Illumination

© Salome Wilde, 2008

Author’s Note: This was originally written for iyfic_contest's "Sunrise" theme. I've never written these characters before and so enjoyed it. Both Hojo and Mrs. H deserve some sweetness and sunshine in their lives, ne?

Illumination

I wake to the sun’s morning rays as they streak through the large open window and strike my face like Buddha’s vengeance. I blink and turn away. I look at floor before me, unsure of where I am. I am naked, the unfamiliar blue and white quilt covers little of me. I sit up, alone in this room on a bed much larger than my own. My eyes begin to focus and I see there is a second pillow beside the one I was lying on. It has a head-shaped dent in it. Whose bed? Whose head? Nothing comes.

Across the room, I see a little tufted chair with my clothing laid neatly over it. Pants, then shirt, then undershirt, then underpants, then socks: all neatly stacked there for me to retrieve. I cough, taste the stale burn of sake at the back of my throat. Beside the chair I note a large, pale, wooden bureau covered with perfume bottles and knickknacks and a little oval-framed photo. I rise, approach it: the picture is of a man I do not recognize. I shake my head and decide I would do best to dress and then find out where I am and how I got here. And I need to go to the bathroom badly.

Stepping out of the room as I zip up my pants, I am confronted again with the sun’s wrath as it spears me from the window at the end of the hallway. My eyes water and I give thanks that the bathroom is the very next door on the left. I stumble in and relieve myself, remarking at how sticky I am down there. Well, it would not be the first time I have had a wet dream. Because I am saving myself for Kagome, I try not to judge my growing body too harshly for its impatience. But where have I slept…and was I alone? I wash quickly and head back into the hallway, facing away from the unforgiving light and toward the stairs that lead down to where my overtired, blunted senses take in the sound and smell of frying eggs.

The sunshine that has blinded me thus far finally sheds useful light as it silhouettes a smiling Mrs. Higurashi, who turns to face me at the bottom of the stairs. Oh, heavens…

“Ohayo,” she says, brightly.

Everything returns in a rush: her soothing voice, quietly telling me that Kagome is in love with another boy, that I am a “lovely young man,” that some things are just not meant to be. I remember my tears and china cups of sake. I remember the way she squeezed my hand and the kindness in her eyes—and how those eyes drew me.

She looks at me again, now, and her eyes sparkle with experience and self-assurance. “Come, have some breakfast. Jii-chan and Souta have already gone out to weed the garden. It’s just you and I, Hojo-kun.”

Is it just the light, shining from behind on her short, wavy hair, or has she always been so pretty? Now, more specific images come in flashes as she moves in and out of the sunlight: our lips pressed together; her hands on my torso…then lower; her murmured words of encouragement and appreciation; sounds in my throat I have never made before; blissful release…

I blush and blink away the visions as she repeats my name. I clear my throat and pull out a chair for her, then join her at the table. Brightness fills the little kitchen. My head is suddenly so clear. The sunrise has brought enlightenment.