My Darling Please

Chapter One:
Sweet Memories

What you thought was the sound of one of the most wonderful guitarists in the world had actually been the sound of your heart breaking. And only because you were a smart person did you figure this out later, other wise it was so subtle that you would never have been able to tell. What were those lyrics again? Something about being an easy lover..."she'll take your heart but you won't feel it". Only in this case the "she" was a "he" and just like the lyrics in one of his songs he had you begging "Please, please...onegai!" so very long ago. It was so funny how something so little, so brief, could effect you so deeply. But then again, it was said that the most mysterious of people had the ability to capture you in ways that no one else could. Which is exactly what he did; this guitar toting samurai. It amazed you to think that he was once your own, that you had once held his much larger frame in your arms and comforted those dark, steely, undecipherable eyes. You almost cried at the loss of his scent on your clothing and skin. It took your breath away and brought a stain of color to your cheeks just remembering what else the two of you shared, not for public eyes or ears. And it hurt you that there he was on television strumming and singing away as if nothing and no one had ever effected him as deeply as he had you.


You took a breath and watched his visage on the ten different sized televisons in a shop window. To others you were a typical pop-star gazer, but inside you were riding a rollercoaster of memories. It had been at least four years (going on five) since you had dared to watch anything about him for as long as you were now. Until now you hadn't allowed yourself the luxury of remembering all that you had been through. All that he had offered you and how one moment of betrayal on both parts had brought it all crashing down into a thousand pieces like broken glass. You'd like to think that his more "personal" songs were directed towards you, but you knew that there would be no such luck. It had been too long. Years in the life of a pop star meant thousands of people coming and going in your life on an almost daily basis. He had no doubt moved on, and so should you. But, because of your stubborn ways and cutting him out of your life entirely for so long, you had yet to reflect upon the good and the bad to come up with your own decision about what had really taken place so many years ago. And now seemed as good a time as ever.


So there you stood in front of an electronics shop reminiscing about the most androgynous man most people back home have ever seen and all that the two of you had been through. Under his stylish untamed mane of hair, through his Visualism and florescent colored clothing, behind the wild bohemian make up was a man that felt and dreamed louder than anyone you had ever known. Being with him was like being alive to the fulest capacity, and it scared the shit out of you. You who were used to your quiet bookstores and overpriced coffee shops, the presumed beatnick and silent lover of all types of music. You who had kept to yourself and lived on your own during college, even when you moved to an entirely knew country. You who had kept yourself in check and saved for the day when you would be married to "Mr. Right". You who, on more than one occaision, wondered what the fuck this eligible and talented man was doing with you and did not care at all only moments later when he made love to you in the most wonderful ways.


But, seeing his face and hearing him do what he did best with as much (if not more) passion as the last time you laid eyes on him made you ache with sadness and nastalgia, albeit the last time you saw him was in real life, his image blurry from the tears corroding their way down your cheeks.


It all started the last semester of college for you. You had transfered out of college in the United States to try your hand at International dealings, and what better way to do so than to cut yourself off from the Mother Land completely? It would be a complete overstatement to say that your first semester had gone wonderfully. Not only were your language skills horrible, but you didn't fit in at all. Most of the people you found were either too Pop or too Dark. Sitting somewhere in the middle, one would think that it was a perfect place to be to balance out the otherworldly madness that is Japan; but, no. That didn't happen for you at all. The more and more you tried to fit in, the more you found yourself being pulled away from who you really were. And as your ability to comprehend the difficult language grew and grew, you noticed that you weren't on the same honorific terms as others around you. You were the foreigner, the new kid, the dork from America who read manga in English and listened to show tunes. So you withdrew yourself and began focusing on goals that would be achieved in later years. You built yourself a fortress of propriety and aloofness, all to keep yourself from feeling alone once again. Little did you know you would feel more alone than ever in two years time.


Golden Week during your Spring semester was spent alone as usual, or at least you had planned it to be. To keep you from seeming completely "emo-standoffish" you did have one friend you went out with, when the mood struck: Miyu, one of the most honest people you would ever come to know. She was the exact opposite of you, like a cute little dog that just kept yap-yap-yapping away. At first it was annoying how she was always harping about your appearance and attitude, it reminded you a lot of your mother...gag. But then her concern for your well being warmed you, made you feel at least a little appreciated, and you found yourself worrying when she hadn't contacted you within six to eight hours at a time. Her petite form and long straight hair made you green with envy, especially considering her hair was the rare red-brown color that most Japanese did not have. You had to remind yourself that even though Miyu was small and cute, she was a very sensitive time bomb just waiting to explode at the wrong word or look. Scary really, but she was a beautiful person, and you thanked God that she came into your life by tripping over your bag while carrying a tossed salad in the cafeteria, another day you had laughed without inibition. Miyu had taken upon herself, the task of pulling you out of the emotional hole you dug yourself into, and when she told you her newly found quest you experienced the most enlightening amount of laughter since you had moved to the small island nation.


"I'm not joking Karisu-chan!" she said in a high pitched voice with hurt expression pulled tight across her face.


You striaghtened your face as best as you could, for what you were about to say took a large amount of courage, "Krrrrriisss...annunciate your 'R's Miyu-chan, AAaaahRRRR's," you said making an elaborate overshow of how to correctly pronounce an 'R'. Miyu's little moonshaped face turned the shade of a strawberry and her cheeks puffed out giving her the looked of a seriously ticked off blowfish. You tightened your lips together in an attempt to keep from laughing, but as a little air escaped as a snort from your nose the bomb that is Miyu went off sending you into fits of giggles.

"I'm being serious over here and you're correcting my English?" she cried turning even more red, which didn't help at all, but she couldn't help it. Poor blowfish. You took a deep breath and sat up to look at her again. When you opened your mouth the only sound that escaped was a strangled wheeze like noise that errupted into another set of giggles.
 
"OH FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!" She screamed and slammed her hand on the bed next to her.

"I can't help it Miyu-chan!" you said wiping the tears that began pooling at the corners of your eyes, "You're just so cute when you get angry. Like a...like a vermillion pufferfish!" The look she gave you ws enough to kill the mood and you apologized quietly before straightening yourself out and gave he the "go-on-I'm-listening" face.


"So, as I was saying. Your boring life and depressing clothing is starting to effect me and then when I realized that your state of inexplicable unhappiness effected my day...needless to say I was a little pissed off."


"And, this is supposed to help me how?"


"Shut up, I'm not finished," your eyebrows shot up as she stood up and began pacing around the room. She moved from one side of the small dormitory bedroom to the other waving her hands around in grand gestures as if it would clarify what she was saying. She began on the topic of her brainstorming and how she noticed that you were a fan of good music. My, however did she come up with that? She must have really dug deep...cough. You had no clue when you had tuned her out but the last thing out of her mouth brought you crashing back into the room with a wide eyed expression, "So, what I've decided to do is get us both a job that will start during Golden Week and finish up at the end of summer vacation! Isn't that exciting?!" she finished plopping onto your bed with a gleeful expression. You mouth had fallen open and you stared at her with the most incredulous look you could muster.

After blinking the shock from your eyes you stammered, "You did what now?!"

She smiled and continued as if it was her cue, "And not just any jobs, but paid internships with a record lable!" After several moments of blank staring on your part she spoke up again, "Okay, so I didn't JUST do it for you, but still I think it would be a great opportunity for you to cut loose and let your ptential become skill. Think about it, with this internship we can open up so many doors! Think of the possibilities!"

"Miyu..."

"Yes?"

"How did you get my information in order to fill out the Internship application?" you asked a little put off and confused as to how you landed an intership without filling out an application.

She blushed and mummbled so softly it almost sounded like a single word,"YouleftajobapplicationopenonyourlaptopsoIcopieditandusedtheinformationtosendinoneonline." You simply stared at her for what felt like hours as she fidgeted and squirmed under your scruitinizing gaze.

"I'm actually proud of you," you said after a while. This was the first time that Miyu had gone and done something to "improve your mood" without telling you first.

"Really?" She beamed.

"Yeah, I'm shocked and bubbling with pride because I was able to rub my coniving side into you somehow," you siad with a laugh.

"Well, that's not the only thing that's going to make you proud then...." she trailed off, her smile growing wider by the second. There was no way that look could be a good thing.

X-x-X-x-X

God help Miyu because you were going to kill her. That's what was going to happen to her. You were going to get home, get a knife, stab her in the face with it, and she was going to die. How in the world did you allow her to talk you into this? Oh, that's right she has all of your personal information on file and can use it against you in evil minion-ey ways, that bitch. She had signed you up for Personal Assistant training, meaning that all of you language skills would be put to the test, as well as your social skills...or what little you had. Miyu had chosen music production as her forte, but then again this wasn't supposed to be a joy ride.