mouth to argue as you'd expected, but instead silenced himself and sat down with you. You smiled, pushing the other cup across the table to him.

"I must admit, I feel... Guilty."

"Guilty?" you asked.

"You must feel obligated to help me."

For some reason, you began to feel shy. "Oh, no, I just-- You were in trouble! It's only polite. I was raised with manners, Mr... I'm sorry, I've been a little informal, haven't I? I should probably be addressing you by your last name."

Goemon made a muffled cough behind the cup, swallowing thickly. "Ah." He set it down thoughtfully, and paused for far too long. "That would be more appropriate for us."

You stared at each other in silence. As politely as you could muster, you cleared your throat. "So, um, are you gonna tell me your last name?"

"That would be a good idea, yes." He took another drink. You waited. He breathed out harshly, just short of a sigh, before going on. "K-Kushieda."

"Kushieda! That's lovely."

"Mhmm," Goemon said shakily. "Yours is as well."

"Huh?" You tilted your head in confusion.

"Your name."

"Oh! Yeah, thank you..."

The silence was punctuated with the tiny taps on your roof, a noise you'd learned to tune out. However, you could see it slowly wearing Goemon down. With each bump and bap, Goemon's shoulders grew tenser, and his relatively collected expression broke into a more bitter one.

"Excuse me, I..." Whatever he was about to say was cast aside in favor of a more polite question. "Do you hear that? That tapping."

You put down your cup as your other hand made it's way over your mouth. "I'm sorry, I forgot! I probably should have warned you."

"No need to apologize." He looked at you quizzically. "But... You DO hear it, yes?"

Amused, you grinned slightly. "Yes, I do. It's the trees above my house. Their branches haven't been trimmed since this house was built, so it's always been a part of my life."

Goemon's attention was drawn out the window, staring at a tree trunk that clearly wasn't the cause of the noise. "Why do you neglect it?"

You tapped your fingers together. "Well, um, I can't really get up there. Not that I have the tools for it anyways."

Goemon kept staring at the trunk in silence, holding his cup tightly. "I see." He sat almost completely still, still not looking at you. He stood quickly, knocking the table back with his legs. You grabbed the other edge to steady it as you watched him head out the door.

"H-hey!! Mr. Kushieda, wait!" You scurried after him, minding the half-filled cups on the table. What was he planning?