Aberrant: 200X - Wrecking a Life [Complete]

[z-Xiao Saori]

Teacher Abukara looked out of the window of the train, seeing the apartment building come into view. Suddenly, his hands were sweaty, while his throat went completely dry. Swallowing hard, he tightened his tie with a quick, nervous gesture, fighting to keep from straightening his hair again. It was fine; he'd combed it at home. His thick glasses, which he hated, were shoved higher on his face as the train slowed and stopped. He hopped to his feet, knowing that he looked too eager, but unable to stop himself from hurrying forward.

The building was hidden by other buildings now, but he knew the fastest way to the building. He didn't stop for a coffee, or to apologize when he bumped a woman. He just walked forward like a man possessed, feeling more than a little like a man caught in a kabuki drama, knowing that he was wrong in feeling what he felt. But he felt like he was on fire when he was with her, and sometimes, he hoped for what he knew he couldn't have.

At the door to the apartment, he nodded to the doorman, who let him in without questioning. Abukara had been here enough now that he wasn't stopped; sometimes, he imagined that people saw his easy entrance and thought that he lived here, in this expensive building. It was possible, if they didn't notice that his clothes weren't designer labels and that his shoes were just a bit too worn.

He entered the elevator and pressed the button for the right floor, and saw that his hands were shaking. Flushing and angry at himself for being so emotive, he balled his free hand into a fist and pressed it into his hip, while gripping his attaché case closer with his other hand.

He was still focusing on calming himself, and the elevator dinging its arrival on the right floor surprised him. He smoothed down his dark jacket nervously and glanced at himself in the polished metallic doors as they opened. He saw the same pathetic person as always: too thin, too lanky, his clothes clean but worn. Once again, he felt quiet shame, a common emotion since accepting this assignment.

The thick carpet muffled his footsteps, protecting the occupants on this floor the intrusion of his presence. He walked through the halls without hesitation, both eager and unwilling. He wanted to see her; he wanted to be proud of himself. And he wanted her to see him how he saw her.

He knocked on the right door; within a moment, it was opened from the other side by a stern-looking woman. Some of that hardness eased away when the housekeeper saw who it was, and she gave him a short-lived bow. "Teacher Abukara," she said as greeting, not bothering to say more. He was just the help, like herself.

"Naoko," he greeted her in return. He politely returned the bow before stepping forward and slipping off his shoes. The housekeeper offered him white slippers and he put them on as she moved away. He knew where she was going; to get his student.

He moved to the couch and sat down to wait; it was the usual routine. Today, he was a little surprised to see Naoko come back alone. Before he could ask, she said, "She wishes to take her lessons on the balcony."

Abukara nodded. It was a nice day, though that might provide unnecessary distractions to his young student. He would try it her way, and insist they move indoors only if she couldn't focus. Though she rarely had focus problems, not since she'd erupted.

He followed Naoko through the spacious apartment. He didn't really need her to show him the way, but he accepted that Naoko needed to show him. And when he saw her, he understood Naoko's reluctance.

She is more radiant every time I see her, Abukara thought, stumbling to a stop as he stared at her lying in on the bench. She was on her belly, her arms propped up so that she was displaying the curves of her breasts under the thin shirt she wore. Her shapely legs shifted in the air idly, occasionally pausing to rest against her pert behind. Her hair shone true black in the sun, throwing off shades of blue and near-white. She was reading a manga, a slight smile on her lips. That smile was marred by the lollypop she sucked on, and Abukara found himself moving his attaché case in front of his body to hide his reaction to her.

She was driving him mad.

"Saori," Naoko called and she looked up at them. Her black eyes fell on Abukara and he felt as though he'd been struck in the chest when she grinned excitedly at him.

"Hello, Teacher Abukara!" she chirped, setting her book aside and rolling to her feet with grace. She bowed deeply and his eyes fought to not look down her shirt, or to follow her hair as it swept over her shoulder to sway before her. Straightening, she said, "I hope you don't mind having my lessons here."

"No," he said, mortified when he heard his voice catch. She will be the death of me. He cleared his throat and added some sternness to his voice as he added, "So long as you don't become distracted."

She smiled again at that statement, and he saw coy flirtation in the curve of her lips - or did he? That was the worst part of her; sometimes, he thought she was a coy seductress and other times, he believed that she didn't understand what she did to him. His inability to decipher her true feelings only heightened the fever in his mind.

"I'll be good," she promised, moving to the patio table and taking a seat on the bench. He sat on the other side, pulled out his computer and began the lesson, trying to ignore her beauty.

For a few hours they worked, the subjects ranging from math to art to English and Japanese grammar and history. Abukara was aware of her slowly moving around the table, but he told himself it was so that they could talk easier. It wasn't until they were in a discussion about Sonezaki Shinjū, the love-suicide play was he suddenly aware of the danger.

He'd finished describing the scene in which Tokubei and his beloved, Ohatsu, decide to die together. "So beautiful," Saori sighed, her eyes dreamy and distant. "But I don't think that such love exists anymore."

"I'm not sure that such love existed then," Abukara replied, touching the cover of the play. He'd borrowed a physical copy for her to hold in her hands; he could feel the heat from her body as he stroked the leather of the book. "It was a play, after all."

She looked sad. "It always seems that way," she sighed and he hated that he'd brought such sorrow to her. "More hate than love."

He couldn't stop himself; if was as if he were possessed. "If anyone could find that love," he said, lifting her head by cupping her chin in his hand, "it will be you, Saori."

She looked so vulnerable, as he held her in his hand. "Really?" she whispered.

"Yes," he replied, not telling her that right now he could see how Tokubei could feel so much passion, enough to cut his own throat. "You are too... beautiful, to ever be alone." And even as his brain tried to tell him that this as a mistake, he kissed her.

[z-Xiao Saori]

Abukara forgot he was a teacher, forgot he'd been hired by this girl's father to tutor her, forgot anything other than the beautiful woman in his arms. She was warm and soft, and he was only half-aware of pulling her into his lap. His fingers found skin, smooth, silky skin and he heard someone moan.

And then a whisper shattered him. "Teacher."

Abukara became aware of who he was, where he was and whom he was kissing. Ashamed, he pulled back, removing his hand from under her shirt. He placed her on the bench next to him then stood, moving away from her, staring out toward the city. When he looked back at her, it was like a spear in his heart - she had her head down and she looked shamed, or frightened. He'd hurt her.

"Saori," he said, sitting next to her, taking in her downcast eyes. "I'm sorry." He reached out, feeling drawn against his will to take her hand in his. "That was unforgivable. Please, it was not your fault. It was mine."

Whatever she was going to say was lost by a cold voice from behind them. "What is your fault, Abukara?"

Terrified, the teach spun and bowed at the same time, facing Miko. Saori's mother was a petite Chinese woman who didn't look intimidating, but Abukara knew that she was relentless in her protection of her only child. He started to stammer something, but Saori interrupted him.

"Mother," she said as she bowed, "Teacher Abukara made a mistake, but it is not his fault. I am a nova, and it is easy to forget sometimes. He only did what he did because I am a nova."

"And what did he do?" Miko asked, crossing her arms. Despite the fact that he towered heads over her, Abukara was afraid of her. But that could be from her power to ruin his life, to make sure that he never worked as a teacher ever again. He would be alright with never teaching again, but not with the shame of having failed so terribly.

"I beg your forgiveness," Abukara gasped, feeling his throat start to close. "I took liberties with your daughter. I resign immediately and..." What else could he say, to offer? Nothing.

"He just kissed me, Mother," Saori said, and Abukara flinched. Miko drew a breath, and he could hear the anger that would flow out of her at any moment. "But, Mother, please... look at me."

Her voice was so compelling that Abukara glanced at her as well, though he was sure it wouldn't help his case. Saori stood there quietly, her lovely face somber and her large eyes expressive. "I'm not a normal girl, mother. Men will not have normal reactions to me. Expecting Teacher Abukara, a young, healthy man, to be anything other than what he is asks too much of any man."

"So I should let him continue teaching you?" Miko's expression left no doubt to her opinion on that.

"No," Saori answered simply. "It's not fair to him." She paused and Abukara saw her consider an idea. "I think that I should be allowed to attend a school. I've been tutored all my life, with interactions with other girls arranged by you. I'm sixteen. I need to make my own way through the world, Mother. I know that you and Father want to protect me. But I'm capable of defending myself. And I'm ready to join the world."

Miko's anger was gone. She stared at her daughter as if she'd never seen her before. In truth, this was one of the first times that Saori had been so open and frank with her mother, and Abukara realized that he was seeing the hint of the woman that Saori would become.

Finally, Miko gave her answer. "I'll think about it, and talk to your father. For now..." She looked sharply at Abukara. "For now, I believe your services are no longer required. Thank you for your service, and if you need a recommendation, you have mine."

"Thank you," Abukara bowed, almost dizzy with relief at his rescue. Saori had saved his honor, in a way. He turned and bowed to Saori, murmuring, "Thank you."

Saori bowed back. "I'm sorry for all of this," she said, and Abukara had a sense that she meant for more than she had mentioned. There was a flicker of something in her eyes, so fast he wasn't sure it had been there. Had Saori planned this? Had she manipulated events to her own end?

After a second, he dismissed the thought. The girl he had taught for so long now wasn't that manipulative. He felt ashamed to think such thoughts of the woman who had just helped him. She deserved better thoughts than that.

It wasn't until he was on the train that he realized that he'd never see Saori again. Closing his eyes, he reined in his emotions and struggled to reconcile himself to his loss like a man. But deep inside, he knew he'd touched Nirvana, and would never have it again.